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Chapter Text

Once, Shen Qiao had fallen from a height and crashed through several sheets of glass.

Waking up felt like that, if one replaced the rushing air with plasma so hot that it scorched the flesh clean off of one's bones, the lurching sensation of the fall with regular disorientation, and the impact on the shard-covered ground with the feeling of realizing a good deal of his bones had been broken already before he landed back inside of his body.

Shen Qiao opened his eyes. It didn't make any difference to the pitch-blackness around him.
Gods, he thought, not this again.

Carefully circulating his inner qi through the shattered, spun-glass remains of his meridians, he took stock of his injuries.

Broken bones, check. Splinted and on their way to healing where possible, bandaged in the case of his ribs and the back of his head, mostly left alone in the case of the fracture in his hipbone. He wouldn't be moving around anytime soon, but it was taken care of.
Dantians and Meridians, check. They were badly damaged from the fight and subsequent several-li crash, but that could heal. Someone had done an acceptable job of fixing those. No, the problem was -

Ah, here. Joyful Reunion.

The poison had wracked his body and cultivation. He wished he was less intimately familiar with the way it had eaten into his muscles, damaged his sight, and left its traces in every single one if his nerves, leaving him a disoriented mess, but here he was. In the years following his fall from Banbu Peak, he had taken the time to read up on its effects.
He took a slightly bitter moment to admire with what precision Yu Ai had maneuvered him to the brink of death and no further. The damage was rather exactly as much as it could get without killing him.

The damage on his body was heavy, but manageable. The true obstacle lay in his cultivation, which was what made Joyful Reunion so insidious: while he had been resting, fighting, falling, sleeping, it had curled its invisible fingers and seeped into his core, the foundations of his martial arts. Like running water through limestone, like what happens to the brain of an animal that has eaten the brain of one of its peers, the poison had infiltrated every spiritual thread and begun to dissolve them from the inside out, destabilizing them and leaving them as a sponge-like structure with slowly widening holes, seeping corruption and rot.

Shen Qiao grimaced.

Outwardly, the movement only showed on his face as a faint twitch of his mouth and a half-aborted blink, but it was enough for the maid tending to him to run off to call for someone that the langjun was conscious again.

Shen Qiao kept focusing on his meditation and pondered his options. Last time, he hadn't known what was wrong with him, so he had been hoping his injuries would, given enough time and care, heal on their own. But time after time, he had hit a bottleneck in his cultivation - due to continuous fighting, lack of rest, repeated injuries, but mainly due to the insidious nature of Joyful Reunion, which had lingered in his body for a full year after, until ...

Hmm.

Healing would be a challenge. Burning out his foundations had been excrutiating last time, and he had been high as the clouds on fury and adrenaline back then.

He took a deep breath and held it, counting the heartbeats.

It boiled down to this: excrutiating pain now, excrutiating pain later, or leave his cultivation damaged forever.

Put it like that, the decision was suddenly very easy.

(For a martial artist whose goal in life was the expansion of their skills, the climb to the peak of martial ability, the progress towards oneself, the choice wasn't a choice at all.)

Since his wounds were bandaged, he was obviously in a place that was meant to let him heal, so there was no reason to put it off.
Besides, Shen Qiao had now read all five volumes of the Strategy of the Vermilion Yang. He was somewhat curious which influence they would have on his soon-to-be new foundation.

He closed his sightless eyes again and forced himself to relax.

He exhaled.

Shen Qiao got to work and sank back into the healing coma.

Yu Shengyan had sought out the recovery room after a servant had alerted him of the Daoist waking up.
When he entered the chamber to find the man unmoving and unresponsive, he sighed. Scolding the servants for fetching him for a false alarm, he didn't think the fear on their faces was out of place, until he realized they were staring at something behind him.

Slowly, he turned back.

"Begging Shizun's pardon," Yu Shengyan began, trying to feel less nervous about interrupting his sect leader's tea time and failing. "It concerns that cultivator, Shen Qiao ..."

"Mmh? Oh, him," Yan Wushi said without looking up from his cup of tea. "Is he moving yet?"

"Well, not exactly -" Yu Shengyan hedged and was immediately interrupted.

"Then don't bother me with it."

But he's glowing, Yu Shengyan very pointedly didn't say and stayed in the doorway, wringing his hands. He's glowing and one of the maids SWORE he started floating for a while, Shizun, what am I supposed to do about that? Is that normal for grandmasters? Did Qi Fengge and Hulugu and Tao Hongjing do this?

"Are you still here?"

Yu Shengyan hurried to bow and apologize. Another pointed look from the sect master sent him scurrying off.

Back in the recovery room, Yu Shengyan stared helplessly at the serene figure of the sect leader of Mount Xuandu, unremarkable save for the faint, golden light his skin was emitting. The maids were standing behind him and shifting a little nervously.

Honestly, I don't know either, he found himself wanting to say, but swallowed the words down in front of the servants. "It's definitely some martial arts technique he's cultivating," he finally said, trying to sound confident. "Just ... fetch me when he ... changes colors or something, I suppose." He waved his hand.
Yu Shengyan paused, thinking of something else. "Oh, and keep a bucket of water nearby in case he catches on fire." He nodded, satisfied with himself.
"... is that something we should expect to happen?" the braver one of the two maids dared to ask.
Yu Shengyan shrugged. "It isn't one of our secret techniques, how would I know?"

In hindsight, it really shouldn't have surprised him to be shaken awake in the middle of the night with the words, "He's flickering red and blue now."

Yu Shengyan internally cursed Shen Qiao, his Shizun's mood swings, and the gods in charge of meting out misfortunes, in that order.
Then he got out of bed to take a look.

It was two weeks after Shen Qiao's rescue from under Banbu Peak.
Last time, it had been a full month until he had even woken up, and three months in total before he had been able to get up and walk around with some help.

When Yu Shengyan returned to the room he had left Shen Qiao in, the man himself was sitting upright in bed, dishevelled, awake and frowning.

Upon hearing Yu Shengyan enter, Shen Qiao's head turned towards him immediately. His eyes were a little unfocused, but they settled on the general direction without any trouble.

For the first time, it struck Yu Shengyan that this was the leader of a sect they had no relations to, and that his Shizun
1) had only just returned from his visit to Yuwen Song,
2) was consequently at the other end of the estate, and
3) thus very definitely out of shouting range.

"Yu Shengyan," Shen Qiao said calmly, pinning him in place with just that look. "What year is it?"

Chapter Text

Yu Shengyan mentally went through several reactions and finally settled on, "Who told you my name?"
Shen Qiao's face gentled when he smiled. His unfocused eyes made the expression even softer than it usually was.
Yu Shengyan shivered.
"Ah, didn't you tell me earlier and call yourself my Shixiong?"
Yu Shengyan opened and closed his mouth a few times with a feeling of slowly rising dread before saying, "... I'll go get Shizun."
Shen Qiao sighed to himself in faint amusement at the sound of hurriedly retreating steps. Well then.
He turned to the maids who had entered with Yu Shengyan and gave them a gentle smile. "Please excuse me, but it seems to have been a while since I was last awake," he began. The servants in the Xie residence were by nature reserved and cautious, but ... listen. We all know Shen Qiao. We all know that smile is absolutely lethal, and he doesn't even try most of the time.
They immediately felt a little more settled and relaxed slightly.
"Could I trouble you for the date? Oh, and now that I think of it ..."

As a general rule, Yan Wushi was difficult to move from a path he had chosen.
Perhaps that way of putting it was slightly misleading; it would be more accurate to compare him to a roaring river after the ice melting in spring, choosing his own path heedless of public opinion on the matter, and taking many thousand workers and several months of painstaking construction to divert from his course, if it was possible at all.
All that went to say, when the estate manager, who Yu Shengyan had found first and sent on a search for their master, found Yan Wushi, it took a rather long time for him to convince their master that yes, their concerns were founded in reason, and no, there absolutely shouldn't be any delay in dealing with the random former sect leader they had kidnapped and locked into a spare room, even if Yan Wushi had only just returned from a state visit to Zhou, and yes, it needed Yan Wushi's personal attention.

When finally, with an air of great sacrifice, Yan Wushi stepped into the guest room, he came up short. Surveyed the entire room. Caught on the meticulously made bed and the patient's robes folded on top of it.
With a hand on his hip, he turned and raised an eyebrow. "Well? Did you misplace him somehow?"

Yu Shengyan came sprinting around a corner and skidded to a halt in the doorway. "Shizun," he said, pale and wan, "we kidnapped a ghost."

Outside on the road, Shen Qiao shielded his watering eyes against the glaring sun. Ah, this was another part he really hadn't missed. But still, at least his progress was far earlier than it had been last time: originally, it had taken him months before he had been able to make out vague dark and light shapes, and he felt like it was getting better by the minute. He had hoped that burning out his foundations and removing the remnants of Joyful Reunion from his system would restore his eyes completely like it had last time, but he supposed that had been after months of stilted recovery. He held no doubt his sight would return in a few months.
Feeling optimistic, he began to head towards the nearest city, tipping his new bamboo cane on the cobble stones to probe for obstacles.

"Tell me again what he said to you."

Yu Shengyan saluted. His Shizun had made fun of him until the idea of a ghost seemed almost completely ridiculous, and then sent him to gather information. It had gone a long way to calming him down.
"Answering Shizun, he addressed me by name, and asked for the year. And then he called me his Shixiong." He shuddered slightly. Not only was the other man from a completely different sect, but he was also almost a decade older than him! Who gave him the right to address him like that?! It was unnatural!
"What did the servants report after you left him with them?"
"He asked them for the date. And, um. He asked if the master of the residence had behaved erratically or out of character lately."
Silence for a few seconds.
"And then he tricked them into turning their backs for a second, and when they looked back around, he was gone."
Yan Wushi was still looking thoughtful, so Yu Shengyan continued.
"It was probably Qinggong, applied for both speed and silent movement. But his skills must me not bad, if he can use them like this so soon after recovering from such an injury."
"There also seemed to be something wrong with his eyes," Yu Shengyan finally felt obligated to add after another few seconds. "He couldn't focus them on me and the servants reported he was blinking a lot."
"Search the estate and bring him to me when you find him," Yan Wushi finally ordered. "It's one blind man. He can't have gotten far."

Shen Qiao strolled leisurely through the streets of the city after reaching it well before sunset. His impaired sight had made it risky to run at full speed, but he had enjoyed flexing his budding qinggong skills again after weeks of inactivity.
Considering his options, he decided to set up a fortune telling stall again. It had worked well last time, and it was a wonderful way to gather news from all over the city by listening to the gossip on the streets (and from his clients, of course).

A thorough search of the Xie residence and the immediate surroundings yielded no Xuandushan Sect Leader, and more interestingly, it also yielded no Shanhe Tongbei Sword.
Yan Wushi accusingly mustered the corner of the armory where he had set it down two weeks prior and then promptly forgotten about it. Until now.
"Did we keep his other belongings?"
The caretaker bowed deeply. "You gave the order to do with them as we saw fit. We burned of his clothes what couldn't be salvaged, sorted his vambraces into the armory, and set his hair piece to the other smaller treasures. Would you like me to fetch them?"
Yan Wushi confirmed and sent him off.

The steps in front of his fortune telling corner sounded lighter and more delicate than the ones before. The steps of two heavier people followed. Squinting against the sunlight, Shen Qiao raised his head a little.
"Well?" Young mistress Han Eying demanded with a cocky smile. Her servants shifted nervously behind her, but ended up staying silent. "What can you tell me about my future?"
"Well," Shen Qiao echoed. "I don't know a lot about yours just from looking at you, but a fortune teller hears a lot of gossip. An acquaintance of yours might appreciate these news: Yan-zongzhu of the Huanyue sect has returned from his seclusion, and he intends to make himself known. His family might benefit from a vacation somewhere very remote. He'll know what to make of it."
The young lady remained silent for a moment.
"Did you wait here for me specifically?" she asked, sounding distrustful.
Shen Qiao smiled. "Han-niangzi is so well-known, surely she won't blame me for taking an interest. Also," he added as a after-thought, "your martial aunt is Zhao Chiying, right? Though she is in seclusion right now, Bixia sect might benefit from knowing that Lu Feng intends to return to them. They may make of that what they will."
He rolled one of his shoulders. "Of course, it is Han-Niangzi's choice if she wants to pass on what I'm saying. Please don't worry about it too much.
"As for your own fortune, would you like to give me your hand so I can read your palm?"
Han Eying gave a hmph. "If you're going to be so concerning and cryptic at the same time, I can hardly refuse. An attack on my uncle, a traitor coming for my martial aunt, who knows, perhaps Hulugu himself will rise from his grave to find me and scare me to death, I at least want to know!"
She noted that Shen Qiao's face had gone a little pinched, and then very blank.
Han Eying stared at him in disbelief. "You have got to be joking -"

His head supported by his right hand, elbow on the table, Yan Wushi mustered the ornamental head piece that represented the dignity and the responsibilities of the Xuandushan sect leader.
And pondered the meaning of someone retrieving their sword, but leaving this behind without even looking for it.
He smiled, but his eyes remained cold.
Interesting. Very interesting indeed.
Additionally, Shen Qiao had somehow escaped the compound without leaving a trace or being seen.
It was almost as if he'd known the layout and guard details beforehand.
Strange.
However, for the moment, he had other things to worry about. This Kunye had apparently defeated Qi Fengge's successor without lifting a finger, his reputation soaring as a result; beating him would be the easiest way to announce to everyone that Yan Wushi was back in the Jianghu, and to add a reminder that everyone who had ever beaten him was dead by now.

Hundreds of Li away, a young woman named Bai Rong watched from her hiding place as the procession of people from the Six Harmonies Association made their way along the road to the moving cloud monastery.
She smiled. But, if any of her fellow sect members had seen this smile, they would have been very confused:
It was nothing like the coquettish smile they were used to seeing on her, the one resembling that of a little girl.
Former sect leader Bai Rong of Hehuan Sect smiled like she had learned to do during years of furthering her influence against Guang Lingsan and Yan Wushi.
Without quite knowing why, the people at the end of the group shivered.
Bai Rong stretched luxuriously and settled in to wait.

Chapter Text

Yun Fuyi of the Six Harmonies Association was on guard. Her group had checked into the Moving Clouds Monastery a scant few hours earlier, and she still hadn't been able to shake the feeling that they were being watched.
So she could be forgiven for, upon entering her room and encountering a suspicious cloaked figure, drawing her blade and attacking immediately.
The figure moved silently, the cowl not even fluttering as they dodged backwards, but revealed a flash of monk's robes underneath the cloak. Nonetheless, they scrambled a little bit as they stepped back, all the while fumbling with something in their sleeve before holding it up.
Yun Fuyi mercilessly slashed through it in her next attack, poised to deliver another fatal blow, and stopped. Both of them froze while she took in the two halves of paper the stranger had been left holding, one reading 'P E /' and the other reading '-\ C E'.
The figure still hadn't moved and was holding the two pieces in a manner that could, based on body language, almost be called 'plaintive'. They still hadn't moved to exploit Yun Fuyi's reading break.
Pursing her lips, Yun Fuyi lowered her knife slightly and took a step back to give the intruder some space. The entire exchange so far had taken place in complete silence save for the tearing sound of paper.
Hesitantly, the stranger lowered their arms.
Seeing that they wouldn't be attacked, their movements grew surer and more businesslike as they put the slashed sign on the table and unfolded another one from their sleeves.
Feeling a spark of curiosity, Yun Fuyi quirked an inquisitive eyebrow.
THANK YOU, the next sign read.
The stranger dropped it on the table and pulled out an entire roll of sheets, unrolled them and held them up to lay them down one after the other.
I'M HERE WITH A WARNING.

Yun Fuyi mouthed soundlessly, Why the signs?
The stranger flicked through a series of signs with their index finger and pulled out a new one.

YOU ARE BEING WATCHED. I DON'T WANT TO BE OVERHEARD.
Yun Fuyi nodded, a small frown between her eyebrows. If it weren't for the fact that the chest they were transporting was a decoy, she'd be worried this was a distraction while someone else snuck to the chest. Well, she could remain calm in that regard.
What's the warning?

MURONG QIN KNOWS WHERE YOU ARE AND WHAT YOU ARE TRANSPORTING.

Yun Fuyi suddenly felt cold. Could they still outrun them? Should they head back on the road and try to -

SO DOES ABBOT XUETING. AND SOME OF THE DEMONIC SECTS.
Yun Fuyi stared flatly at the stranger. What a way to tell them they were basically doomed.
With a mixture of hand gestures and frowning, Yun Fuyi managed to ask something along the lines of, If you're trustworthy, why are you hiding your face?
The next card was filled with smaller, almost cramped writing.

EVERY CULTIVATOR IN THE COUNTRY WANTS YOUR CARGO. IF XUETING OR YAN WUSHI GET IT, MY SECT WILL NEVER GET ANOTHER CHANCE. I CAN'T COMPETE WITH THEM. YOU ESCAPE, I CAN TRY AGAIN.

The stranger flipped over the sign.
IF IT GETS OUT I HELPED YOU, I DIE. SO NO FACE AND NO VOICE.

Yun Fuyi narrowed her eyes, but had to admit the logic was sound. The stranger had admitted to wanting the solarity for themselves, so she was going to be very careful going forward, but the stranger had very little to gain by lying about the entire situation, and if even a fraction of the report was accurate, they were going to need the help.
How many people?Yun Fuyi mouthed.
The stranger went through the discarded signs and began tapping names and holding up fingers. XUETING and YAN WUSHI, one finger for each; then Murong Qin, six; then the stranger tapped AND and signaled two more.
Yun Fuyi raised her eyebrows and pointed at the stranger. You included?
They paused, then shrugged.
AND, three fingers.
Yun Fuyi grimaced internally. These weren't great odds. Murong Qin and five lackeys, they might have stood a chance against. Xueting alone was unbeatable for them. The rest didn't even bear thinking about.
She mouthed her next question.
Which sect do you belong to?
Pointedly, the stranger tapped the DIE from before and held up a sign that just read: NO.
Yun Fuyi had to admit that was probably fair.
Where will you go once this is over? This was followed by a moment of surprise.
I DON'T HAVE A CARD FOR THAT.
An apologetic shrug. The stranger waited a second, but no further questions arose.
Another card.
IT WOULD BE BEST IF YOU JUST PACKED UP AND LEFT RIGHT NOW. BEST CASE, SPLIT UP.
Yun Fuyi thought at them, as loudly as she could, How dumb do you think I am? That sounds like the most obvious trap ever. Outwardly, she settled for shaking her head, frowning and mouthing, trap.
UNDERSTANDABLE, the next sign read.

They looked at each other.

Yun Fuyi gave in. How many of those cards do you have?

A FEW.

Do you have a card for everything?

NO.

What happens if you run out of cards?

I DON'T HAVE A CARD FOR THAT.

Pause. The stranger carefully raised another card.

DO YOU WANT TO KNOW THE PLAN?

Yun Fuyi hesitated, but only for a second. They could use the help. And an ally was an ally, no matter how unlikely. Decisively, she nodded.

Entirely unsurprisingly, the stranger pulled another stack of cards from their sleeves. The enthusiasm with which they aligned them properly and checked the order sent a small hint of dread up and down Yun Fuyi's spine.

ALRIGHT, read the first card. HERE'S WHAT WE'RE GOING TO DO ...

Chapter Text

Yun Fuyi was slightly disappointed but unsurprised to find out the stranger hadn't been lying.
Now, Yun Fuyi and her group were in the courtyard, surrounded by Murong Qin's people, and facing Abbott Xueting as well for good measure.
Perhaps they should have taken their chances with an ambush on the road.
"If you care about the lives of your subordinates, vice chairman Yun, I suggest you hand the item over," Murong Qin said. His men had restrained her subordinates.
With a deep sigh, she pulled a slim bamboo tube out of her sleeve and held it out. Triumph flashed in Murong Qin's eyes as he reached for it. She was already beginning to hope, when -
"There's another one!" The man who had been patting down the martial artists from the Six Harmonies Association for hidden weapons called out. He raised another one of the fake scrolls.
It was about at this point when all hell broke loose.

Yan Wushi reached the courtyard when it erupted into complete pandemonium, which he was inclined to take a little personally. Usually, conflicts waited for him to show up to properly escalate.
One of Murong Qin's goons was waving around a round, thin bamboo tube excitedly - had they already persuaded Yun Fuyi to hand her part of the Strategy of the Vermilion Yang over? No - there she was, holding - yet another bamboo tube, and while she looked rather tired and drawn, she looked nowhere near despairing. The book of Free Will still had to be in her possession. In the background, two of her men were restrained by Qin Murong's subordinates, all four of which were arguing. Someone in the robes of a low-ranking monk caught and held his gaze for a second, and then slipped away into the shadows - Yan Wushi made a note to keep an eye out for more interlopers, but mentally dismissed them. He had more important people to worry about.
Xueting, his old enemy, stood a little further back, a dignified distance away from the shouting, and looked like he had a headache.
There was no way the straight-laced vice chairman of the six harmonies association had come up with something this chaotic on her own. No, this smacked of the involvement of a demonic sect.
Yan Wushi smiled thinly. Another troublemaker? On his turf? He would have to show them what he did to competition.

Without (much) greater fanfare, he stepped out to the edge of the roof where he could be seen and made himself heard. There was a satisfying ripple of silence that went through the ranks of the assorted cultivators below. Yun Fuyi looked like she wanted to vomit blood.
Xueting and him exchanged the usual greeting unpleasantries and seamlessly moved on to exchanging blows.
In the meantime, someone had fished yet another bamboo cylinder from the clothes of the second guy from Six Harmonies. Seriously. How many of these had they bothered to make?
The second it came out, Xueting evaded another blow, brought some distance between the two of them, and turned to Yun Fuyi in a dignified swirl of his abbott robes. Really, with as much dignity as he insisted on carrying himself with, it was a miracle the old monk could still move.
"Chairman Yun," he said gravely. "Please, for the sake of everybody's patience, tell us how many of those you made and hand over the original. There's no reason to make this hard on yourself."
"We'll find them all anyway," Murong Qin said with crossed arms.
"There were three scrolls total," Yun Fuyi said.
"Are you sure? The lives of your men depend on it."
At this moment, another one of Murong Qin's henchmen walked up to him and whispered something. Behind him, two of his colleague herded two more people into the courtyard. One of them was a cultivator, heavily leaning on top of a young monk in only his under robes.
Murong Qin turned with a glare. "Then why did we just find another one with the injured man we left at your room?"
"My apologies for the misunderstanding," Yun Fuyi said smoothly, "Naturally I meant that we had three decoys. Together with the original, of course it makes four."
Someone groaned quietly.
Yan Wushi allowed himself a smirk. As amusing as this show was, it was time for him to end it.
He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Ah, it really is a wonder all of you ever get anything done without this venerable one around to help you. Allow me ..."

After some more tedious chit-chat, Yan Wushi had succeeded in annoying and pushing the group into doing the only reasonable thing, which was what he wanted.
He would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little bit enjoying this.
He had the attention of everyone, including that of the four people who were holding the bamboo tubes.
Yan Wushi waved his hand. "So? Open them up. See what they say."
The clacking of several lids being removed. Then the whispering of paper, silk and bamboo slips sliding out of their respective containers. "Come on, read them out," he said with a dangerous smile.
Someone cleared their throat and began to read. "Free will resides in the liver. Self-control leads to serenity. Serenity leads to -"
"That's enough," Yan Wushi cut the man off. "You, next. Any random passage will suffice." The man he had nodded towards looked a little rebellious, but folded when Murong Qin threw him a look.

"Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering -"

"Enough, next one," Yan Wushi said, sounding bored.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged -"

"Next."

"I must not fear. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear -"

"All of these," Yan Wushi said loudly and clearly, over the voice of the man reading, "are complete and utter trash." The man he had interrupted trailed off a little awkwardly.
"Which means the original is still somewhere around." Yan Wushi raised his voice. "Leaving us so soon, Chairman Yun?"

Chairman Yun froze where she had been slowly backing away into the shadows.

"She was trying to get away, she must have the original still on her!" called someone.

Yan Wushi gave a condescending sigh. "Of course not." He leisurely jumped down to the floor from where he had perched during his fight with Xueting. "That's just what she wants us to believe. If she successfully leaves, she can convince us to chase her wherever she will be hiding, while in the meantime, her subordinates carry out the original plan and bring the true book out of the country." He smiled and, with his arms behind him, walked closer to Yun Fuyi. "But vice chairman Yun, you and I know that the true scroll is still hidden in that chest you brought with you earlier. Won't you do us a favor and go take it out?"
Yun Fuyi's face turned white with fury. Nice, he hadn't been entirely sure that guess was correct.
"Impossible!" someone called out. "We searched that thing earlier, there was nothing there!"
But the vice chairman walked over to the chest and carefully took a copy of The Songs of Chu from the bottom of the chest. She slid off the binding and unrolled it, revealing only about two pages of real paper. The rest had been cut into to turn the book into a container of its own. From that hollow, she plucked another bamboo container, this one a little more shiny than the others, polished and aged by the many hands that had touched it.
An impressed murmur went through the courtyard. Only Yan Wushi clucked his tongue in mock disapproval. "Such underhanded strategies. You realized we were coming, so you put the Zhuyang Ce into the decoy chest, where it was never supposed to be in the first place. Alright," he turned and moved. Suddenly, he was standing on the roof again, the scroll in one hand and the young monk in the other. "You can read, right?"
The young monk was shaking with terror, but he managed a single nod. Yan Wushi touched his index and middle finger to the vital acupoint in his back and handed him the scroll. "Then read."

Shaking with nerves, the little monk acquiesced.
The text started out normally enough. Only, as he continued to read, his face began to turn stranger and stranger.

"Free will resides in the spleen. It represents the choices that we make, that shape us into the people we are today and will be in the future. And yet, sometimes the winds of change blow us to places we remember but aren't quite the same; they throw us into the path of people who may have changed or remained as they were; it brings back times we had thought all but lost."
The little monk frowned a little. "Um, it says here ... hair, as dark as the night sky; his smile, as dear as an old friend, and lovely as a light in the window of a home that you return to in the night when you believed and long since lost to the cruel whims of fate."
The little monk had begun to sweat under everyone's combined gazes. He swallowed. "Um, there's ... something about him looking dazzling in daoist robes but the writer really wants them off him ... I think that's metaphorically since Daoist Priests arent allowed romantic entanglements ..." He cleared his throat. "Oh, next there's a section about ... dual cultivation ... so maybe not." He stopped and looked pleadingly to Yan Wushi. "Do I really have to read -" His face had turned crimson with embarrassment. He was a monk! He had never imagined he would have to read such a thing out loud!
The face he was met with was radiating menace and controlled fury. The little monk gulped and made the executive decision to skip ahead a few paragraphs.
"There's the start of a letter here. It says:
"My dear Shen-Lang,
by the time you read this, I'm afraid we will have missed our chance to meet again, which is an atrocity we really cannot let stand.
Don't be mad about me teasing you, you know me. Or don't you?
If you do remember me, come meet me at the inn where I warned you about the ambush, on the same date this autumn.
If you don't, ... well. Don't worry about it, I'll come and find you at your home sect sometime.
We have a lot to discuss."
The little monk licked his lips. After this, the text returned to something a little more normal.
"In case you don't remember, I hope you will appreciate the following: In Houtian stage, the spleen harbors Free Will, while in the Xiantian stage, it is Belief…”
"Alright, alright, wait a minute," someone interrupted him. "This is clearly the same drivel as the other four so far. There's really no reason why we should listen to the rest of that."
This was a shame and to everyone's detriment, because for Shen Qiao's sake, in the unlikely event that he didn't remember anything, Bai Rong had transcribed as much of the Book of Free Will as she remembered into this particular forgery.
However, none of them would ever find out.
Yan Wushi's eyes were hard and flinty, staring into the middle distance as he thought quickly. He had wondered earlier how many counterfeit solarities Yu Fuyi had bothered to make. As it turned out, more than enough to lose track of them. His eyes widened, then narrowed.
"The monk! Where did the little monk go?"
Xueting looked at him strangely.
The little monk next to him shrunk into himself with wide eyes.
"Not you," Yan Wushi growled as he scanned the courtyard. "The other one, the one in your clothes. Where did he go?"
Nobody seemed to know, which was unsurprising. He had seen the guy leave unimpeded at least half a shichen earlier. The chances of finding him now were low.
Fortunately, the thief had been considerate enough to leave them some further hints.
How many pretty-faced daoist martial artists surnamed Shen did he know?

Bai Rong skipped lightly along the path that lead into the city, humming to herself. She was feeling rather pleased with herself. During the very first of the chaos, when the second scroll had been discovered, she had used the distraction to sneak to the chest, pushed to the side and unattended as it had been. She had slipped the text itself from its container and put it into her sleeve, replacing it with her last forgery, and made it to the end of the courtyard just in time - Yan Wushi had appeared literally the second she had been getting ready to leave. The timing couldn't have been better.
It was a shame she couldn't stick around to see Shen Qiao. She had her suspicions about how she had ended up in the past, and if they were correct, there was a decent chance he would remember their old timeline as well. Unfortunately, she had plans to set into motion and a solarity to study. They could meet up later - if he did remember, he would come find her where the letter she had left him told him to; if he didn't, she had a decent idea of where he would be two weeks from now.
At the thought of Shen Qiao reading that particular scroll out loud, Bai Rong laughed out loud. He had always been so easy to embarrass.
The sound startled a few sleeping birds from the trees.
Ah, she had so much to do and so little time to do it with. But all in all, she liked the look of this new future.
She sped up her steps and hurried towards the horizon.

On his way to Xuandushan, Shen Qiao raised his head. He could have sworn he had heard a familiar laugh rushing by in the distance, accompanied by a dark blur. Mentally, he shrugged to himself. Experience told him that he and Bai Rong would run into each other sooner or later.

Chapter Text

On the far road, Bai Rong slowed her steps as something light caught her eye. Tapping the ground lightly with her foot, she soared up and landed effortlessly on the branch of a tree.
The thing that had caught her attention was a person far ahead of her, wearing a white robe which caught the moonlight.
She shielded her eyes from the light of the full moon to muster them. The graceful way of moving reminded her of Shen Qiao somewhat ... could it be ...

Shen Qiao turned as he heard someone jump somewhere behind him. The sound told of experience in martial arts, he would do well to be prepared. Somehow, though, the technique sounded familiar. Could it really be Bai Rong he had heard earlier?

"Shen-lang, what are you doing here at this time?" Bai Rong murmured before leaping ahead and bounding towards him.

Bai-niangzi, what are you doing here at this time? Shen Qiao wondered. He turned around to face her.
Bai Rong reached him and came to a halt about three or four steps away from him. Uncharacteristically, she stayed silent.

"Greetings," Shen Qiao said cautiously after a few moments filled with nothing but the rustling of leaves around them.
He was a little wary. The last time around, Bai Rong had nearly killed him and Chen Gong.
"Greetings," Bai Rong called out cheerfully. "By any chance, do you remember that time on Yuwen Song's seventeenth birthday party, when he got so offended at that one lord's son that he fell into the carp pond and pretended to drown?"
With a relieved sigh, Shen Qiao loosened his shoulders and smiled.
"You remember."
Bai Rong gave him a wistful look she was glad he couldn't see. "I do."
She had been holding out a little hope, that with Yan Wushi not yet in the picture and a fresh start with Shen Qiao ... but there was no use in wondering what might have been.

"If I may ask, what are you doing around here?" Shen Qiao asked.
Bai Rong sighed. "Ah, I'm on my way to Half-Step Peak to train. The area surrounding it is rich in natural qi, so it's good for cultivation. Nothing interesting, to be honest." She skipped a step closer, for old times' sake. "What about you, though?"
Shen Qiao backed up slightly as if readying for a fight. This, too, was for old times' sake. "There are some things back home I need to take care of. I'm afraid it's nothing terribly interesting either."
Bai Rong read the intended meaning and laughed, but quickly grew serious again. "Shen-lang, I'm sorry to be rude, but I am in a bit of a hurry. There are some things we need to speak about later, though. Can we meet up in a few months?"
Shen Qiao politely raised his brows but said nothing.
"The important thing you need to know is that this journey to the past probably wasn't an accident, and people are going to try to kill you," Bai Rong said urgently. "Once they find you, at least."

For the first time, Shen Qiao seemed to listen up.

"But ...," Bai Rong shrugged. "Since you remember, I guess you'll be fine. You're recovering well, right?"
"Thanking Bai-niangzi for her concern. This one is recovering well."
Since it seemed like she was about to leave, Shen Qiao hurried to say:
"Do you want help murdering your Shizun?"
Bai Rong, who had been turning to leave, froze. If one strained one's ears, one could hear a faint sigh.
"And you wonder why people fall in love with you," Bai Rong said, her tone landing somewhere between joking and sad. "You're very kind, Shen-lang. I've got some plans, so don't worry about it." She shook her head, making her hair ornaments click together and the bells ring. Her tone perked up.
"In any case, I'm afraid my time is up - there are some people who might want to catch up to me for a chat, and I can't prolong this training session any longer, so I will leave first. Take care!"
With these words, she light-stepped ahead on the road and disappeared within moments.
Fondly, Shen Qiao shook his head to himself. It was good to see Bai Rong had taken some of her old whimsical behavior back up for this trip to the past. It seemed to be good for her.

Chapter Text

Tan Yuanchun wasn't sure what had woken him up, at first.
He listened, but he didn't hear the noise again - wasn't even sure if he hadn't just dreamed about it.
He heard the wind howl around the edges of an open window. He didn't remember leaving it open.
Perhaps he was getting paranoid, but ever since the duel, the Tujue had been ... pushy. It was expected, but it still rankled.
It was probably nothing. But it was better to check.
Soundlessly, he got up and moved downstairs.
Hall, door, common room. Nobody in sight. Grey light shimmered through a half-open window.
He stepped forward and closed it. The whistling of the wind cut off abruptly, subsiding to a mournful hum outside.
Yu Ai expected to hear from Shen Qiao soon. Tan Yuanchun felt inclined to agree, but he doubted it would be as peaceful as Yu Ai imagined. Shen Qiao was, at his heart, stubborn as granite. It was very unlikely he would just submit himself to indefinite house arrest to let Yu Ai handle things. And even if he did ... that was what less recognizable poisons were for.
Tan Yuanchun lit a match. It flared up brilliantly in the darkness, making him blink against green and red spots swimming through his vision while he waited for the wick of the candle to catch.
That was, if Shen Qiao had even survived until now. Well, he had probably made it through the fall; Yu Ai had never wanted to kill his Shixiong, after all, only injure and permanently incapacitate him. As if that made it better, when for many martial artists the progress of their cultivation was worth any risk to their lives.
Tan Yuanchun blew out the match, set the candle down on the table and sat on the bench next to it.
Opposite of him, bathed in golden candle light, sat Shen Qiao.

Tan Yuanchun screamed, flinched and flung over the candle, which went out.

Less than one minute later, Gu Hengbo was knocking on his door. "Da-Shixiong? Da-Shixiong, what's wrong? We heard you call."
Tan Yuanchun swallowed drily. Shen Qiao's two fingers were pressed into the vital acupoint at his lower spine.
"Everything's fine," he called out. "Go back to sleep."
The silence outside was decidedly skeptical.
Tan Yuanchun debated just calling her in and telling her Shen Qiao had returned home. His Shidi would hardly threaten him in front of their Shimei. Shen Qiao's other hand neared his mute acupoint at the base of his skull as if it had sensed his intentions. From the corner if his eye, Tan Xuanchun saw him shake his head.
"I ... to be honest, Shimei," he hesitated a little. Gu Hengbo had an uncanny knack for telling when someone was lying. "Our martial brother's fate weighs heavily on me. Tonight I feel like I see him in every corner. I didn't sleep well, and something woke me up. Please return to your house. It's nothing for you to concern yourself with."
In the darkness, Shen Qiao's face was a black shadow rimmed with silver in front of the paper screen. There was only a hint in how that outline moved, but he thought the silhouette of Shen Qiao's lips shifted and curved a little.
Tan Yuanchun wondered if this was a smile he would recognize by day, or if little Qiao had finally learned something that was entirely new to him.
After Gu Hengbo had left, Tan Yuanchun let out a trembling breath.
Shen Qiao's hand didn't move an inch. This didn't bode well. How much did Shen Qiao know?
"Alright, Shidi," he said with a smile of his own. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
He felt more than heard his sigh. Then, wonder of wonders, the pressure on his spine let up. "Sit with me," Shen Qiao said.
Steeling himself, Tan Yuanchun brought himself back under control. Shen Qiao had let go of him, that was a good sign, he thought as he felt for the candle under the table. It hadn't rolled too far.
They took their seats, opposite each other but on the same side of the table and on the same bench.
Tan Yuanchun smiled. "Shidi, it's good to see you. We were all sick with worry."
Shen Qiao mustered him silently for a few seconds, but didn't volunteer anything.
"But why the secrecy?" Tan Yuanchun continued. "Shimei would be beside herself with joy to see you, and so would our Shidi. What can this humble Shixiong do for you that noone else can?"
Shen Qiao's eyes were dark in the low light, almost black. When he spoke, his voice remained almost completely without inflection.
"I know it was you."
Tan Yuanchun felt cold sweat break out down the length of his back.
"That what was me?"
He knew. Shen Qiao definitely knew. How much exactly did he know?
"Yu Ai didn't get the idea himself," Shen Qiao said calmly.
Tan Yuanchun almost laughed out loud. "Yes, he did."
For the first time, Shen Qiao's expression flickered.
Tan Yuanchun felt compelled to add, "He has been unhappy with your policy of non-interference for years. It was him who procured the poison, and him who - well." He smiled. "I'm sure you figured that out."
"Yes," Shen Qiao said, voice clipped. "But it was you who stoked that fire, who encouraged him at every turn, who convinced him he had the support of the elders."
"He does have the support of the elders," Tan Yuanchun remarked.
"To go against my decision in this, yes. Not to become sect leader himself."
Tan Yuanchun let himself smile with the smugness he felt. "No. After all, he isn't the most senior disciple."
They regarded each other. "I would have given it to you if you asked," Shen Qiao said quietly. "I suppose that's what I'm really here for. I could abdicate in your favor. Would that make you happy? Would it convince you to redeem yourself?"
Tan Yuanchun suddenly heard himself snarl. "Give it to me? Give it to me? What point is there to picking up your cast-offs? No. For it to be worth anything, I have to be the one who takes it from you. I'm going to remind Shizun that he has another student, one called Tan Yuanchun, and I will only be satisfied when I have beaten you in every imaginable way and taken EVERYTHING from you."
In the silence that followed, Tan Yuanchun heard his own breath unnaturally loud. He hadn't meant to say any of that, but it was just as well. Perhaps it had needed to be said. Things that couldn't be said would be wept, wasn't that how the saying went?
Shen Qiao drew back, looking unsurprised. That was strange. Why wasn't he surprised? "You can't be sure the elders will decide in your favor," he pointed out. "You were disregarded for the role once. Why should they choose you over Yu Ai? He has been handling matters decently well so far."
Tan Yuanchun curled his lip. "Let that be my concern, Shidi. I, unlike you, have all the time I need."
Tan Yuanchun smoothed out his face and put on a smile again. "Speaking of which, Shidi, how is your cultivation? You surprised me earlier, so I lost to you, but you are nowhere near your old skill level anymore. Are you recovering well?" He shifted. Without the element of surprise against him, he felt more than up to taking on Shen Qiao.
"Aren't you worried if you take me to Yu Ai, I'll tell him about this?" Shen Qiao asked casually, rising to his feet.
"What exactly would you tell him?" Tan Yuanchun answered, getting up as well. "That I talked him into it? He remembers those conversations, he won't see it that way." He slipped into a fighting stance. "That I'm bitter and hold a grudge? Nobody who knows me would believe you, not the way you are. That I want to become sect leader?" Tan Yuanchun smiled. "He'll find out about that soon enough."
Shen Qiao nodded thoughtfully. "I see."
"So I'll have to trouble you to accept our hospitality for a while, Shidi," Tan Yuanchun said. "Don't worry. It won't be for very long."
With those words, he sent a palm strike towards the center of Shen Qiao's chest. Faster than the eye could follow, Shen Qiao flung the box of tea leaves that had been left out on the table into the way.
The strike connected and sent out a cloud of dark tea leaves. In the split-second it took for them to start falling, Shen Qiao had vanished as if he had never been there.

Chapter Text

In the morning, Yuan Ying knocked on Yu Ai's door, only to be answered with silence. After a few minutes of knocking and asking, he finally called, "Shixiong, please forgive me, I'm coming in." He waited a few seconds. When no protest was forthcoming, he slid the door open.
Yu Ai was in his sleeping robes and held a piece of paper at arm's length.
He was very pale.
"Shixiong...?"
Without a word, Yu Ai tilted the note towards him.
Yuan Ying craned his neck to read it.
Beware of the Tujue.
Don't trust shixiong.
Your life depends on it.
Do what's best for Xuandushan.
I rely on you.
It was very clearly paper from the stack on Yu Ai's desk, and there was dried ink in the basin as well as a single drop of ink on the wood.
The writing itself was uneven and blotchy, the characters not perfectly lined up and spaced out unevenly, almost as if whoever had written it had done so with great difficulty, perhaps in the dark, or with very bad eyesight and stiff fingers as well as in a hurry. Still, something about the writing struck him as familiar.
"This is Shen Qiao's handwriting," Yu Ai whispered, deathly pale.
"Oh." That was strange, since Shen Qiao's calligraphy was usually orderly and beautiful, but Yuan Ying wracked his brain for why it scared his Shixiong so much. "So he has returned?"
Yu Ai shook his head. "Nobody saw or heard from him in weeks."
"... so he sent a letter ...?"
He shook his head again. "I found it this morning on my desk."
Yuan Ying let that sink in for a few more moments. Then he realized. "You mean ...?"
"Yuan-shidi," Yu Ai said seriously, a slight tremble in his voice, "If shixiong has died from the fall, it's very possible that his soul hasn't yet found rest."
Yuan Ying closed his mouth. He tactfully looked for a way to express his doubts.
In this moment, Gu Hengbo stuck her head into the room. "Yu-Shixiong? I'm worried about Da-Shixiong. Last night, there were strange noises and a thump from his house. Then he suddenly screamed and when I checked on him, he said something woke him up and sent me away. This morning, he looks like he barely slept at all, and the strangest thing is, he said he thought he saw Shen Qiao in his house last evening, but this morning he stubbornly says it was nothing!"
Yu Ai looked as if his greatest fears had just come true.
Yuan Ying needed another second to process all of this.
"... we're seriously being haunted?"

Chapter Text

The walk up the mountain, dodging the guards, the short fight with Tan Yuanchun and his subsequent flight, more clandestine breaking and entering to leave a clear, concise, impossible to misinterpret message for Yu Ai and then the descent from the mountain had taken more out of Shen Qiao than he had expected. And, of course, the fact that he had replaced sleep with hours of hiking and ten minutes of a frankly harrowing conversation with his Shixiong.
With a sigh, he gently massaged his temple. He had thought that he had long ago come to terms with his Shixiong's bitterness. But it seemed he hadn't been able to help himself and hoped against hope that it wasn't too late yet.
The restaurant was small, on the outskirts of the town at the bottom of Mt Xuandu. It was low profile enough that he hoped to avoid notice.
When the server came, he ordered some congee, then stopped and considered. "Actually, my apologies. I'd like some cat ears with beef instead."
The server nodded and retreated.
Shen Qiao sighed internally.
He didn't even particularly like noodles with beef. He preferred lighter fare.
He wrenched his thoughts back on track.
Listening to the gossip, he realised he was behind on his information.
There had been some sort of scandal regarding the Six Harmonies Association lately, so Shen Qiao inferred that the ambush at the Moving Clouds Monastery had taken place without him.

Then he caught the tail end of another conversation.
"... really taught that Kunye a lesson," someone said, sounding vindicated. Shen Qiao paid closer attention. He wasn't sure what to do next, and this sounded promising. There were so many things to take care of:
The impeding war between Zhou and Qi; Yuwen Yong's death at the hands of his son, the massacre at Bixia sect, Hulugu, the ambush at -
"Why do you sound so proud, ah? It's not like you personally sent him running," someone replied. "I'm not sure that new guy really is better."
The first man scoffed. "Please. At least, he is a grandmaster from the central plains instead of some -"
"I heard about that too," someone interrupted excitedly. "I heard he terrorized Kunye until he finally fled all the way back to the Khaganate. That guy was really impressive, that ... what was his name again?"
"Yan Wushi, I think."

Shen Qiao made sure to breathe deeply and calmly. When the food came, he didn't say a word and just stared through the blurry outline of the bowl without seeing it.
He was in the past. Yan Wushi evidently hadn't returned with him, since otherwise he would have come to speak to him the second he woke up, or at the very least in the time since. When I want someone, even if they hid in Qi Fengge's gravesite, I would come and dig them out.
Everybody he knew, the disciples he had taught, the people he had fought with, the loyal friends he had made, and the man he had loved and married, were gone.
Shen Qiao bowed his head and let himself grieve.

From the background noise of the restaurant, comings and goings and chatter, his brain picked out a voice.
It was probably because he had been thinking of him, it had just been similar enough to catch his attention.
Through the noise, he heard a waiter reply, "The free tables are over here. Please feel free to choose one."
And then, the customer, in response: "Mn."
Shen Qiao's doubts dissipated like smoke. There was no mistaking that voice.
Yan Wushi continued. "Ah, well, I saw someone I want to meet with over there. I'll just join him."
For one brief, shining moment, Shen Qiao contemplated throwing himself out of the window and running for the hills.
Unfortunately, he was a mature and responsible adult who didn't run away from conversations. He was also under no illusions how much time that would buy him.
Yan Wushi crossed the room, the chatter quieting as he went, and sat down across from him.
Shen Qiao had the distinct impression he was being mustered. Yan Wushi didn't introduce himself, so Shen Qiao kept quiet as well.
"What a coincidence to find you here," Yan Wushi said.
Translation: I've got you. Finally.
Shen Qiao raised his eyebrows in a polite inquiry and said nothing.
What on earth did Yan Wushi want from him here? They hadn't even spoken yet. Was it because he had, technically, broken out of Xie Residence?
To his surprise, there were noises of a sheet of paper being unfolded and shaken in his direction. "Do you know what this is?" Yan Wushi was using his I'm-playing-with-you tone, which informed Shen Qiao that he was likely in mortal peril, and also made him glad that he was sitting down. After two decades of marriage, that voice brought its own set of reactions with it.
Shen Qiao sighed. "Well," he said. "It sounds like a sheet of paper. But I assume you're referring to what's on it."
He thought that he could hear the razor-thin smile Yan Wushi gave him in return.
The paper rustled again. Then Yan Wushi began to read.
"My dear Shen-Lang, ..."
Shen Qiao felt his blood try to drain out of and shoot into his face simultaneously.
"by the time you read this, I'm afraid we will have missed our chance to meet again, which is an atrocity we really cannot let stand ..."
Yan Wushi read another few paragraphs, while Shen Qiao tried - and probably failed - to keep the mortification out of his face.
Finally, after what felt like forever, a rustle told him that Yan Wushi had lowered the letter.
"This was found instead of the book of Free Will in the possession of Vice Chairman Yu of the Six Harmonies Association," Yan Wushi said cordially.
"Oh," Shen Qiao said weakly. "I ... someone found the Book of Free Will? How interesting."
"Someone even managed to steal it out directly under the nose of some of the most powerful martial artists in the country."
"I see," Shen Qiao said. "And since I'm the only person named Shen that you know, you decided to question me about it?"
Yan Wushi rustled with the letter again. Then he began to read another paragraph that was somehow worse. Shen Qiao's face finally made a decision: He blushed crimson.
"Doesn't that description sound like you?"
"Absolutely not."
"There's more of this," Yan Wushi said with what sounded like a smirk.
Shen Qiao raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright," he said, keeping his voice down because he was pretty sure the couple two tables over had started eavesdropping several flowery descriptions of his eyelashes ago. "Maybe it does sound like me. Now what do you want me to do about it?"
"Obviously, I want to know who the thief was and where he went," Yan Wushi said calmly.
"How am I supposed to know that?"
"The thief clearly knows you. Exceedingly well, it would seem like."
"Yan-Zongzhu must be mistaken, since I have never been told any of those things in my life."
"Really? You've never been told that you're," another rustle, "exceedingly handsome, very charismatic, raven-haired, dewy-eyed as a newborn fawn -"
Shen Qiao covered his eyes with his palm and tried to tune him out. He more or less managed. Perhaps less more than more. He sighed through his nose.
Bai Rong, you couldn't have mentioned the letter when we met earlier?
The thing was, it was obvious the letter had come from her. He knew what she sounded like when flirting, he knew what she sounded like when she was embarrassing him on purpose, and this was clearly gratuituous amounts of both. Unfortunately, despite all the things he knew she could survive, he was rather sure an angry Yan Wushi was not on the list (at least, not yet).
So he really didn't want to go, oh, I know exactly who that is, go and find Bai Rong of Hehuan sect, she's currently training beneath Banbu Peak and probably still has the scroll on her.
Which, of course, left him to deal with the irritated Yan Wushi himself.
This had been something he had been avoiding even when they were married.
"Unfortunately, I have no idea who could have written this," he said.
"None whatsoever?"
"No. My apologies."
"Well." More paper noises. "It does mention you might not remember the sender."
Shen Qiao suddenly felt a strong sense of foreboding.
"You really don't know which inn this is about?"
If I had been warned about an ambush recently, would I have been thrown off a cliff, you think?
Shen Qiao took a second to tone down the snappiness a little.
"Did the results of my duel with Kunye cause the impression I received some sort of warning about a looming ambush?"
Perhaps he should have taken two seconds.

"Well," Yan Wushi said nonchalantly.
"In the event that you don't remember, the author declares the intention of coming to find you."
Shen Qiao believed he could feel another smile from the other.
"I'll just have to trouble Shen-Daozhang to accompany me until I find the thief."
Shen Qiao opened and closed his mouth mutely. Why do I get the feeling that this time like last time, you are all too happy to have a reason to drag me along with you?
The thought sent a pang through him.

"Unless, of course, you do remember?"

Shen Qiao didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
As if you're not going to drag me with you if I do tell you! If I did, you'd just argue that you want to learn about Xuandushan's volume of the Zhuyang Ce by fighting me! I remember that!
So he just sighed.
"Well, you may be too late already. I met a strange person on the road who claimed to know me and made cryptic remarks."
"Ah? Why didn't you say so sooner. What did they look like?"
Shen Qiao gave him a look that was deeply, heavily unimpressed.
"Well?"
Shen Qiao exaggerated his thoughtfulness. "Hm ... if I had to say .. they looked almost exactly like ... a not particularly tall ... dark grey outline." He shot him an annoyed look.
Yan Wushi smiled and said through his teeth, "Anything interesting about the outline?"
"Might have been wearing a hood?"
"What about the voice?"
"I really couldn't tell."
"How very helpful. I suppose I shall have to ask Shen-Daozhang's company after all, in case the thief returns for another conversation." Unfortunately, that was likely. He hoped Bai Rong would be careful.
"Yan-Zongzhu is too generous, taking this humble one along on his travels," Shen Qiao sighed. There was no point in arguing when his ... something ... got like that.
He received no reply. Perhaps Yan Wushi was too busy being smug. Perhaps he was just surprised by how much of a pushover he was being.

About then, Shen Qiao realized that his food had been growing cold for the past several minutes now. He seized the chance to change the subject.
"Would you like some?"
It was Yan Wushi's favorite food, after all.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"I don't even like this, to be honest."

"Then why did you order it?"

Shen Qiao paused, then said after considering, "Because I'm missing someone who isn't with me anymore."

Yan Wushi scoffed. "If you want to poison me, find a better story."

Shen Qiao sighed. He picked up one or two noodles by feel, then added a piece of darker grey that he assumed was the meat, and put the combination in his mouth. Chewed. Swallowed.
"I'm still alive. What about now?"

"No, thank you."

Shen Qiao mentally shrugged and started collecting another bite.

"I thought you didn't like this, why are you eating it?" Yan Wushi asked.

"I ordered it, so I suppose I should eat it as well. It's not good to waste food."

Yan Wushi hummed, but didn't reply otherwise. When Shen Qiao raised the chopsticks to his mouth again, he quickly grabbed his wrist, turned it, and stole the bite of food out from between them.
Shen Qiao yanked his hand away as if he had been burned. "Yan-Zongzhu!" He could feel his ears burning. They were in public! Also not dating. And yes, he had forgotten, over the years, how publically affectionate his husband had been in his first attempts at getting under his skin.
Fine, then. From now on, he would unearth his composure from back then and blush at absolutely nothing.
In fact, Yan Wushi could dip him and kiss him in the town square and his only reaction would be, "if you wanted dance lessons so badly, we could have signed up."
... maybe not that last one. But in spirit, certainly.
He smoothed out his face. "Please respect yourself. We can ask for an extra pair of chopsticks."
"But this is so much more fun," Yan Wushi said with a challenging smile in his voice.
Oh, so we are getting to the "trying to get under your skin" part of the charade fast, huh.
"... then, are you asking me to feed you?"
He had asked as a joke. For a second, he was really worried Yan Wushi would say yes.
To his relief, Yan Wushi politely declined.
Shen Qiao went to take another bite.
Grab, yank, nom. It disappeared in the same fashion as the last.
Yan Wushi's hand was warm, and the inside of his palm smooth and almost soft where age hadn't dug its claws in yet. He remembered holding that hand across years and decades, watching it wither and the skin turn to parchment slowly next to his, developing sunspots and collecting new scars together.
Shen Qiao blinked and returned to the present. In some ways, it was way too easy to return to this old pattern. "Are you sure you don't want a second pair of chopsticks?"
"No, no, I just wanted to have another try, maybe I would like it this time," Yan Wushi said.
"And did you?"
"I'm afraid not. Please go ahead and eat."
Shen Qiao stared at him, unimpressed. He couldn't make out his facial expression, but he thought he could imagine it very well. A mean glint in his phoenix eyes, one corner of his mouth quipped up in mocking amusement.
Very, very slowly, he gathered another mouthful of noodles. He meticulously added another piece of meat. For a second, he considered dropping the noodles all over Yan Wushi's stupidly wide sleeve when he inevitably tried to steal it again. Then he remembered that it would be very rude to make an innocent restaurant deal with a Yan Wushi who was pitching a fit.
He raised the chopsticks. Blew on the noodles. Went to take a bite.
Managed.
For a second, he was so surprised he nearly dropped the chopsticks into his bowl. He chewed and swallowed, then went for the next one. This one went over without a hitch as well.
Sharpening his focus on Yan Wushi, still expecting a trap, he picked up the next one. They both remained completely silent as he made it through another few bites one by one, caught in their stand-off as they were.
From somewhere, the wind whistled and blew a rolled-up napkin through the space between them.
Then, Shen Qiao's attention was drawn to a conversation at another table and his attention slipped. Yan Wushi grabbed his hand, turned it over, and devoured the bite, except this time he wasn't pulling back.
A strip of noodle - probably a faultily shaped cat ear - had wrapped around the chopsticks during the yank. Shen Qiao felt and heard more than saw him follow the noodle upwards with his lips and teeth and tongue and twitched, trying to loosen his hold to drop the chopsticks. He was stopped by Yan Wushi's grip on his hand pressing his fingers against the wood.
When his fingertips were brushed with a warm breath and the tip of a tongue got very close to his skin, Shen Qiao's patience snapped and he yanked his entire hand back, raising the other one to prepare for a palm strike. Yan Wushi retreated back again, laughing, and sat up straighter. "There's still a piece of noodle stuck to it," he pointed out innocently. "If you're not going to let me get it, you should."
"I'm afraid my appetite is waning," Shen Qiao said in a clipped voice. Together with my nostalgia, he mentally added. As in every meeting with his husband, he wondered how he had ever missed him.
(That was a lie. He knew exactly how he had missed him. He was missing him right now, even though he was sitting across from him. But even this was better than holding his lifeless body after the duel with Hulugu and praying for a twitch, a breath, a pulse.)

"It's not good to waste food," Yan Wushi parroted back at him.

Deep breaths. You were very sad when you thought he was dead.
"I think I'll get another pair of chopsticks," Shen Qiao said.

"How thoughtful of you, to get an extra pair for me just when I thought I wanted to have some, too," Yan Wushi said.

Very, very sad. He has been way more annoying than this before.

Despite his words, after giving the server a wave and meaningfully raising the chopsticks, Shen Qiao brushed the stray piece of noodle off on the edge of the bowl and then ate another mouthful.

"Now it's just as if we kissed," Yan Wushi said smugly.
Shen Qiao nearly spat the food out again.
Do I remember wrong or is this guy even more shameless than last time??
While he was struggling with his food, the server brought over another set of chopsticks and set them down in front of Yan Wushi.
Shen Qiao thanked him and the server left.
Then Shen Qiao critically mustered the tips of his chopsticks.
"I sure hope you can kiss better than that," he said. He pushed over the bowl. "Enjoy."
He had the sudden feeling that he had just signed his death warrant. This had been a regular occurence since long before they had gotten married, and very rarely deterred him from saying something.
For a second, he felt almost at home.

Chapter Text

Roused from his slumber without knowing the cause, Shen Qiao breathed in comfortably, tried to move, and immediately regretted it.
Pain, sore muscles, at least one sprain and several bruises and lacerations flared up over most of his body, receding like a wave from shore as he stilled.
Shen Qiao sighed through his nose and searched his memories. The restaurant, the traveling on foot, the forest ... ah, now it was coming back. Their fight.
Yan Wushi just wouldn't be Yan Wushi if he wasn't pushing him to his limits.
Blinking revealed that in addition to his total exhaustion, what little he had regained from his vision had left him again, so Shen Qiao closed his eyes out of habit - not that it made any difference whatsoever - and instead listened closely.
The room itself was quiet, without the rustling of fabric or the soft hiss of breathing - if he wasn't alone in the room, anyone else would have to be intentionally disguising their presence, which made it likely Yan Wushi wasn't with him. The man could be unobtrusive when he wanted to, but that narrowed it down to about two days a year. Most of the time, he simply didn't see the need.
From below seeped murmuring, chatter and the clatter of bowls and cups, punctuated by the occasional bout of laughter. The noise was muffled, likely a closed door and a vertical distance of at least one, perhaps two floors. An inn, then, not too small, with several rooms on the top floor.
The air inside the room was still, almost stifling, so probably no open windows either, but when Shen Qiao shifted experimentally, the sound of the sheets was swallowed up by his surroundings quickly, so it probably wasn't sparsely furnished either. When he focused, he could make out the faint chirping of cicadas outside, but no birds, so he estimated the time at around sunset, give or take two hours.
Downstairs opened and closed a door, followed by the creaking of a set of stairs and two pairs of feet on wood, aproaching rapidly.
The door opened, and with a rush of fresh air, admitted Yan Wushi in a flurry of noise, footsteps, rustling clothes and commanding voice all included. He was talking animatedly to, or rather at, a member of the staff, giving orders for food and their accomodations. The poor employee, sounding a little bit of breath, shuffled after him with a series of nervous en, en, ens.
Yan Wushi turned around, the rustle of his clothes giving the impression of the motion being crisp and succinct.
"Is there something else I can do for the gentlemen?" the young man finally asked when Yan Wushi had slowed down enough for him to get in a word edgewise. Shen Qiao tensed in anticipation. Is there something else you want was a reliable way to make Yan Wushi come up with something.
In response, Yan Wushi just clucked his tongue and sighed. With two steps, he crossed the room, approaching the bed.
She Qiao was sure he could hear the menacing glint in his eyes as he lowered himself to the edge of the bed and sat down with exaggerated care.

"Awake?"

The word was honey-sweet and gentle, practically dripping with care and affection. Shen Qiao mentally reassessed the situation as worse than expected. This was unfortunate, he had hoped their duel earlier - yesterday? - would have helped Yan Wushi to get some things out of his system.
Seeing no point in feigning sleep, he resigned himself to his fate and opened his eyes.
Yan Wushi hummed and leaned closer, sounding pleased. "How do you feel?" There was nothing but the most sincere concern and worry in his tone. Really, in another life, Yan Wushi would have done numbers in theatre. The voice alone in that tone could send people swooning.
Not Shen Qiao, though. Unfortunately, he knew his ... knew Yan Wushi to be a contrary, petty, capricious tomcat who enjoyed nothing more than to see mice and men squirm beneath his claws.
Instead of waiting for an answer, Yan Wushi clucked his tongue at him again and propped his head up with a pillow.
Shen Qiao hissed quietly at the strain it put on a laceration on the back of his neck and prompted another round of concerned questioning.
(In the background, the attendant shifted umconfortably at the private display.)

"Are you alright? What is it?"

Shen Qiao sighed soundlessly. "It's nothing. The exertion earlier made some of the effects of the poison flare up again."
That was only true in the broadest sense of the concept, but he had no compunctions lying about that. He had purged Joyful Reunion from his system, but the damage hadn't healed yet, and his damaged vision had gotten worse again. However, most of the time he could use his qi to supplement his physical shortcomings, augment his senses and speed up the healing process. Him getting worse had nothing to do with Joyful Reunion and everything to do with the fact that he had depleted his qi reserves so thoroughly that, similar as a man starving, his body had begun to consume bits of itself to sustain its own existence.
The process hadn't progressed far since he had simply passed out, but as it seemed that, combined with his newly sustained injuries, it had been enough to undo a good portion of his healing progress.
Not that he would have had any other choice with Yan Wushi pushing for a fight the way he had.
This was an issue he had only had briefly during his teens, when his body had been changing too quickly for his qi reserves to catch up and he had pushed himself too hard during training. His Shizun had gently intervened and rewritten his training regime and diet, and the issue had been resolved quickly.
Now, though, his newly rebuilt foundation was, in the ways it supplemented him with qi, very different from what he was used to; both in the quality it offered (significantly higher) and quantity (somewhat less, though overall still more useful). One could perhaps say that his qi was more concentrated, so when he reached for the amounts he was used to, he tired himself out too quickly.
He hadn't quite figured out how to pace himself to make sure he didn't run out yet, and in the heat and stress of the duel, he had let himself run head first into his limits just to stay alive in the barrage of attacks Yan Wushi had leveled at him.
"You really need to take better care of yourself," the culprit himself scolded him.
Shen Qiao took a moment to find something else to say than Really. You think so.
He managed a, "Sorry to trouble you."
It was only the faintest bit ironic, he doubted Yan Wushi would catch onto it.
Then he took a deeper breath and let the small lingering trace of resentment go. Yan Wushi was Yan Wushi. There was no point in being angry about it, and he didn't want him to change, anyway.

"I'll take better care in the future."

This time, he managed the tone of placidity and peace he had been aiming for.
For a split-second, he thought he felt surprise radiate from Yan Wushi, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.

Hoping to gain some more space, he tried to prop himself up on his elbows and winced as the action pulled on his bruised ribs and strained core muscles.
Yan Wushi immediately made another commiserating sound, but left him to struggle alone. Instead, he reached straight for his wrist, taking it into his hand with no regard for propriety or personal space, and pressed his fingers to the acupoint.
This was far from the most annoying or pushy Yan Wushi had ever been with him, so Shen Qiao let him do as he wished and settled back again with helplessness and fondness warring in his chest.

He hadn't missed the grueling series of fights that had marked long parts of their journey the first time around, even though he had to admit he looked forward to the chance of improvement they might offer him if he managed to heal up enough to become somewhat of a challenge in time before their paths separated.
But he had missed the banter, the cheerful attempts at getting to know him by getting under his skin and around his guard over and over. The attempts had an edge to them that had been missing in the past few years, a bite that was often just a little too close to drawing blood, but they were there and they were undeniably him.
It ached in all the ways Shen Qiao knew and Yan Wushi didn't, but it was multitudes better than the hollow, echoing feeling of absence and loss that had caught up with him in the restaurant at Xuandu Town.
Perhaps it was a sort of constant that when Shen Qiao was around somewhere he could be pestered, teased and annoyed, Yan Wushi was absolutely going to find him.

Shen Qiao only vaguely registered Yan Wushi making extremely disapproving noises over the state of his meridians before loudly sending the attendant out with specific instructions on what medicine to fetch immediately and which other things to buy soon, all the while fussing over him with exaggerated care (unnecessary) and pushing more pillows beneath his back to help him sit more upright (mostly unnecessary).
With fond reluctance, Shen Qiao resigned himself to getting a lot of attention from his beloved over the next few days or weeks.

The steps of the attendant faded down the hallway and Yan Wushi stopped the motion of tucking a lock of Shen Qiao's hair behind his ear, letting his hand hover next to his neck and causing cold shivers to break out along Shen Qiao's side.

"I didn't knock your head off of your shoulders earlier, did I?" Yan Wushi asked quietly, conversationally, and much more openly threatening. "You've been strangely quiet."

"If Yan-zongzhu was trying, I'm afraid I have to disappoint him," Shen Qiao replied.

He received the feeling of being mustered with a tilted head, before Yan Wushi dropped his arm back on the bed like ... something that one dropped carelessly, he didn't know. A dead fish, maybe.
"In any case, better get back on your feet quickly, we'll be back to traveling soon." And you better not slow me down, was implied.

"Or what?" Shen Qiao asked on sheer reflex.

In an instant, the air solidified into chunks of ice wrapped in barbed wire.
Pleasantly, Yan Wushi said, "There is no 'or'."

Shen Qiao was not in the mood to push that particular line further and remained silent.
~
A few minutes later.
"Come on, just a few spoonfuls," Yan Wushi coaxed him.
Shen Qiao pursed his lips in annoyance and avoided turning his head to the side. The medicine was sure to be bitter, but being treated like a child tasted worse.

Yan Wushi clucked his tongue, knelt on the bed with one knee and leaned over him, shifting as if he intended to climb onto the mattress completely.

"I'll take it," Shen Qiao said hurriedly.

The attendant was still hovering awkwardly just outside the door.

"I'm glad," Yan Wushi said sweetly, putting the bowl down on the nightstand with a clack. "Say 'ah'."

"I can eat it myself," Shen Qiao ground out.

"Allow me," Yan Wushi said.

Shen Qiao was sure he was the only one who heard the challenge in his voice.
He took a deep, calming breath that stuttered when Yan Wushi's warm hand cupped the side of his neck, thumb slipping under the edge of his jaw.
Keeping his thumb in place, Yan Wushi used it to tilt his head upwards and touched the spoonful of medicine to his lips.
Fighting a grimace, Shen Qiao made himself swallow.
Yan Wushi idly traced the side of his adam's apple where it had contracted and hummed with audible satisfaction edging into smugness.
Shen Qiao wasn't even sure if he was mad that Yan Wushi was doing too much for their current relationship, or by leagues and miles too little for what they probably both wanted.
He was definitely mad about that smirk, though.
It was going to be a very large bowl of medicine.

About seven eternities and twenty-seven increasingly cool spoonfuls later, the attendant practically fled downstairs with the bowl and spoon clutched to his chest.

Shen Qiao sighed in relief. With the spectator gone, at least their charade was going to be on hiatus for a little while again.

Yan Wushi shifted his attention back to Shen Qiao and patted the back of his hand condescendingly in return.

"Don't tell me you have somewhere else to be? I paid your martial siblings a visit before I came to find you. It sure sounds like they would be glad to have you back, just not as if you would be glad to be back."

Shen Qiao remained silent.

"No? Nothing to say to that? Then maybe that friend of yours will come and see you. Did you remember the meeting spot from the letter after all?"

Shen Qiao sighed quietly and closed his eyes.
Keeping them shut, he said, "If it's the same person I met on the road to Mt Xuandu, then I'm positive we haven't met before at this point in time."
That was absolutely true. He had also become a very good liar over the years, even if it wasn't a skill he had practiced on the people closest to him, and the combination of these two things should help him slide that white lie over convincingly. "But if the letter was really meant for me, perhaps I can find something else useful in it. Why don't you read it to me in its entirety this time?"

And so it came to be that the attendant returned with the next bowl of steaming medicine, he was returning to Yan Wushi reading flowery, terrible love poetry to Shen Qiao with a straight and serious face.
The man set the bowl down on the table very quietly, backed away very slowly, and fled.
Alright, Shen Qiao had to admit to himself, that one was completely on him.

Chapter Text

"You left us rather early at Funing county," Yan Wushi said over his shoulder, in a clipped tone.

Ah, Shen Qiao thought, there it was.

They had left the inn early the next morning, with Shen Qiao still working out his sore muscles, but recovered enough to move, and were currently traveling on foot, at a steady pace, towards Huai Province It was in the kingdom of Qi, and therefore firmly in Harmony Sect territory; Shen Qiao wasn't sure what Yan Wushi hoped to gain there, but if he had to guess, he had concluded from the dual cultivation techniques in Bai Rong's letter that the thief was a member of the demonic sects, and had strong suspicions about them belonging to Hehuan.
Quietly, Shen Qiao mourned that Bai Rong had made the letter so colorfully personal. She had wanted it to be a guide for Shen Qiao to find her, and now Yan Wushi was going to pluck it apart at the seams and trace it back to her, clue by clue.
He could just hope - and he couldn't believe he was saying this - that Sang Jinxing was still as creepily possessive of his students as ever ... or that she had left her sect altogether. The latter might almost be worse, though. Unfortunate as it was, if she was antagonizing the rest of the cultivation world, she was going to need the limited protection being part of a major sect awarded her. And even though Shen Qiao still wished Bai Rong would leave that viper's nest behind her and start over, he had no illusions that Bai Rong would want to end up at the top of her particular viper's pit again.
And she had been good for them, he had to admit. The countries she had worked with had flourished. She had come down hard on her sect's human trafficking practices and reformed the education systems to a more merit-based approach, strengthened ties between martial siblings and encouraged teamwork instead of the previous system of tearing each other down to get ahead. She had established a code of rights, and she had enforced it.
It made him wonder, in retrospect, how much work would need to have gone into the kingdom of Qi to reform it to what it was supposed to be, instead of letting it crumble into dust.
Yan Wushi had dropped back to walk next to him, tired of being ignored.

"What has got you so deep in thought?"

"Intergenerational sect politics and the reconstruction of a country," Shen Qiao replied without thinking, then internally froze. This was an openness reserved for close friends, allies, perhaps lovers. It was what he was used to offering Yan Wushi, but it was wildly inappropriate for the situation at hand. He sounded pretentious at best, bragging and mildly condescending at worst.

Fortunately, Yan Wushi just laughed out loud.
"Intergenerational sect politics and the workings of a country," he repeated, letting the words roll off of his tongue.
"My, Sect Leader Shen is surely reaching high today. I am fascinated, haven't you been living on top of a mountain until a few months ago? Pray tell, what do you think you know of sect politics and how to reform a country?"

"Admittedly not much," Shen Qiao said. This was stretching the truth only a little. "I was just thinking that Qi didn't seem to be very stable, and that I don't think it will last much longer. Mount Xuandu has stayed out of worldly affairs for that exact reason, but seeing as Hehuan Sect are attached to them, how could they have let it get this bad?"
Please take the bait and just give me another lecture about politics, Shen Qiao mentally pleaded. You love giving those. I am not up to holding a full conversation with you at the moment. I'm not sure of what I would do.
For a moment, Shen Qiao had the feeling of being mustered sharply.
"Ah, aren't you fortunate to have me with you," Yan Wushi said finally and turned back to keep walking. "Hehuan, of course, didn't stop the descent of Qi because at the time it began, they were benefitting from it more than they were losing ..."
Internally, Shen Qiao sighed with relief. A break.
There was something very wrong with him, he admitted to himself, to be considering a lecture on politics held by Yan Wushi as a break. Yu Shengyan would be horrified.
The thought brought a smile to his face.

"What?" Yan Wushi demanded to know, who had thrown a glance over his shoulder at that exact moment and caught the expression.

Shen Qiao just smiled and shook his head. "It's too kind of Yan-Zongzhu to fill the gaps in this poor one's education." It was. He had forgotten much in the intervening years. "Please, do continue."
He felt a wave of suspicion roll towards him and just waited indulgently. Yan Wushi would come around. Or he would start a duel in the middle of the street, in full daylight, or do something similarly excentric.
One never knew. It was part of the charm.

Half an hour later, Shen Qiao was deep in thought over the questions Yan Wushi had begun to ask him about the different rulers in the middle plains and their respective weaknesses.
"I haven't heard much about Yuwen Yong, except that he overworks himself," he finally said. "And I think Yan-Zongzhu might agree with me if I say that his son and heir is an idiot."

Yan Wushi snorted. "An idiot is putting it kindly. Given the chance, the boy would squander all the potential his father built up over the last two decades within a few scant years, and then get himself killed. Him being heir is threatening to cause Qi's exact situation, but faster. Rarely have I seen such a competent man have such an incompetent son."

Harsh words, Shen Qiao thought, but not untrue ones. He had to quietly admire Yan Wushi's foresight back then, having predicted all of this long before it happened. His political intuition really was unparalleled.

A good while later, Shen Qiao summarized. "So hehuan is in danger of fracturing because Yuan Xiuxiu and Sang Jinxing's camps are conflicting, the Tujue are making more and more bids for power within different sects - mostly but not limited to smaller or isolated ones -, Qi is about to get invaded by Zhou and lots of people are angry about that ... am I forgetting something else?"
"Fajing sect has been strangely active recently as well. They usually don't stray too far from their territories in the south since the demonic sects fractured. Aside from that," Yan Wushi hummed disdainfully, "it was a half-decent picture overall."
SQ raised his eyebrows at his back in faint amusement at the condescending tone. Yan Wushi insisted on treating him like a student for now, but he was pretty sure Yu Shengyan would have gotten a rare nod of approval for an analysis like that.
Interesting.

Their conversation was drawing to a natural close. They had entered the city gates a few minutes ago and were nearing what sounded like another inn.
Slowing his steps, Yan Wushi turned back to Shen Qiao once more.

"You didn't answer me earlier," he said, the picture of a concerned and gracious host. "You left the residence at Funing county rather abruptly, without even saying goodbye. Was something the matter?"

Shen Qiao felt he needed to tread carefully.
"Your hospitality was impeccable," he said, choosing his words with care. "I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life, either."

"No, you didn't," Yan Wushi said airily, "So imagine my disappointment when my treasured guest had packed up and left in the middle of the night without even so much as a by your leave."

For a brief moment, Shen Qiao considered throwing Yu Shengyan to the wolves - to say he had known there was something strange about him from the way he was acting, and it had made him suspicious.
His affection for his former friend won out, though. After all, Yu Shengyan had once carried him all the way back to Xie residence on his own, and then overseen his convalescence. Twice, even, depending on how you looked at it.
"Yan-Zongzhu must understand," Shen Qiao finally said, "that the last thing I remembered was realizing I had been poisoned, and then I woke up somewhere completely else. I simply didn't feel comfortable staying where I was for even one moment longer." The words tasted ashy and empty on his tongue. They were technically the truth. He felt horrible about it.

"I see," Yan Wushi said, his voice dripping with mockery. "So you ... returned to the place you had been poisoned in."

"I returned home," Shen Qiao corrected quietly.

A moment of silence passed between them. It was difficult to parse, but Shen Qiao thought it didn't sound impressed.

"A home that tried to kill you."

Right.
Xie Ling had run away from home during his teenage years, wandered the jianghu for an indeterminate amount of time and taken up the name Yan Wushi, meaning without a father or follows no leader as his new identity, casting off everything his old life had had to offer before fighting his way to the top of Huanyue sect.

Home might not be a sentiment Yan Wushi was very open to, when he had no reason to tolerate it for Shen Qiao's sake.

"Actually, they were trying very hard not to kill me," Shen Qiao corrected gently. "The poison was easily strong enough to, but the dose was kept deliberately low. It was meant to incapacitate me, not to be fatal."

The following silence said very clearly, that's worse. You get how that's worse, right?
"How gracious of them," Yan Wushi said drily. "That after all this trouble, they still wanted to keep you as a pet. Is that the daoist concept of mercy, I wonder?"

Shen Qiao sighed through his nose. He agreed with him, but he was not going to admit that out loud.

"In any case, why were you in such a hurry to run back to them?" Yan Wushi inquired again.

Shen Qiao sighed again. "I just had some business to attend there," he replied.

"Urgent, I assume."

"En."

"Finished?"

"En." For now.

"And what were your plans for afterward, after you had finished?"

"I was in the process of reviewing my options when you found me." His plans had crystallized out some more over the last two days. The fall of Qi was inevitable, and had overall been an improvement for the population there. Bai Rong could, at least for the present being, handle herself; Yuwen Yong's death at the hands of his son was still months away from happening.
All of these were pressing concerns, but the most time sensitive one ...
Shiwu.
He had to find Shiwu, before starvation and civil unrest really did kill his student the way they almost had the last time.
The chances were slim; he was unsure of the exact date they had met originally, but he knew the place, and he knew his voice well enough to distinguish him in a crowd even with his impaired sight.
It was going to be tough. But he was going to try.

"Well," Yan Wushi said nonchalantly. "As it just so happens, I also have 'just some business' to attend to around here. Pick an inn and find a room, I'll come find you in a few hours."
And with those words, he vanished before Shen Qiao could protest that surely, they would want two rooms.

Unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed, Shen Qiao stayed on his spot in the street for a few seconds, just letting the waves of pedestrians wash around him.
What was he to do? Yan Wushi could either be sulking or really have an errand to run, there was no telling. With a mental shrug, he entered the inn, planning to meditate and circulate his qi some more to promote his healing. After some thinking, he ordered only one set of rooms - first, Yan Wushi had spoken of only one, and second, he had a feeling that even if he did ask for two, Yan Wushi would be spending all of his time in Shen Qiao's room anyway.
Transaction done, Shen Qiao considered his options. It was too early to eat, but at this time of the day, he didn't really want to sink himself into meditation either ... Then he caught the tail end of a coversation somewhere in the crowd, passing on his left side.
"That Commandery Prince of Chenyang, he really has a reputation, huh ..."
The person was immediately frightfully shushed by their local guide, but Shen Qiao's thoughts had already turned into a new direction.
Right. There was one thing he could do about the general state of Qi while he was here.
It looked like he had some business to take care of here as well.

Chapter Text

It was late, it was dark, the wind was gently moving the curtains of Mu Tipo's bedroom -
The wind was gently moving the curtains of his bedroom. Mu Tipo was suddenly wide awake. Trying to be quiet, he reached for the dagger under his pillow and rose to his feet. The floor boards didn't creak under his feet because he knew which spaces to avoid.
He let his gaze wander around his room, checking for danger. There was light shimmering through his screen door, and moonlight filtering in through a gap in the curtain. There was the window, the wall, the go table, decorations, bed -
"We need to talk," the tall shadow in the corner behind the go table murmured.
Mu Tipo flinched, pushed past the instinctive terror that settled in his bones, raised his knife, and roared - "GUARDS!" - before lunging at the intruder. He was a second-rate martial artist; ninety-five percent of the population didn't stand a chance against him. He could deal with one attacker for himself for a few seconds.

The shadow side-stepped, made exactly one move, and suddenly Mu Tipo found himself blinking up at the ceiling, lying on his back on top of the go table, with the wind knocked out of him.
The end of a bamboo cane, split, scratched and frayed from being tapped on the road, was held across his throat, close enough to crush his larynx at a moment's notice. He had seen enough people die from similar injuries to know it was an ugly way to die.

The shadow was unmoved by his struggle for air.
"Do you hear that?"

Mu Tipo remained silent, but strained his ears.

"No?"

There was nothing but the whispering of the wind in the curtains and his own laboured wheezing.

"Exactly," the shadow said in the same calm, low voice. "Nobody is coming for you."

Panic began to claw its way up Mu Tipo's throat.

"And now you and I are going to have a little chat."

Captive #4 was in a pretty room, staring at the walls of their pretty cage with hollow eyes and running a finger along the edge of a bruise again and again.
A knock at the door sent a jolt of fear through them. They rose to their feet, panically tugging at their clothes and running through a list of things that might need to be taken care of.
Mu Tipo hadn't been with them in a few days - they were losing favor, and fast.
They just weren't sure if that was a shot at finally getting out again - or, an increasingly hopeless voice suggested, a surefire sign that their usefulness had expired, and it was about to get infinitely worse.
The door slid open to reveal Mu Tipo.
The face they had once thought was handsome was now visibly pale. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and the hand he had placed on the doorframe trembled slightly.
Captive #4 swallowed and drew themselves up taller.

"I," Mu Tipo said, voice hoarse and pressed through clenched teeth, "... apologize." He sounded like every syllable was extracted from between his teeth under great pain.

The ability to keep an inscrutable, vaguely pleasant expression had served captive #4 well in the last few months, and they were able to keep their face from slipping.

Mu Tipo sucked in a breath through his teeth and continued in the same manner of speaking.
"I have ... behaved ... dishonorably towards you and your family."

Oh, captive #4 thought, apparently they had finally snapped under the pressure of their captivity.
In a dream-like haze, they listened to the rest of his short speech, accepted a surprisingly heavy money pouch pressed into their hands, and let the words free to go wash over them like a river through a bed that had been dry for the summer, or for years.

Their eyes had unfocused at some point and slipped over his shoulder to the dimly lit corridor. Behind Mu Tipo loomed a tall stranger, shrouded in the half-shadows of a lone lantern on the floor.
Captive #4 followed Mu Tipo, who passed by the stranger and led them both down to the courtyard.
Outside, three other people were waiting already, each of them with their own money pouch, looking tired and frightened and tentatively, terrifyingly hopeful. One of them was half-leaning on someone else, barely able to stand. The third person was holding the reins of two short, but sturdy horses. Captive #4 had seen them before. They were used to carry hunting gear that the nobles didn't want to carry themselves.

Captive #4 stared at the other three in silence while the shadow waved Mu Tipo back for a private conversation inside the building. One of the horses stomped its feet nervously, unsettled by the strange atmosphere of the people around it.

It didn't take long for the shadow to return. Out in the moonlight, his features were more obvious; he wore a wide-brimmed hat as well as a loose dark overcoat, beneath which one could from time to time catch a glimpse of light robes.
The stranger led them towards the gates of the estates, and they all followed.
For the first time in weeks, captive #4's heart stirred with something other than fear.
The gates, looming tall, dark and forbidden in front of them, rumbled, shifted, and moved.
Someone had given the order to let them pass.

They were whispering furiously amongst themselves the whole way from the estate to the dingiest alleys of the city. In a small, hidden back alley, the shadow finally turned around to face them.

"What's to stop Mu Tipo from coming after us after you're gone?" Captive #2 was young, brash, pretty, and had blazing eyes together with an inability to shut up.
Very young, actually. Captive #4's stomach turned.

"Not much, I'm afraid," the stranger said grimly. "So I recommend taking the money, and the horses, and whoever among your families you feel you need, and running for the hills."

They all shared a grim silence. It wouldn't be easy. There was a famine, and a looming war on the horizon.
But they each had what was a sizable payment for a nobleman and a fortune for a commoner with them, and they had a way to freedom.
It was leagues better than what they had had before today.

"He'll just go hunting again," #3 snapped from #1's shoulder. "If it isn't us, he'll find someone else. What's the point of this?"
#4 wanted desperately to shush them.

A smile crept into the stranger's voice. "Of course that's a possibility. I made sure to let him know, though, that if I ever heard about him human hunting or kidnapping again, I'd come back and pay him another visit, and he didn't seem enthused about the prospect. Besides."
The stranger shifted his sleeves. On the lighter fabric beneath were a few dark spots, like blood.
"He'd be missing one or two things to make use of the opportunity himself."

Captive #4 knew the grin on their face was feral and slightly blood crazed. It was as far away from demure and pretty as it could get.
It felt amazing.

A few minutes later, Shen Qiao slipped through the window of his room at the inn and stretched like a cat.
Since his vision was still bad, especially in the dark, he asked quietly: "Yan-Zongzhu?"
No answer.
With a shrug, Shen Qiao stripped off his boots, his sword belt, his coat and his outermost robe, bundled them together and put them away before navigating to the bed by feel and slipping under the covers.

For a moment, Shen Qiao wondered if Yan Wushi was just going to leave him here - if something else had caught his attention and he had straight up forgotten about, or lost interest, in Shen Qiao.
Then he quietly laughed to himself.
He wasn't nearly that lucky.

Chapter Text

It was dawn by the time Yan Wushi returned to the inn, the pink and orange hues of the sun stretching and yawning before rising completely tinting the roofs and birds cheerfully trilling to announce their start to the morning. Circling the inn once, Yan Wushi made some educated guesses about the rooms and which ones were likely to have been chosen by Shen Qiao - second floor, window access, not too big - before strolling in, past the empty reception and up the stairs. The second room he tried was unlocked and yes, there was his newest puzzle to solve. To his surprise, Shen Qiao was still firmly asleep on one of the beds - the room had two, how uselessly considerate of him - and didn't even stir when he slid the door shut behind himself and sat down at the table. Good, that left him with enough time to think some more. With nothing better to do, he picked out the go stones and began placing a few.

He had spent the night touching up on some old contacts, listening out for gossip on the streets, and later when any sane or lawful person would be in bed, searching out Yuan Xiuxiu. She had been surprisingly willing to speak with him, considering the hour - he supposed she, too, was aware about the looming war between Zhou and Qi and was eager to establish connections to curtail the damage. Too bad; Yan Wushi wasn't one to play carefully when there was everything to be won and not much to lose, and he quite liked their chances of conquering Qi entirely.
When it had finally come to blows - unsurprising for two such opposed martial artists of their calibre - he had found something interesting.
Yuan Xiuxiu possessed no solarity qi. Which very clearly meant that whoever had stolen the book of free will hadn't passed it onto her. This implied one of two things:
1) one of her disciples had betrayed her,
2) she hadn't sent the thief.

The first was unlikely; Yuan Xiuxiu ruled her sect with an iron fist. Whoever would have kept the scroll to themselves would have to hide all of their improvement completely to avoid suspicion; they wouldn't even be able to secede from the sect, because of the need to keep up appearances, and maintaining that kind of double life took skill and cunning he knew very few people had, especially at the age and experience of a disciple.
The dual cultivation section of the letter was one he was vaguely familiar with, and he recognized it as belonging to the Harmony sect.
That ruled out the entirety of the Mirror of Arts Sect as well as Mount Xuandu, and left Sang Jingxing as the primary suspect.

He would have to meet up with him and find a way to check if the Qi he used held any traces of the Strategy, in other words, pick a fight.

Which neatly brought him back to his other lead, and second source of knowledge about the Strategy of the Vermilion Yang, who was currently still slumbering cluelessly on the bed.
Really, a martial artist of Shen Qiao's skill level should have a lighter sleep than this. A potential enemy entering their room was a threat and should be perceived as such ... it was a marvel the man had survived this long.
The sun had crept up far enough to stretch its rays through the window and across the room, from below the inn made the sounds and groans of a building slowly waking up, and the man still hadn't stirred.
Yan Wushi shrugged to himself and went to fetch himself a tray of tea from downstairs. While the leaves stewed, he mentally ran through everything he knew about Shen Qiao.

Someone had stolen the Book of Free Will out from under the combined noses of the best and brightest of at least three, perhaps four different factions. None of the great sects had claimed the deed, nobody seemed to have an inkling where the scroll might have ended up.
Shen Qiao hadn't seemed to be involved directly, but all of the available evidence led back to him so far.
Shen Qiao, who had lost a duel that by all accounts should have been an easy victory for him - Yan Wushi had fought both him and Kunye, and going by those impressions, Kunye had been nowhere near pre-fall Shen Qiao's level. Shen Qiao, whose sect hadn't protected him from whatever sabotage had probably occurred, and had even failed to raise a fuss about it afterwards.
Pouring himself a cup, Yan Wushi began to go through their interactions one by one.
Shen Qiao had disappeared from Xie mansion without a trace, injured and blind, without running into anyone - almost as if he had been already familiar with the layout and guard details, but that was ridiculous. Yan Wushi promptly forgot about the whole thing again until the solarity went missing and the letter mentioned him explicitly, so he did the reasonable thing and paid a visit to Mount Xuandu. Upon kicking down Yu Ai's door, he had promptly gotten an earful of guilt, which had been hilarious - if you poison someone, don't complain that it works! - but useless other than telling him Yu Ai had no idea where his Shixiong was either. However, a closer inspection of the back hill revealed someone had taken the path up the cliff side recently, which explained the 'haunting' rather well.
So he followed that trail - the sect's wards didn't seem to have a problem with someone getting out, rather than in - and lost it somewhere in the direction of the town at the bottom of the mountain.
He stumbled over Shen Qiao by sheer luck.
The man was heavily injured and had suffered a humiliating defeat recently, but one wouldn'tknow from looking at him. He was supposed to be at the lowest point of his life. He didn't act like it - an impressive display of composure, though Yan Wushi wondered how much of that was him hanging on by his fingernails and what it would take to give him one final push to slip and fall.
Shen Qiao not asking for his name as he sat down, and later addressing him by name anyway.
They had never spoken with each other before. Could he see, Yan Wushi would have supposed that Shen Qiao had recognized him from a description, or perhaps from that duel with Qi Fengge ten years ago if his memory was very good, but the man was functionally blind. Every time he had to reach for something he didn't know the position of, he had to run his fingers across the nearest surface until he bumped into it.
That left his voice and his behavior. Perhaps that was it - Shen Qiao had gathered context clues throughout their conversation and then guessed correctly who it was that had come to see him.
Then, they left the inn together.

Let's look at this from Shen Qiao's point of view again, shall we?

When they were back outside on the streets, Shen Qiao put a few coins into the bowl of a beggar.
Yan Wushi sneered. "Ah? Truly generous of Shen-Daozhang, to take care of the residents of Xuandu Town even though it's not your responsibility anymore!"
Internally, Shen Qiao sighed fondly. Now you're just being mean for the fun of it.
Externally, he smiled mildly, leading them both away from the person to spare them the conflict.
For a moment, he considered just thanking Yan Wushi and keeping on walking, but he suspected Yan Wushi already had a follow-up for that as well.
He said, "If Sect Leader Yan can be a sect leader and not take care of the people here, surely it's possible that I do it the other way around."

"Ah," Yan Wushi mocked, "but aren't you equally unfortunate as that man? Why are you helping him when your situation is barely any better?"

Shen Qiao smiled to himself. "How could I be as unfortunate as him, if I have you accompanying me?"

(He sounded completely sincere, which did not make any sense to Yan Wushi whatsoever. It should be a joke or an insult. The words sounded like a joke. The tone said nothing but sincere. If he was honest, he quietly freaked out a bit.)

He heard Yan Wushi's steps falter for a second and slowed down so he didn't walk into him. Shen Qiao waited with his face politely blank and the feeling of being stared at.
Yan Wushi's steps picked up again, and Shen Qiao followed, allowing his eyes to crinkle with amusement.

Over the course of the next few hours, Shen Qiao allowed his mind to wander.
It was not like he had to be anywhere urgently, and while he did have places to be and things to take care of eventually, a good deal of them were connected to Yan Wushi, so travelling together actually was strategically sound. All in all, things could be worse.
He let himself relax into the rhythm of their steps and the tock, tock, tock of the bamboo staff on the stone-paved road.
And then Yan Wushi stopped in the middle of a forest and turned.

Inaudibly, Shen Qiao sighed.
They exchanged a few short sentences that boiled down to Yan Wushi saying, "Fight me."

Tensely, Shen Qiao said, "Yan-zongzhu is unlikely to find me a worthy match today. I'm afraid you will be quite bored."
"You haven't bored me yet," Yan Wushi replied with a grim smile.
Shen Qiao threw himself to the side to dodge the first palm strike aimed straight for his head.

Despite fighting too quickly for the eye to see, Yan Wushi's mind was analyzing the fight for all it was worth.
Shen Qiao wasn't afraid of him at all, even though he had a healthy respect for his abilities.
He was skilled, polished technique shining through despite his diminished power, every move strategic, calm, keeping him on his toes. Within his qi circled strands of energy that were familiar - when pressed, Kunye had exuded wisps of the same qi. This had to be the effect of the Solarity both of them had studied. However, it was far more prominent in Shen Qiao's qi. Perhaps this was because Kunye had refused to give his all until the end and SQ didn't have the choice to hold back.

Yan Wushi extrapolated to before his fall, mentally compared him to Kunye, and silently confirmed to himself that that duel had been fudged. Unfortunately, this meant that he couldn't even vicariously duel Qi Fengge, since this man was a pale imitation of what he had been, and even before that probably worse than his master.

However, despite the injuries, Shen Qiao moved confidently and self-assuredly, as if he had had a lot of practice moving with the impairments, and not at all like he had recently suffered a staggering series of injuries that had mercilessly decimated his martial power.
Yan Wushi's strikes carried more power, and he was still holding back, but nonetheless Shen Qiao deflected every single one calmly, collectedly, with a precision and control that allowed him to conserve his limited power well - not meeting strikes head-on where possible, dodging, and calmly waiting for an opening of his own.
It was the overall fighting style of someone who had learned to live with his limitations well.
It was remarkable for such a short span of time. Some might even say it was unrealistic.
Yan Wushi narrowed his eyes and applied his Spring Fingering Technique, a set of moves both deceptively elegant and utterly lethal. Without missing a beat, Shen Qiao responded, anticipating the rest of the sequence and dancing around it with something like joy, an easiness that could almost be familiarity.
Yan Wushi let himself fall into the rhythm of the fight once more.
This was implausible. He was a martial master of the highest calibre. No matter how skilled Shen Qiao was, it should be impossible for him to anticipate his moves so well without any prior knowledge.
Then, Yan Wushi concluded, Shen Qiao must have learned about them from somewhere. The closest possible source was Qi Fengge, who he had attempted to use the technique on before he had entered seclusion. But Yan Wushi's fighting style had changed drastically during his decade of seclusion, and the ease of Shen Qiao's movements spoke of long practice. Had Qi Fengge dedicated lessons to his fighting style?
No, Yan Wushi was arrogant, but not arrogant enough to believe he had left that much of an impression on Qi Fengge.
He pressed another attack and caught another swirl of what he thought was Zhuyang Ce. He thought he was getting a vague idea of the shape of the technique.
Then perhaps, someone had told Shen Qiao. In all propability even more than just his techniques, since Shen Qiao had escaped from Xie Residence seemingly without any effort, as if he had known the layout beforehand. Also, someone had warned the Harmony Sect's spy of Yu Shengyan's mission to kill him and he had fled the city accordingly.
Briefly, Yan Wushi contemplated the chance of one if his servants having been captured and tortured for information, but that, too, didn't make sense. Nobody who would have had all of this information had gone missing.
That left the possibility of a mole in his ranks.
Shen Qiao's easy knowledge about him certainly seemed to suggest as much. But that, too, didn't quite fit - nor did it explain Shen Qiao's proficiency at predicting his attacks.
In any case, there was something off about Shen Qiao that he could add to the list of things that didn't make sense about the man. And he certainly wouldn't let his guard down around this stranger who was conspicuously well-versed in fighting him specifically.
He wondered what was going through Shen Qiao's head right now.

What Shen Qiao was thinking was something along the lines of, Ah, we've fought so many times that this feels like a familiar set of opening moves. Here's the shift, there's that dodge and here he slips around me to attack from where I wouldn't expect him, I can dodge this to here and then take one more step and yup, now it's over.
He found himself backed up against a tree, there wasn't enough open space to the right, and Yan Wushi was approaching from the front left. Shen Qiao took the final hit head-on, palm against palm, both of his hands straining to block a single one of Yan Wushi's and barely managing to keep it in place, a stalemate that quivered when his already blurry vision greyed out.
He slipped. The last thing that went through his head was, strangely:
I wish we could have done this for longer.
The hit connected.

In the present, Shen Qiao's breathing pattern changed slightly, indicating he was about to wake up.
Yan Wushi wondered if he had tired Shen Qiao out too much with that duel and the hike towards Qi the next day. It was nearing an hour where nobody not sick or actively dying could respectably stay asleep.

Without looking up from his go formation, he said, "A-Qiao, the Harmony Sect Rats are thinking about leaving the sinking ship. Qi really must be at the brink of collapse if even they can't suck out any more of its marrow."
Shen Qiao's breathing was still even. The new nickname probably hadn't even registered.
"Amazing," Shen Qiao mumbled after a few seconds. "You're as astute as ever." He said nothing else for a second, and Yan Wushi already began to wonder if he had gone back to sleep. Then, "Now are you coming back to bed or not?"
For a few seconds, Yan Wushi just stared. Then he shrugged to himself, crossed the room and leaned over him.
To his surprise, Shen Qiao wrapped his arms around him, pulled him down on top of him, and ... immediately fell back asleep.

Yan Wushi lay there, with one of Shen Qiao's hands on his lower back and the on his nape, with his face over Shen Qiao's right shoulder and his breath reflecting back from the mattress and the crook of Shen Qiao's neck, and waited. Nothing else was forthcoming.
To himself, Yan Wushi thought, This person definitely has mental problems.

Chapter Text

When Shen Qiao woke up, before even opening his eyes, he habitually took stock of his injuries.
To his surprise, very little hurt. Joyful reunion had faded down to a faint simmer in his bones, a shadow of the marrow-crushing force it had been; some of his muscles were sore, but not unpleasantly so; his head was foggy from sleep instead of exhaustion. He was lying on something soft and surrounded by something warm.

A little too warm, actually. He puzzled a few seconds over why that felt mildly alarming. Of course he knew who that weight above him was; it was -

Memory came crashing back like a wave onto shore, leaving him drenched and with a rising feeling that he had embarrassed himself.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. They had healed significantly overnight and it was bright already, so he could regrettably see every detail of the playful glint in Yan Wushi's half-lidded eyes from where they were mustering him from directly next to his face.

It had to be said, they were very pretty eyes, especially when the morning sun was hitting them just so and bringing out a mahogani shimmer and a darker ring around the pupils. Pretty, unfortunately, in the same way as a tiger mid-leap; liable to be the last thing one ever saw.

In self-defense, Shen Qiao closed his own eyes again. This heightened the sensation of Yan Wushi plastered all across his right side, one leg hooked over his thighs and one arm across his torso, radiating warmth even through the blanket separating them.
Shen Qiao realized where his hands were. He opened one eye to look at Yan Wushi and lifted both of them slightly.
Yan Wushi tutted at him, caught his elbow and pushed the one above the small of his back in place.
Um.
Shen Qiao attacked the mental task of untangling his thoughts enough to figure out what was going on. The growing smirk on the face next to him promised he was not going to like whatever they would come up with.
He didn't quite want to ask, why are you in my bed. He had a horrible suspicion about the answer and he did not want to be proven right.

And here he had thought he was handling the absence well.

Yan Wushi, who seemed to have taken what passed for pity with him on Shen Qiao, chuckled.
"I do wonder what your love letter sending friend would think if he saw us right now."

Shen Qiao found himself at even more of a loss for words.

"Wouldn't he be horribly disappointed in you scorning him so?"

"..."

Yan Wushi sighed mournfully before settling in more comfortably. When Shen Qiao looked up to the ceiling, he could feel warm breath all along the side of his neck.
Yan Wushi hummed. His voice grew a little darker and more velvety. "Tell me ... what was your business on Mount Xuandu again?"

Where his arm was lying across Shen Qiao's torso, he had begun to trace little circles into the hollow beneath Shen Qiao's collar bone with his thumb.

Shen Qiao shifted. It was distracting, but not distracting enough for him to miss the hint of demonic persuasion that had slipped into the words.
He lowered his eyelids and sighed through his nose.
He really is like a dog with a bone.

"What were you really doing there, hm? You evaded so carefully, last time. And you were in such a hurry getting there, too."

Shen Qiao remained silent.

"Is it perhaps because you were meeting with an ... old friend?"

"You could say that," murmured Shen Qiao unthinkingly. Yu Ai had been accepted as Qi Fengge's disciple not long after him, and they had been - were now again - close together in age. If anything, Yu Ai had been his oldest and closest friend for most of his life.
Again, Yan Wushi chuckled. "Well, I suppose a friend talking about one like that is an excellent reason to hurry."
In Shen Qiao's head, several trains of thought came to a screeching halt, nearly crashed into each other, and then hastily rearranged themselves until the picture made sense again.
He promptly started looking for a way to say, I'd never sleep with Bai Rong, while using neither Bai Rong nor sleep with in the actual sentence.
"I told you before, we barely met," Shen Qiao said, feeling himself blush against his will. "There's clearly something strange about them, too. I have no idea what that person even wants from me."
"Oh, really?" Yan Wushi said, his smirk returning in full force, "I think it's rather obvious what that person wants from you."
"You -!" Shen Qiao knew his face was red, he just didn't know what to do about it. Having nowhere to go, he grabbed Yan Wushi by the back of his collar and the side of his belt, pulled him up and shoved him a little further off to the side. It moved him by about an inch, since hey, the guy was mostly muscle and the leverage from Shen Qiao's position was nonexistent, but it gave Shen Qiao space to wriggle and turn his head a little farther away from him.
Yan Wushi's fingers strayed from his collar bones up to his troat and traced the lines there.
When he chuckled, Shen Qiao could feel it through the mattress. Just a little, Shen Qiao was annoyed with himself for noticing.
Half-heartedly, he batted at the hand at his throat, only for it to withdraw and make a grab for his wrist.
Shen Qiao dodged and pushed back with his flat palm against a forearm, and suddenly they were exchanging moves.
Grappling, acupoints, strikes, even just touches were fair game.
Yan Wushi raised his hand to gather momentum for a strike, so Shen Qiao slipped closer, reached around his back and snatched his sleeve, keeping him from bringing it down again. Yan Wushi tugged for a second, noticed, and then turned into the grip, dropping his full weight on Shen Qiao, whose air left him with a quiet oof.
With his hand still tangled in the sleeve and the arm attached to it now wrapped around Yan Wushi, Shen Qiao couldn't use either. When Yan Wushi used his free hand to hit an acupoint near his hip, he didn't have a hand free to block; he bucked and managed to turn the clean hit into a brush that left his entire left leg half numb and tingling. Still, the shift had freed up his torso, so he hooked a leg around Yan Wushi's thigh and flipped them halfway before Yan Wushi stabilised them with am elbow thrown out to the side.
Caught in a strange equilibrium, they paused, mustering each other.
For a moment, Shen Qiao considered going further, falling into their familiar rhythms and fighting until Yan Wushi had him pinned against the mattress, barely a hair's breadth apart, both of them slightly out of breath and half a thought away from kissing.

But.
This wasn't the man he knew. And it wouldn't mean the same to him, anyway.
Shen Qiao started to cough. Yan Wushi relaxed next to him, lowering his offensive position, and mustered him with an inscrutable expression.
Shen Qiao knew the three words behind it.
Such a pity.
He knew he was a far way off from the equal, the rival Yan Wushi was looking for. It stung, but he definitely wasn't going to change his plans for it.
Perhaps he had to put it the other way around - he definitely wasn't going to change his plans for it, but it stung.
No point being mad about it. Yan Wushi just was like that.

He tasted no blood at the back of his throat, but maybe he had been too optimistic earlier. Or, who was he kidding - their little tussle just now had been fun, but since he had fought his way past the majority of Mu Tipo's guard yesterday, it hadn't been a good idea.
He let himself drop back onto the mattress to catch his breath.
If Yan Wushi was disappointed, he didn't show it. At least not sincerely. "Ah-Qiao is so cruel," he sighed, also lying back down, but choosing his place so that he could still lean over Shen Qiao a little. "Inviting me to your bed one moment and scorning me in the next ..."
Saying this, he reached for the wrist Shen Qiao had listlessly dropped onto the empty space between them, to run his thumb across the dip in his open palm, back and forth.
"What's wrong, hm? You were so affectionate earlier."

Shen Qiao sighed and closed his eyes. "I've told you before," he said tiredly. "I'm missing someone who isn't with me anymore."

The thumb on his hand stilled. "Ah? Is it the same old friend you met up with at Mount Xuandu?"

"No," Shen Qiao said tiredly. "It's not someone I'll ever see again."
When he rose to his feet, Yan Wushi moved out of the way to let him. Squinting a little against the brightness from the window, Shen Qiao stepped across the room to where he had left his outer robe and boots yesterday, and began to get dressed. In the daylight, he found blood stains on one of his sleeves that had set into the fabric overnight.
Yan Wushi watched him in silence. When he finished, he sat down at the table for want of something better to do. There was a half-finished game of go and a pot of tea.
The latter was lukewarm, he found out as he poured himself a cup and pursed his lips.
From the bed, Yan Wushi laughed at his expression, somewhere between his full, deep laugh and a cackle.
Shen Qiao turned his head to the wall to hide the fact that he was smiling a little ruefully.
You're not the same, he thought, but you're making a strong effort of convincing me otherwise.

Chapter Text

It was surprisingly easy to follow Yan Wushi back to the inn; it was only difficult to make sure he didn't notice.
Well, it was easy for Bai Rong, who had the Qinggong to match him, at least when he was travelling at a pace that could, for him, pass as leisurely. No, the difficult part was keeping up with him while making absolutely sure he didn't notice, because she didn't have a death wish.
She reached the inn in the early morning ours, noted through the open window that Shen Qiao was still sleeping, shrugged and went to get some breakfast.
Munching on a steamed bun filled with sesame paste - she was nineteen again! She could eat sweets without looking immature! -, Bai Rong watched through the window as Yan Wushi left the room, and then slipped over the windowsill and into the room.

Shen Qiao was sitting at the table, sipping his lukewarm tea. "I do wonder why we even have a door. Yan-Zongzhu seems to be the only one who is using it."

"Shen-lang!" Bai Rong cheered. "How have you been?" Saying this, she was already mustering him with sharp eyes.
He hadn't yet regained weight or muscle mass, but his teint had improved from worryingly pale to fashionably so. His posture was easier as well, in fact ...
"You look more relaxed," Bai Rong said innocently. "Don't tell me you and Yan-Zongzhu got up to some bed-fighting tonight?"

She had expected an embarrassed reaction and an emphatic
none of your business, but Shen Qiao opened his mouth, then closed it, looking contemplative.

"Just this morning, in fact."

Bai Rong choked on air.

"... but I think we mean different things by that."
To someone who knew him well, there was the hint of a smile in the corners of his mouth. He poured himself some more tea. He'd slept for so long that he had become dehydrated.

Bai Rong laughed in relief. "Well, one way or another, you look way better than last time."

Shen Qiao sqinted at her dark blurry outline in front of the bright window. "Whereas you look exactly the same to me."
Bai Rong opened her mouth to be offended - she'd put in an effort this time! For one, she had hair! -, paused, then laughed. "Shen-lang, you're so mean to me."

Shen Qiao slightly raised his eyebrows at her. "Don't I have reason to?"

"Huh? Shen-lang, I didn't even flirt with you this time! Don't tell me you're mad about -"

"I'm talking," Shen Qiao cut her off, "about the letter."

Bai Rong slowly closed her mouth.

"It would have been nice if you had at least taken the chance to warn me the last time we met."

There was actual reproach in his gaze, which was rare, so Bai Rong really wished she realized what he was talking about ...

"Oh," she said. "You were never at moving clouds monastery."

"No, I wasn't."

"Aaah. I did wonder why you seemed so calm last time."

Shen Qiao hummed in confirmation. "So imagine my surprise," he gave her another stern look, "when Yan Wushi showed up to kick down my door about the stolen solarity and an extremely graphic and detailed description of me including my name."

Bai Rong was silent for a moment, taking the time to imagine it as requested.
Then she promptly broke into helpless giggles.
Shen Qiao threw her an annoyed look, which really didn't help.

In that moment, there was a knock at the door.

With no hesitation, Shen Qiao shoved her under the table and called, "Enter!" Next to his feet, he could still feel Bai Rong shake with silent laughter.

A member of the staff leaned in. "Sir, is there something you need?"

"Not right now, thank you," Shen Qiao replied.
The door closed again.

Bai Rong went back to laughing out loud as she crawled out under the table and took a seat across from him.
"Sorry, Shen-Lang," she managed between two giggles, "I imagined your expression when he read that out to you."

This failed to appease Shen Qiao.

Without heed, she continued. "And ooh, imagining that in Yan Wushi's voice. Ahahaha, did he even keep a straight face? He read that to you? Such sweet things? That guy?"

"More than once, even."

Bai Rong laughed harder.

"Alright," Shen Qiao sighed. "I can see how, possibly, from an outside perspective, it might be a little bit funny. But surely not that much."

Bai Rong finally recovered and turned a little more serious. "You're right. I actually wanted to check in on you."

Shen Qiao tapped the rim of his cup. "Nobody has tried to kill me yet. What was that about?"

Bai Rong shrugged and helped herself to the second cup of tea. "You weren't at the places you were expected in, and then you were with Yan Wushi. When were they supposed to try?" She looked down at her tea in surprise and grimaced. Lukewarm.

Shen Qiao nodded. "And what about you?

"Oh, I haven't been in the places I was expected in either." She smirked. "Anyway, What are your plans? Are you planning to change anything about the political landscape?"

Shen Qiao hummed thoughtfully. "I liked the way it turned out last time. I was under the impression you did, too."

Bai Rong made a noncommittal sound. At Shen Qiao's sharp look, she just smiled. "Anything else?"

"Is that fair?" asked Shen Qiao. "You never tell me your plans."

Bai Rong just laughed and shrugged. "Oh, and have you heard from Chen Gong? I haven't seem him yet, and that worries me. If you weren't at the monastery, Chen Gong probably read the forgery, and since I put what I remember of the Solarity into it, he probably learned some martial arts again."

Shen Qiao shook his head. "If I wasn't at the monastery, it's likely he wasn't, either."

Bai Rong blinked in surprise. "Then who ...?"

Shen Qiao's eyes widened.

Bai Rong grimaced. "Well, now I did get an innocent bystander involved, despite all attempts ..."

"No," Shen Qiao said grimly. "Whoever read it, it was probably Yan Wushi's doing. Definitely not yours."

Bai Rong nodded, uncharacteristically subdued, before turning her head to the side, her eyes suddenly watchful.
Then, without a word, she disappeared out the window, gone between one blink and the next. Only the curtains still swaying a little gave away someone had been sitting across from him until just now.
Almost a full second later, Yan Wushi entered the room, took one step and froze. He breathed in through his nose, turned his head, breathed carefully again.
With only two steps, he crossed the room, leaned out the window, and looked to the right and to the left, but he came up empty.
Shen Qiao only raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"
Yan Wushi turned around. Against the light of the window, Shen Qiao's vision still wasn't good enough to make out his expression.
The silence stretched.
"I didn't know you favored that kind of floral perfume," he said silkily. "Say, before we leave, do we need to visit the local markets to find some for you?"

There was a threat in his tone, and Shen Qiao wished a little he could choose his next words better. But there was no compromising here.
"The wind must have carried in the scent of the blossoms outside," he said mildly. "I heard they're in season."

"How interesting," Yan Wushi said. "I could have sworn it was lotus, and there isn't a pond in sight."

Shen Qiao hummed unhelpfully.

"I suppose I'll have to be more watchful in the future," Yan Wushi said with a thin smile. "To make sure such exotic scents don't come near you again."

Shen Qiao smiled to himself with some private amusement. Oh no, he wants to spend more time with me. Whatever shall I do.

Then he said, "Before we go to Chang'an, we need to pay a visit to Moving Clouds Monastery."

Yan Wushi mustered him sharply. "Why?"

"... who exactly read the letter you showed me the first time?"

The portier watched their retreating backs and replayed their visit in his head.
One guy showed up, rented a room, and left.
The room was empty.
One other guy showed up in the morning, went upstairs, got some tea, went back up, and left again..
The room was, again, supposedly empty.
The room service went up to clean while nobody was there and found the first guy instead. Upon closing the door, female laughter could be heard from within.
The second guy came back. The two guys left hurriedly and without the woman.
The room was actually empty.

... ???

Upon closer inspection, this kind of clandestiny wasn't unheard of in an inn, and also, it was none of his business. But maybe he should get an exorcism anyway - he had heard of some strange nightly happenings over at the Commandery Prince's residence.

Chapter Text

When they arrived at moving clouds monastery, it was already too late.
Shen Qiao gently laid the little monk down on the ground and examined his injuries, but there was nothing to be done; Xiao Se had found him hours, if not days before them, and his interrogation had been as thorough as it had been cruel.
The life was draining from the little monk like water from a leaking ewer. Gently, Shen Qiao locked some of his acupoints to numb the pain, held his gaze, and settled down to wait until it was over.
When the ragged breaths had stopped and the eyes had unfocused and stilled, Shen Qiao gently closed the little monk's eyelids.
It was such a waste.
The young man had gotten wrapped up in some of the jianghu's loose ends through no fault of his own, and it had killed him slowly and painfully. And for what? Xiao Se had received some remembered snippets of the letter. Perhaps even some third-hand information about the solarity, if the little monk had read this far.

A whisper in the air told him Yan Wushi was approaching, just before a put-upon sigh reached his ears. "The lotus scent belongs to a paralyzing agent in form of a powder favored by at least half of Harmony Sect," he announced without fanfare. "Other than that, he didn't know anything useful."

When they had arrived to Xiao Se leaning over the little monk, Yan Wushi had wasted no time chasing him down to turn the tables and ask him a few pointed questions. The chase had gone on for eight hundred meters, so about three and a half seconds, and the subsequent questioning had been short.

"Then do you think it was him at our window earlier?" Shen Qiao said without looking up.

"He doesn't use it."

Yan Wushi stepped next to him and smiled at him. "Oh, and he did know one other thing."

Shen Qiao hummed noncommittally.

"A name. Bai Rong."

Shen Qiao's face remained unmoved. If he was honest, the surprise didn't really register. The majority of his head was still preoccupied with the still face below him.
After a few seconds, he said, "So you think that's your thief."
Yan Wushi took his time to answer, probably to see if he would squirm.
Shen Qiao couldn't find it in him to care.
There were tear tracks in the blood on the little monk's face.
"I'm going to bury him," Shen Qiao said suddenly, quietly.
Yan Wushi interrupted his begun sentence of, "No, she's not -" and began a new one. "Seriously? He's a stranger to you. You're going to lose hours of daylight for what? Pity?"

Shen Qiao said, "Yan-zongzhu. Surely you foresaw this outcome when you made him read it."
Yan Wushi shrugged unapologetically. "Of course. It would have been more convenient for them to fight over what he remembered than for them to only focus on me afterwards. Whether he lives or dies has nothing to do with me."

"Then," Shen Qiao said, "you also should have foreseen this delay." He rose to his feet. Already stepping away, he called over his shoulder, "The more you help, the faster we'll be."
He found the abbott dead in the entrance and closed his eyes for a second. A closer look around the monastery revealed the other two monks, however, who had hidden in the cellar when they had heard Xiao Se approach, so he agreed to leave the actual burials to them.
When he returned to Yan Wushi, the man was standing beside a fully dug grave and waiting.

On the road to Chang'an, Shen Qiao broke their silence. "Why do you even care so much about the Book of Free Will?"

It was a priceless cultivation treasure, coveted by tens of thousands of martial artists, so it would be a rather strange question in any other context.
Since Yan Wushi was Yan Wushi, however, he just shrugged. "I don't," he called over his shoulder. Being healthy, he walked at a quicker pace than Shen Qiao and left it to him to catch up.

Shen Qiao threw him a look that clearly said, could have fooled me.

Yan Wushi laughed and turned his eyes back to the road. Shen Qiao only heard his next words because the wind carried them back. "The thief, however ..."

A while later, Yan Wushi interrupted himself between one anecdote about the landscape Shen Qiao couldn't make out much of and the next, "I'm really curious why, if you insist you don't know the thief, you keep trying to protect him or her."

"Do I," Shen Qiao replied neutrally.

"You do."

"I don't know many people outside of Mount Xuandu," Shen Qiao said. "I was secluded there for most of my life. After my fall from Banbu Peak, you found me; from Funing County, I traveled straight back to Mount Xuandu. Where am I meant to have met this person?"

Yan Wushi opened his mouth, no doubt about to invent some far-fetched, terribly scandalous story about a star-crossed romance, so Shen Qiao waved him off. "Why exactly don't you think Xiao Se gave you the name of the thief?"

"Bai Rong doesn't have the guts to. Also, she lacks the deviousness."

Shen Qiao made an inquisitive noise.

Yan Wushi sighed. "Her martial arts aren't complete trash, with enough time and dedication she might shape up into a half-decent martial artist." Coming from Mr "just-so-so", this was quite the compliment. "Right now, however, she's nineteen. It's only recently that she became even a first rate martial artist, and she simply doesn't have the experience needed to pull off something like that. No, we're looking for someone older, someone used to thinking strategically, capable of keeping their calm under pressure and improvising on the fly." He shrugged. "I'll admit it's possible, but extremely unlikely."

Shen Qiao raised his eyebrows. "Improvised? What if someone else planned the heist and let their disciple execute it?"

Yan Wushi shook his head. "No, that heist was definitely improvised. I can tell."

"I suppose you would know."

When they neared Xiang Province's city, Shen Qiao politely, but firmly asserted he would be staying for a while, regardless of Yan Wushi's plans on the matter, claiming he had something to take care of in the crowd of refugees. Yan Wushi flippantly waved him off and pretended to leave.
Watching from a distance, he saw Shen Qiao wander through the crowd, seemingly looking for something or someone. Once or twice, he stopped to ask people some questions.

Late in the evening, he entered the city. He returned the second day, repeated the same process. Each time he returned, he was looking more worried.

On the third day, Yan Wushi grew bored and didn't bother watching him anymore. So naturally, the third day, Shen Qiao was attacked.

The trap was sprung on his way into the city; from one moment unto the next, the roofs around him were ringed with people, fighters in dark clothing, all of them masked.
Shen Qiao kept his calm and didn't reach for Shanhe Tongbei until the first one moved.
From then on, it was over quickly.

Shen Qiao arrived back at his inn, entirely unsurprised to find Yan Wushi there. Now that he thought about it, he had probably followed him around these last few days, just to see if Bai Rong would approach him again.
The thought made him tired.

Yan Wushi turned his gaze from the window and blinked.
"Why are you covered in blood?"

"Ambush," Shen Qiao said tonelessly, just standing in the doorway.

"What did they want?" Yan Wushi asked curiously.

"Who knows. They weren't talkative."

"Were they after you because of your description in the letter and assumed you knew something about the solarity?"

"I don't know."

With a tense shrug, Shen Qiao dropped Shanhe tongbei's leather strap from his shoulder to his elbow and put it down on the table with more force than necessary. The porcelain clattered.
He had nothing to do with his hands, the unrest, the fury, the worry, the sorrow burning under his skin. It had been a long time since he had last felt like this.
Yan Wushi laughed quietly in disbelief. "What has gotten into you all of a sudden? Don't tell me it was the ambush that shook you so badly. You must be used to people banding together to kill you by now."
Shen Qiao took a deep breath, straightening and holding his fingers firmly to the sides. Something hot and cold at once was bubbling up inside of him, and for once it wasn't blood from overexertion.
He turned on his heel to stride back out.

Within a heartbeat, Yan Wushi is there, blocking the door.

"Get out of my way," Shen Qiao said quietly.

Yan Wushi leaned closer. For once, Shen Qiao didn't lean away.

Yan Wushi tilted his head, feeling intrigued. Shen Qiao had come back in a mood that was entirely unlike himself.
There was a burning in his eyes Yan Wushi hadn't seen before.
Shen Qiao had, for once, the aura of a man who wasn't used to people standing in his way.
"No," Yan Wushi said, just to see what would happen.
For a moment, he thought Shen Qiao was going to strike him, or at least try. Then he whirled around, stalked over to the table with clipped, precise steps, and sat down in a motion that looked very controlled, before pinching the bridge of his nose.
His hand cast a shadow across most of his face, hiding his expression, but Shen Qiao audibly took a deep, shuddering breath.

Shen Qiao felt off-balance.
Shiwu was missing. He was missing and Shen Qiao had no idea what had gone wrong, no inkling what he had done that could have caused this. The boy was missing and, as a result, was likely going to die.
There were thousands of refugees outside the city gates. Yes, the chances had been slim, but he'd hoped -
He'd hoped -
Shen Qiao closed his eyes and let the feeling go.
Perhaps something had changed. Perhaps Shiwu had never made it to the city, perhaps something else had gone wrong, somewhere, perhaps they had missed each other in the crowd, three days in a row, and he was somewhere out there and starving slowly to death; perhaps, if fate was kind, someone somewhere else had taken pity on the child and had taken him in, and the family had chosen another direction to wander off without him, explaining their absence.

Fate, Shen Qiao had learned, was rarely kind.
But it did happen.

Still, whatever had happened to Shiwu, it had happened. The window of opportunity had closed, the time of their first meeting passed. Shen Qiao wouldn't find him here, couldn't pass on his food and advice to head to the temple. It was out of his hands.
He slowly lowered his hand, but his eyes remained closed. A bleak sense of acceptance settled over him. Whatever the outcome, Shen Qiao couldn't change it.
He breathed through the loss, slowly, and opened his eyes.
Yan Wushi was sitting across from him, his head cocked to the side and mustering him curiously.

"Didn't find what you were looking for?"

Mutely, Shen Qiao shook his head. He shifted on the bench so he was sitting astride on it and leaned back against the wall. It gave him the advantage of not having to look at Yan Wushi's quizzical expression.
He tipped his head back against the cool wood and closed his eyes.

"On the road here, you brought up you didn't have the chance to meet many people outside of Xuandushan," Yan Wushi said deceptively casually. "Who, exactly, were you looking for?"

Shen Qiao breathed out through his nose.
"A child," he said. "I haven't met him."
After a few seconds, he added, "Since he isn't here, it's likely he's dead."

Neither of them spoke for a while after that.

Yan Wushi definitely didn't care, but he seemed to have realized there was no point in pushing him this evening, which Shen Qiao felt grateful for as he settled down to meditate.
He spent the rest of the night in deep focus. If he cried at any point, Yan Wushi was at least tactful enough not to point it out.

Mt Xuandu, one and a half weeks ago

"That's horrible." Gu Hengbo's voice was flat. She was sitting at the table in her room, her head lowered.
"I know," Bai Rong said, making sure her voice held nothing but understanding and compassion instead of impatience. "It may be hard to believe, but -"

"No, it's not hard to believe." Gu Hengbo looked up, her eyes blazing. "That's what makes it so horrible. I knew Er-Shixiong wouldn't have lost to Kunye this badly unless something was very wrong, but I didn't expect them to use poison." She shook her head disbelievingly. "Mastery over one's Qi grants immunity against almost everything. What kind of martial artist uses poison?"

Bai Rong hid her surprise well. "The poison was a very rare one, specifically used to target cultivators. It directly attacks the foundations of someone's martial arts and usually destroys them completely, killing them."

In one smooth motion, Gu Hengbo rose to her feet. Her mouth was pressed into a firm line, her eyebrows drawn together like storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

"Gu-Niangzi ... ? What are you planning?" Bai Rong asked with some concern. Gu Hengbo absolutely looked like she was going to fight someone.

"I'm going to find that Kunye and show him what a disciple of Qi Fengge can do when they aren't dying of poison!"

For some reason, Bai Rong had expected any Shimei of Shen Qiao's to have a temper like him, mellow and slow to anger. She was suddenly regretting that.
"Gu-niangzi, Gu-niangzi," she said carefully, "Just because he couldn't beat Shen Qiao without cheating doesn't mean he's weak. He also has the protection of the entire Khaganate, and he has proven he doesn't fight fair."

If anything, the fire in Gu Hengbo's eyes burned brighter, but she remained in place. Thinking it over, she calmed herself somewhat. Sharply, her eyes slid back to Bai Rong. "Alright. I won't do anything rash."

Bai Rong smiled at her. "I'm glad."

"Then what do you think I should do?"

"Well, for one, there's something else you need to know," Bai Rong hedged. This was going to be a hard sell no matter how she turned it. "I spoke to Shen Qiao and -"
"He's alive?" Gu Hengbo interrupted her. "You've seen him?"

Bai Rong blinked at her in surprise. "He hasn't been here yet?"
Gu Hengbo groaned. "I should have known there was something off with that letter." She quickly went over her memories. "Oh, Yu-Shixiong is going to be so happy to find out!" Then she frowned and fell silent for a moment. "They were going to declare him dead in a few days, actually," she said quietly and looked up. "If he was here, why ... why didn't he tell us anything?"

Bai Rong delicately put her hands together, smoothing her voice out again. "That's the issue," she said as gently as she could. "You see, Kunye didn't put the poison into his tea himself. Do you know who would have had access to that?" Dead silence.
Bai Rong thought maybe she was being too subtle, so she pushed a little further. "Maybe someone who benefitted from Shen Qiao's disappearance?"
Gu Hengbo's face remained completely devoid of emotion a few more seconds. Then her face trembled once before smoothing out again.
Without warning, she suddenly whirled around, grabbed her sword and strode towards the door.

Bai Rong had to physically restrain her from kicking down Yu Ai's door and demanding satisfaction.
When they had managed to get back to the table, Bai Rong smoothed her palms against the wood. "I want Kunye and Yu Ai to pay," she said. "I want to tear them down. But your martial brothers made deals with the Tujue and accepted titles from them already. If we're not very careful, they're going to drag your entire sect down with them."

Gu Hengbo pursed her lips in displeasure, but inclined her head.

"Personally, I can imagine nothing worse for Yu Ai than Shen Qiao coming back from the dead to deal with him personally. And let's be honest, they both deserve it." She smiled, and Gu Hengbo's mouth reluctanty curved a little as well. "I have a plan to ruin Kunye's reputation, his plans for Mt Xuandu, and the approaching invasion of the central plains." She leaned closer conspirationally. "So what do you say? Are you in?"

A few hours later, Gu Hengbo set down the Book of Free Will and rubbed her eyes. Characters were dancing behind her closed lids. "Thank you for showing this to me," she felt like she hadn't understood a single word of what she had read, but she knew enough to value the chance she was getting. "What are you going to do with this after you leave here?"

"Oh, I'm giving half of it to my Shizun," Bai Rong said, still poring over a map.

Gu Hengbo blinked. Her brain was moving sluggishly after hours of listening to Bai Rong detail her plan and then reading one of the most horribly abstract texts she had ever encountered. "Half?"

Without looking up, Bai Rong smirked. The candlelight cast her face in golden glow and harsh shadow. She was beautiful in the same way as a poisonous spider in a web, Gu Hengbo thought. A second later she found the thought rather strange.
"The other one," Bai Rong visibly enjoyed every word, "goes to Yuan-Zongzhu."

Gu Hengbo blinked again, taking a second to process the implications. She had only a vague understanding of which secrets the book held, but she understood how much power it could offer if used correctly. "They ... they are going to kill each other over this."

"It's so nice you catch on quickly."

Chapter Text

Xiao Se found her, because of course he did.
It was nice to see his terrible personality wasn't something she had conjured up years later.

He spent very little time on greetings before saying, "Yan Wushi asked for you, shimei. Don't tell me you're in trouble?" with a really unpleasant, hungry smile. Harmony sect was a pack of hyenas, and this one was licking its gums.

It was strange. Once, he had been an immense presence in her life, an immovable obstacle she had had to constantly brace against so it didn't crush her, and looking back, she had likely been the same to him - like two halves of a stone arch, holding each other up and locking themselves in place.
Now she looked at his steps as he approached and had to suppress the impulse to say, your balance is off, keep your center of mass lower and your weight more on the balls of your feet.
It was a bad impulse. He wasn't one of her students, even if they were the same age.

Bai Rong smiled and said, "Me? How could someone as untalented as me draw the attention of someone so famous?" but she didn't move from where she was standing. Xiao Se circled closer.

"I heard something rare and precious disappeared right in front of him recently. Is it possible that's why he's looking for you?"

Shen Qiao had mentioned once to her Tao Hongjing had written the solarity and then hidden the books because he was afraid the jianghu would tear itself to pieces over it. Bai Rong looked at Xiao Se's expression and thought she understood what he'd seen, but if she was honest, that was just what martial artists were like. If not over the book, they would tear each other to pieces over something else; Shizun's approval, a different technique, a rare plant or poison, power and influence.

She blinked and realized Xiao Se had advanced further, talking all the while.
He was in striking range.
Bai Rong blocked his palm strike even as she gathered her new and solarity-improved qi around herself, reminded herself this had to look like a fight, and struck.

She stayed long enough to make sure the body was found by the correct person - a disciple of Yuan Xiuxiu's, minor enough that she'd forgotten his name, still young and small-ambitioned enough that he would hand over the book to his Shizun to gain favor instead of trying to ferret out some small advantage by concealing it. (She had had to lure him over by throwing small stones into the bushes several times. It had been tedious. How could one single disciple be so uncurious?) He'd better appreciate all the hard work she was putting in, it was basically going towards his next promotion!

"This unworthy disciple apologizes for her delay," Bai Rong said a few days of travel later, her hands held out and her head lowered. "After I managed to obtain the scroll, I was forced to hide from the other martial artists, and didn't dare come out for a long time."
Bai Rong pursed her lips and handed over the second half of the solarity, the deep bow conveniently hiding her expression. "When I did, Xiao-Shixiong ... convinced me that it would be more prudent to share it, in case one of us got caught."
Her Shizun's long, cool fingers plucked the incomplete set of bamboo slips from her hands and glanced through them. The material whispered where the thin sheets brushed each other. She knew he could hear the implication: He tried to steal my credit and I wasn't strong enough to stop him completely.
"I see," her Shizun said. It sounded amused, for now; he had always liked pitting his followers against each other. It kept them from turning against him.
Still, the amusement couldn't conceal the bone-deep hunger beneath his words. This? This was a feast for him.
She had forgotten, in the years since she had killed him, how cruel his eyes were, how poisonous his words. How deep her ambition had burned. Why the taste of revenge had been so sweet as it ran down her throat, splattered down the front of her robes, coated her fingernails.

"Report to the quarter master you're back and take a room. Your training recommences tomorrow."

She felt his eyes burn into her, together with his stupid, insipid, ugly, badly faked smile. Bai Rong pressed her molars together and smiled, eyes downcast. She also disliked how easy it was to slip into this, the relief that came rushing through her as it became clear she was escaping a punishment this time.

"See to it you aren't late again."

The doors closed behind her. She didn't straighten up, didn't inhale deeply, didn't show any sign she had been in discomfort, just like she wouldn't have back then.
She had forgotten what feeling powerless was like. She didn't appreciate the reminder.

Then again, she found she really enjoyed lying to her Shizun. Especially when it was his life at stake instead of hers.

After a particularly harrowing fight and subsequent blackout, Shen Qiao woke in a carriage with a sense of foreboding, as if a large shadow was leaning over him.
Ah, no. That was just Yan Wushi.
Shen Qiao made a sleepy sound and shadowed his eyes with one hand.
"Is it time to get out?" he asked, still somewhat groggy.
They looked at each other for a second while Shen Qiao's sleep-muddled brain was still trying to catch up.
Then the shadow suddenly smirked.
Shen Qiao tensed and hurried to get to his feet. "Don't you d-"

Without batting an eyelash, Yan Wushi sweeped him up and settled him in his arms.

Still carrying a fuming Shen Qiao, Yan Wushi let himself be led around in the courtyard he had rented, appearing to be listening raptly to the tour of the rooms, the comfortable beds, the quality of the potted bonsai, the spring scenery and the view, as the attendant talked, and talked, and talked.
After almost fifteen minutes, the attendant finally took a break. "Sir, is your traveling companion alright?"

Yan Wushi pretended nothing was out of the ordinary and played dumb. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, for starters, he hasn't moved in a while."

Yan Wushi looked down and found Shen Qiao had fallen back asleep against his shoulder.

Shen Qiao woke by being rudely dropped back to his feet. He hastily grappled with his coordination to manage the tasks of cushioning the fall, keeping his balance and straightening up again in the correct order and blearily rubbed the sleep from his eyes. A look around revealed the attendant had left - finally, Shen Qiao really hadn't seen any reason to put himself through any more of that while conscious - and Yan Wushi was striding off doing ... something.
Oh, was someone mad at him for sleeping through being paraded around to annoy him? He was so sorry.
... on second thought, he probably would be soon.

He was maybe a little bit sorry, he decided as Yan Wushi insisted on hand-feeding him every single bite of their dinner. Slightly.
"Come on, just one more bite," Yan Wushi coaxed with the most sincerely worried eyebrows in the history of the world. "Look at you, you're wasting away. What am I meant to do with you when you're only skin and bones?"
Perhaps a little bit more than slightly sorry. It had been fifteen minutes and most of the room still periodically returned to staring at them.
The rest had never stopped.

Shen Qiao drew his head back and to the side to critically eye the bite Yan Wushi was holding out. He made the rookie mistake of trying to talk and giving an opening.
"Mph!" he said frustratedly and chewed on the overly large bite behind a politely raised hand before swallowing. Still secure behind the guard of his hand, he said, "I'm not overly fond of okrah!"
"Oh, well if that's the case," Yan Wushi said, probably remembering their conversation about food waste. "We'll just leave it then." They had come out of a famine stricken warzone a scant few days ago.
One corner of Shen Qiao's mouth twitched in irritation. He reached for his chopsticks.
"Ah," admonished Yan Wushi and lifted his own chopsticks with the okrah again, challenging smile audible. "Indulge me."

Shen Qiao gave him a narrow-eyed look.

Yan Wushi smiled and leaned closer. "Can't have you fainting on me in public again, can I? People will think I don't take care of you."
For half a second, Shen Qiao considered acting like a jilted housewife, just to try and embarrass him back. The thought fled as quickly as he had come, however: there were fights one had a chance of winning, and then there was getting into a contest over who had the thickest face with Yan Wushi.
The food isn't the issue. You just need to be less rough with me, is all! I'm still sore all over from last night, can't you be a little more considerate? while funny 'cause true, also fell into this category. Escalating was not in his best interests here.

"... not to mention that the Great Chen isn't easy pickings. If Yuwen Yong wants to send his troops into Chen, it won't just happen because he says so ..."

Shen Qiao's attention snapped across the room. Ah, Ruyan Kehui's star pupil. Doing his level best to stay inconspicuous. Or, in other words, being the only thing out of place enough to draw attention away from Yan Wushi's antics and Shen Qiao.

"What was the name of Ruyan Kehui's favorite student again?" Shen Qiao asked while the discussion in the room turned to other topics.
"Xie Xiang," said Yan "eh, do I know you?" Wushi without missing a beat. Internally, Shen Qiao fondly rolled his eyes. "Why?"

Shen Qiao didn't take the bait. "No real reason. Just, if he's here already, we might as well invite him to sit with us."

Yan Wushi's eyes slid from Shen Qiao to the far corner and back with a calculating gaze. Then he shrugged lazily. "This venerable one doesn't care either way. If you want to invite him over, do it. If not, don't."

Linchuan Institute hadn't been openly involved in the fight for the Book of Free Will, just like Harmony Sect. Because of the letter, Harmony Sect were still the prime suspects, but since he did it so rarely, anyone Shen Qiao was going out of his way to interact with was nonetheless an object of interest.

Shen Qiao nodded and rose to his feet. His vision was still blurry, but it wasn't pitch black anymore. With the aid of his hearing and his bamboo cane, he could navigate well enough to make it across the room without bumping into any of the other tables or the waiters if he went slowly enough.

Xie Xiang raised his head as he approached and mustered him. Of course he had seen the debacle earlier, but Shen Qiao's bearing right now was quite different than then. He didn't show any of the subservience expected of a kept man towards a prominent disciple of a large sect. It made him a little uneasy.

Shen Qiao politely cupped his hands at him and greeted him by name. "This one's family name is Shen. May we invite your esteemed self over to sit with us?"

Xie Xiang looked over at Yan Wushi, the man he had come to fight. It was something of a slight he had sent his (?)lover(?) over instead of coming himself. But then again, the other man was older and of higher rank. He felt a little flattered to have been recognized and acknowledged.

So he nodded, accepted the invitation, and rose to his feet.

Chapter Text

[Beginning of a video recording. Two interviews are edited together so the questions alternate between Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi.]

Author: Thank you for coming.

YWS: At least you have good taste for inviting this venerable one.

SQ: I'm glad to be here.

A: Tea?
SQ: No, thank you.
YWS: No. Get to the point.

A: Alright, alright ... *shuffles interview questions*
Yan-zongzhu, what is your current view of Shen Qiao?
YWS: That he's soft-hearted to the point of naivete, and also somehow involved in every single plot going on in the jianghu right now. Nothing he says or does makes sense, he didn't take any of the chances I pretended to give him to stab me in the back, he's lying through his teeth about the solarity, and I have no idea what he wants at any point, ever. It's surprisingly easy to rile him up, but sometimes his reactions are completely different than I think they're going to be.

A: Shen-Daozhang, what's your current view of Yan Wushi?
SQ: Huh? He's just the same as he was last time, right? I'm just glad we get to spend some time together.

A: What do you think he answered that question with?
SQ: That's easy. He probably said that I'm soft-hearted and naive.
YWS: He's probably really grateful for this venerable one's company. Or at least, he'd better be.
A: (They really know each other well, ah ...)

A: Yan-Zongzhu, what are your theories about the dead loved one Shen Qiao keeps talking about?
YWS: I don't believe a word of what he's saying.
A: Why is that?
YWS: In the entire world, between heaven and earth, there is not a single person that could compare to this venerable one. The idea I could remind him of someone else is ludicrous.
A: Then what's the reason behind him dragging you to bed that one morning?
YWS: Naturally, it's this venerable one's dashing good looks.
A: (Speechless. I think that since Shen Qiao only wanted to cuddle, his sex appeal can't be all that, but after some deliberation, I don't point it out. I'm attached to my life.)

YWS: What are you writing?
A:

A: Shen-Daozhang, do you think you're being too open about being a time-traveller? You're not exactly trying very hard to hide it.
SQ: Why should I? It's not like it's a crime. What others think of my behavior is their business.
A: A standard question is also usually if you're planning on telling your loved ones. Have you ever thought about telling Yan Wushi about it?
(Pause. Then he actually laughs.)
SQ: Author, you shouldn't tease like that.
A: ...
SQ, chuckling: Just imagine. "I'm from the future. We went through a lot of trouble together, you stabbed me in the back a few times, I saved your life back, and then you completely changed your mind about romance, kindness, and me in particular and launched into the most aggressive 5D chess courtship the world has seen since the beginning of time, tricked me into proposing, and then said yes." I can't imagine that going over well.
A: You have a point there.

A: Do either of you care to know about the figures in black?
SQ: Not really. They weren't particularly interesting.
YWS: Who?

Chapter Text

Xie Xiang was sitting at a table with one of the greatest men of the jianghu and bitterly regretting his life choices.
Unbeknownst to him, this was a feeling Yan Wushi evoked regularly, so it didn't make him special at all. It was lucky he didn't know, in any case; as his academy's star pupil, not being special wasn't a feeling he was used to.

"I'm on a leisurely journey with my A-Qiao, of course," was Yan Wushi's answer to the polite question what had brought them here. A-Qiao, family name Shen ... the combination rang a bell somewhere, but Xie Xiang couldn't place it. It probably wasn't that important.

"Sect Leader Yan jests, of course," Shen Qiao said with a critical look at the man in question. Who's YOUR A-Qiao, hm? This trip is solely because of YOUR political ambitions, don't make it sound like some kind of shared vacation! "We merely both have business to attend to in the north, so we're traveling together for now."

Xie Xiang opened his mouth to answer, but didn't get far.

"You have business up north?" Yan Wushi asked, his face supported by his left hand. "Why is this the first I'm hearing of it?"

"Perhaps you would, had you bothered to ask," replied Shen Qiao.

"Oh," Yan Wushi said with a dangerous glint in his eyes, "I'll remember that."

Shen Qiao sighed and turned back to their guest and smoothed out his expression from annoyed to polite interest. "May I ask what brings you here? You're quite far from Chen."

"About that. Sect Leader Yan-"

"Ah-Qiao, you didn't finish your pickled vegetables earlier," Yan Wushi said, honey-sweet.

I'm right here, Xie Xiang thought. Surely, they aren't going to -

They were. With a long-suffering expression, Shen Qiao accepted the bite of pickled radish from Sect Leader Yan's chopsticks. Chewing and swallowing, he held out a hand to stop Yan Wushi from picking up another piece and threw him an unreadable look.

"Xie Xiang, how is your Shizun faring? Well, I hope?"
Xie Xiang appreciated his attempts at conversation, he really did, but he couldn't help but wish the man would stop making Yan Wushi throw him these looks from the corner of his eye. His heart started racing every time.
"He's doing well, and recently exited seclusion. Speaking of which -"

"You should try some more of the fried duck skin, it's excellent," Yan Wushi interrupted him again and maneuvered a piece of it towards Shen Qiao.

Xie Xiang forced himself to keep talking despite the absolutely bizarre lack of manners and public decency.

"Seeing as Sect Leader Yan has also recently come out of seclusion, it would be appreciated -"

"Oh, how clumsy of me," Yan Wushi said and put his chopsticks down. He hadn't been careful enough and had left a smear on the side of Shen Qiao's mouth.
Shen Qiao had reached for his napkin, but Yan Wushi was quicker and held it out. "Here, let me."

Xie Xiang trailed off. He knew he was staring, but couldn't help it. Shen Qiao didn't look happy about it, but he let Yan Wushi tilt his head to the side and dab his mouth clean. Shen Qiao endured it for another few seconds and then batted Yan Wushi's hands away.

"Sect Leader Yan, please let him finish. Where are your manners?"

Xie Xiang felt a little relieved - at least someone else felt Yan Wushi was acting strange. "Thank -"

"How can you ask where my manners are?" Yan Wushi spoke right over him. "When you were the one who invited this random stranger over, too. Is this venerable one not enough for you?"

Shen Qiao pressed his lips together. When he opened his mouth, he just said one word. "Ridiculous." You were the one who said it was fine!

"My Ah-Qiao is so cruel to me," Yan Wushi lamented. "I get no attention at all. I show you so much care, yet your eyes keep straying to other people."

Shen Qiao found himself speechless. Maybe if you showed me a little less care, I could interact with you properly.
Instead of responding, he focused back on Xie Xiang. "How is your training going?"

Xie Xiang instinctively leaned back a little and wished himself somewhere out of the room, preferably two borders away.

"And what is this?" Yan Wushi demanded. "You never ask about how my students' training is going." Shen Qiao internally sighed and determined not to say another word until Yan Wushi was done with whatever this was. "What has he done that deserves your attention that Yu Shengyan or Bian Yanmei haven't? Both of them could beat him with one hand behind their back."

Yu Shengyan could, probably, Shen Qiao thought. Bian Yanmei definitely couldn't.

True or not, it was still a heavy insult.
Finally at his limit, Xie Xiang slammed down his chopsticks. "My Shizun asks to receive your guidance on the fifth of May in Chang'an, if your venerable self is amenable," he said, fuming. "However, this humble one would like to request some pointers from you, today and here!"

This declaration was met with more silence, as Shen Qiao eyed Yan Wushi, who took his time rifling through another one of the platters with his chopsticks.

"I'm sure he would be happy to provide guidance to such a talented junior," Shen Qiao said a little pointedly.
Yan Wushi looked at him and held out another bite of something.

While Xie Xiang waited impatiently for an answer, they exchanged glances, which seemed odd to him. The other man was almost blind, right?
Shen Qiao's eyes narrowed, Yan Wushi's smile widened, and Shen Qiao accepted the bite.

Yan Wushi sighed and brushed off his chopsticks on the edge of his bowl. "It really is good you have me to look after you," he said, still not addressing Xie Xiang. "What would you do on your own? Starve to death?"
With those words, he tried to pour tea into Shen Qiao's cup, who quickly tried to move it away and failed.
Yan Wushi looked at him with the kind of half-coaxing, half-chiding look one would use on a particularly stubborn child. "Ah-Qiao," he said reproachfully while he poured him a cup of tea. His tone said: Come on, don't be unreasonable.

To Xie Xiang, it seemed like this person enjoyed a great deal of favor from Yan Wushi. Shen Qiao however could hear the mockery beneath the thin veneer of exaggerated care, and if he was honest with himself, the last drops of his patience had just evaporated with a devilish hiss.

"Ling-er," he replied in the exact same tone.

Internally, Shen Qiao felt himself freeze. There was no telling how Yan Wushi was going to react to that.

For a moment, the situation was completely still - Shen Qiao didn't move, Xie Xiang didn't even dare to breathe, and Yan Wushi was just sitting there, tea pouring into his cup until it was almost overflowing. Then he elegantly tilted the pot back again and set it down.

Instead of saying anything about their little standoff just now, he spoke to Xie Xiang directly for the first time, even though he didn't bother facing him to look at him properly. "This venerable one isn't currently interested in a duel with you. Give it a decade or five, and you might become a challenge, but currently you're not worth my attention."

Xie Xiang was also at his limit, so he snapped: "Oh, but he is?"

"Of course not," said Shen Qiao ironically. "Didn't you hear him? He just makes sure I don't starve to death when he's not looking. If there's anyone between heaven and earth good enough to be his equal, he hasn't found them yet."

Yan Wushi made sure not to show anything on his face, but he was surprised. For one, that was astronomical praise coming from someone in the jianghu; but more so, in all the time he had spent messing with Shen Qiao, he had never seen him display even a hint of bitterness. Perhaps pushing the button of the man's diminished martial arts was something he should do more often, then.
He couldn't know Xie Xiang had unwittingly found one of the few sore spots Shen Qiao had towards the current, pre-Sang-Jingxing version of Yan Wushi.

"Now that I think about it," said Yan Wushi. "You two should fight, and whoever emerges victorious gets to fight me afterwards."

"Can I just forfeit now and save us the trouble?" asked Shen Qiao warily.

"No."

Shen Qiao sighed.

"I can't believe you're insulting me by making me fight this - this kept man of yours," Xie Xiang said, still furious.

Yan Wushi smirked without looking at him. "Oh? If you aren't even confident you can beat him, maybe you should just hand in your weapon and become a farmer. I heard a village in the back end of southern Chen is missing its idiot."

Speechless with rage, Xie Xiang turned completely red.

"Come now," Shen Qiao said with gentle admonishment. "Can't you just be glad some young blood is coming to us old people for guidance?"

Lowering his cup, Yan Wushi said coldly, "Us old people? You're more than a decade my junior, and if anything, he's coming for guidance from me, not you."

Shen Qiao's eyes took on a certain glint, like someone who knows they are poking a sleeping dragon and will do it anyways. "Alright, I misspoke. Can't you be glad some young blood is coming to you old man for guidance?"

At once, the temperature on the table plummeted.

"Why don't you two go outside and have your duel now," Yan Wushi said pleasantly after a moment of tense silence. "Like I said, the winner gets to fight me afterwards."

Xie Xiang didn't think much; he took the chance to get to his feet and out of the room.

Shen Qiao wiped the floor with him. If Xie Xiang was honest with himself, the man had probably even held back a little to be gentler with him and his pride, but it still was a towering loss.

"I am not your match," he pressed out between clenched teeth. The last blow had knocked the wind out of him, making his voice thin and reedy. He hoped he hadn't sustained any broken ribs; those were a pain to deal with. The knowledge of how much worse it could have been chilled his bones. Unlike this mysterious stranger, Yan Wushi was known to never pull a punch.

From behind him, a voice said: "And, as promised, here's your fight."
Shen-Qianbei's face took on a look of annoyed resignation. It seemed to say, really? We're doing this here?
Then he moved forwards with incredible speed.
Before he knew what had happened, Xie Xiang was lying on the side of the road, his ears ringing from the force of a blow that had narrowly missed his head.
Shen-Qianbei must have shoved him out of the way, he concluded as he watched the two fighters descend on each other like hawks, Yan Wushi advancing viciously and Shen-Qianbei retreating and dodging. The roiling qi sent waves through the trees around them and shook the branches like a tempest.
Trembling, he pulled himself up during a moment of reprieve and threw himself behind a particularly sturdy trunk. Not a moment too late, as one instant later a thousand sharp stone splinters embedded themselves in the bark and whistled past him.
Normally, a fight between two strong martial artists was a valuable learning opportunity.
However, Xie Xiang had gotten a considerably better idea of his limits in the last ten minutes. He waited for a good moment and got the hell out of dodge.

As far as Yan Wushi and Shen Qiao were concerned, it was a routine fight. The main difference was that, since Shen Qiao had had to push Xie Xiang out of the way, he had lost time for his first block, and he was lagging behind by that split-second from the beginning. Yan Wushi gave him no time to recover it; he had gotten used to Shen Qiao's strangely attuned fighting style and made sure to come up with unfamiliar moves on the spot, making him even harder to predict than usual. Widening the crack in Shen Qiao's defenses was basically textbook - during a particularly fast sequence of strikes, the setback from the start caught up to Shen Qiao and allowed Yan Wushi to rip his feet out under him. Once again, Shen Qiao found himself slammed into a tree with Yan Wushi leaning close to him.
Next to his ear, he heard Yan Wushi growl, "Alright." The grip on his robes tightened and lifted him to the tip of his toes, making him wince. "Now tell me, where do you know that name from?"
It was a demand backed by the full force of demonic persuasion, this time not bothering with subtlety or gentleness. It was an attack just as forceful as a palm strike, just of a different kind. Shen Qiao's head rang like a bronze bell struck with a hammer on New Year's Eve, making him close his eyes from the pain.

Yan Wushi repeated the question, knowing that each iteration strengthened the suggestion.

After a pause, Shen Qiao only murmured: "Aren't you tired of that old trick yet?"

The suspect avoided further questioning by passing out again.

Inconvenient.

Shen Qiao woke up and took stock of his injuries. If he was honest with himself, he wished he could say that a little less often. His vision had worsened again, but it wasn't completely dark. Some of the tendons the fall from Banbu peak had snapped still twinged, but as far as his circulation went - both blood and qi - he had finally arrived at the same level as before.
That being fine, he focused back on the menace who was none too gently shaking his shoulder.
"Come on, we're going for a walk," the menace said. Mercurial as ever, their entire conflict from the day before ha left no traces on his behavior at all; anyone who looked at them would think they were good friends or more, looking forward to spend a day together.
Wary of getting swept up and carried around again, Shen Qiao swung his legs over the edge of the bed and straightened up. There, he rubbed his face tiredly. "Why?" he asked, voice muffled by his hands. "And where?" He was usually a morning person, he really was. Unfortunately, Yan Wushi regularly tired him out and averaged as many hours of sleep as a squirrel on espresso. For a martial artist, that man had horrible sleeping habits.

"Outside," Yan Wushi said cheerfully. "The blooming flowers here are amazing. If anything, you should thank me for dragging you out of your dreary room."

"You mean for taking me to look at the blooming flowers I can't see?" Shen Qiao asked drily.

A moment of annoyed silence. Then Yan Wushi said airily: "You didn't damage your nose as well, or did you?"

Shen Qiao let himself be dragged outside. When he was sure Yan Wushi wouldn't see it, he gave the man's turned back a fond smile.
When he was awake enough to appreciate it, he really enjoyed that in some ways, his husband would never change.

Chapter Text

Predictably, he blinked at the wrong moment and was suddenly left alone in a crowd of strangers, with Yan Wushi not answering when he called for him, either out of hearing range or out of patience.
Shen Qiao slowed his steps and was immediately swallowed up in the swirls and eddies of the crowd, the rushed people hurrying around him, drifting like leaves on a stream.
Perhaps he should go back to the inn - his sense of direction had improved much over the years, he thought with the noise of the streets and the vague outline of the walls it wouldn't take him too long.
Then, of course, Bai Rong dropped down from a roof onto the streets, and he had other things to worry about.

It wasn't like them to find a restaurant and sit together - strange as well for a young man and woman neither married nor engaged - so Shen Qiao was surprised when Bai Rong tugged them into a tea shop, ordered and turned to him. "Shen-lang, we need to talk," she said.

Shen Qiao found he didn't like the sound of that at all.

"Apparently, the Tujue are planning on crashing a birthday banquet for the sake of some ring ...?"

"Ah," Shen Qiao said.

"So you remember something about it. What's the meaning of this ring?"

"If Hulugu gets it, he has the right to summon the Khaganate to war."

"Okay, so it's better for us if he doesn't get it."

"Not sure how much of a difference it makes in practice and how much was just a power move to intimidate the central plains. But yes. Overall, definitely."

"Well, okay then," Bai Rong said, swinging her feet slightly. "Do you plan on being in attendance?"

"We'll see," Shen Qiao said evasively. It wasn't a given Yan Wushi would see fit to send him to the banquet again, and he himself wasn't going to be invited.

"I also heard a certain member of your sect recently turned up dead and nobody knows who did it." He hadn't, but he was curious how she would react. "You wouldn't have had anything to do with that?"

Bai Rong comically widened her eyes and blinked innocently a few times. "Whaaat?"

So that was a yes to both.

"Why did you never even consider me?" Bai Rong's posture was still casual, but her eyes were tracking his movements carefully.
Shen Qiao looked at her in surprise. She smiled a little tiredly and said, "Looking back, it was probably better that way. But I still want to know why you brushed me off so completely."

Shen Qiao sighed and looked out of the window. After a while, he said, "I thought that after all you had been through, you might be better off without any men who were in your life in that capacity, at least for a few years."

"It wasn't just men," Bai Rong said quietly, but seemed to be thinking.

They were silent while Bai Rong mulled over his words. Then she nodded decisively.

Curiously, Shen Qiao asked, "You agree?"

"I was looking for something I wouldn't have found with you, I think," she said.

They were silent for some more time while they finished their tea.

"Did you find it?" Shen Qiao finally asked.

Bai Rong was still looking out of the window without seeing anything, but her eyes curved into happy little half-moons at the question.
If Shen Qiao was more aware of these things, he would have felt the jealous gazes of at least three people burn into his back.

"I like to think so," she said, looking back at him with the smile still in her eyes. "Turning that place inside out and making it mine certainly helped."
Shen Qiao found himself smiling back and raised his cup in a toast. Bai Rong toasted back.
"My students were - and are going to be - wonderful too, of course," Bai Rong added after another sip.
Then she mustered him. "Something wrong?"

"Shiwu is missing," Shen Qiao said quietly.
Bai Rong, being helpful, offered to keep an eye out for him. She even promised to barely try to steal him for herself, managing a small smile from Shen Qiao.

Somehow, they ended up talking about his love life.
"He doesn't even like me as a person at this point," Shen Qiao said, trying for dismissive and hitting closer to self-deprecating.

"Can't speak to that," said Bai Rong. "Well, probably, you're right. He definitely thinks you're attractive, though."

Shen Qiao fought the urge to hide his warm face in his hands and groan.

"I can only be myself and hope for the best. Either he's going to come around or not, that's outside of my control."

"How very reasonable of you," remarked Bai Rong. Shen Qiao estimated she was only about sixty percent teasing. "I think you're right not to worry too much; he got horribly jealous about anyone talking to you really early on, last timeline as well."

Shen Qiao frowned a little. "Are you sure? I don't remember any occasion where ..."

Bai Rong didn't choke on her tea, but she did take an extra moment to stare somewhere far away before she swallowed. "Shen-lang," she said and patted his hand, "Trust me."

Shen Qiao found this a little strange, but shrugged it off. "In any case, it's not enough if he just finds me ..."

"Really, really pretty?" Bai Rong asked, grinning.

"... that's no basis for a relationship."

Bai Rong raised both of her eyebrows and opened her mouth to object.

"Character is far more important than looks," Shen Qiao foubd himself arguing a few minutes later. "If a person's character is unlikable, no amount of good looks in the world can matter enough to make up for it. Just look at your Shizun ..."

Bai Rong, who had been looking ready to object up until now, grimaced before she spoke.
"They shouldn't be completely lacking either, though," she said. "For example, don't you think Yan-Zongzhu is handsome?"

"Every time I see him," Shen Qiao replied. Bai Rong eyed him expectantly.

"Unfortunately, then he usually starts talking."
Bai Rong broke into peals of laughter.

"Ah-Qiao," Yan Wushi said pleasantly from behind him. Both of them froze. Bai Rong's face was caught between horror and absolute delight before she got her act together. "I had no idea you had any more friends in the area. Is this one of the old friends you had on Mount Xuandu, or one of the new friends you didn't have time to make since then?"
Or, in other words: Your story has holes one could ride a horse through.

"Yan-Zongzhu needn't be so suspicious," Bai Rong said with a smile and tilt of her head that showed off every hair's breadth of charm she possessed. "We merely met on the road earlier and took the time to catch up."
Unlike last time, Bai Rong wasn't showing any hint she wanted to flee, which Shen Qiao found interesting.
That meant she thought she had improved enough that she could still get away if Yan Wushi decided to attack and pursue her. Which. Wow.
Yan Wushi looked like he was seriously considering to prove or disprove that hypothesis on the spot, so Shen Qiao cleared his throat and motioned towards the third side of the table. "Please, come sit with us. Since I'm fond of both of you," he shot a warning look to Bai Rong too for good measure, "it would mean a lot to me if you got along."

After a tense silence, Yan Wushi settled at the third side of the table.
"How did you even meet our Ah-Qiao?" he asked, the picture of a considerate friend/lover. Trap. Trap, trap, trap! chanted a voice in Shen Qiao's head.

"Oh," Bai Rong said sweetly, "He read my palm in that city in Funing County."

"Really?" Shen Qiao couldn't help poking fun at her a little. "I don't remember anymore, what did I tell you?"

Mustering Yan Wushi from the corner of her eye, Bai Rong said with a wicked smile, "That I should read more."

Shen Qiao spontaneously decided he was going to look for a waiter to ask for more tea. These two could handle themselves.

After he had left, Yan Wushi said, "Of all the sects who fought for the book of free will, Harmony Sect was the one I expected to be there but wasn't. Did you fail to make it in time?"

Bai Rong smiled politely. "My Shixiong, Xiao Se, was in the area that day."

Internally, Yan Wushi was analyzing every minute detail of the concersation. Had Bai Rong been flirting with Shen Qiao and if yes, did it match the tone of the letter? He was immune to Demonic Persuasion, which implied repeated exposure. Could that have been her? How likely was it they really had met in Funing District?

Outwardly, Yan Wushi said, "Yes, I've spoken to him there. He mentioned you had been nearby as well."

"Passing through." Bai Rong tilted her head coquettishly. Yan Wushi's eyes glinted dangerously. The gossip in this tea house was going to be insane for the next three weeks.

Bai Rong tapped her cheek thoughtfully. "Well, Xiao-Shixiong is officially still Yuan-Zongzhu's disciple, even if he spends a lot of time with me and Shizun's other students. Have you fought her recently?" It really is a shame he talked before I could kill him. Do you know he's dead yet?

"As a matter of fact, I did," Yan Wushi said. "It's just a shame she doesn't seem to have improved at all. Harmony Sect really is on the decline."

Bai Rong blinked in surprise. She thought: He must have fought her before I got to her. How quickly did he travel? He's being very efficient about this.

Yan Wushi saw her thinking and drew his own conclusions. Her surprise was interesting; that meant she had expected Yuan Xiuxiu to have gotten the solarity somehow, and been wrong about it. Bad intel? Had she really suspected Xiao Se? Was she also following the solarity's trail to Shen Qiao, or was she involved herself?

She quickly hid behind another smile. "And what about my Shizun?"

"I haven't tested him yet," Yan Wushi said with a menacing smile. "From how confident you act, though, one could think you improved a lot yourself recently." The brat had had the audacity to play host to him, when a few months ago his mere name would have sent an entire group of Bai Rongs running for the hills.

She shifted in place coyly and beamed.
"It's too kind of you to say so! I have, and it's mostly thanks to Shen-lang."

Yan Wushi continued to stare at her with a pleasant expression, while what went through his head was something like: There is no way you two actually dual cultivated together.

Bai Rong held his gaze without flinching and let her smile widen into a smirk. She leaned forward and delicately held her hand next to her mouth to suggest discretion. "If Sect Leader Yan would like to know ..."

In this moment, Shen Qiao returned to the table and set down another round of beverages. He mustered their expressions distrustfully. "What are you two talking about?"

Without taking his eyes off Bai Rong, Yan Wushi said, "This woman has the most interesting stories about you. Who would have thought such a respected daoist master would condescend to do these kinds of things with a disciple from a demonic sect?"

Bai Rong coughed. She was thinking of Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi's long, sometimes very public, ongoing torrid love affair.

Opening his mouth but remaining speechless, Shen Qiao turned from Yan Wushi to Bai Rong, who straightened up again. To Shen Qiao, she said with a far more casual expression: "I told you, he's definitely jealous."

Shen Qiao looked from one face to the other and back before sighing and setting down the tray.
"I take back what I said earlier," he said.

Bai Rong widened her eyes innocently. "What would that be?"

"Go back to killing each other, I don't care."

"Hey!"

He was about to leave, so Yan Wushi quickly snatched his sleeve to stop him.

Sweetly, Bai Rong called, "You're so cold, Shen-lang. I'll talk to you next time!" and used Yan Wushi's distraction to slip out of the window and out of the city. She had politics to take care of!

"A-Qiao," Yan Wushi said with glittering eyes (Oh no, he's bored, thought Shen Qiao), "I just heard you do palm reading. Won't you take a look at mine?"

With an internal sigh, Shen Qiao turned back. "Hm ..." He took the offered hand and studied it intensely.
"Yes, I see ... there's no mistaking it," he said, turning it slightly from side to side. He heard more than felt Yan Wushi tilt his head in amusement.

"Yes, definitely, it's still a dark grey blob."

Yan Wushi paused.

"Alright," he said, still sounding amused, "then read it by touching. You can tell by someone's bone structure, right?" He tugged Shen Qiao's hand to his waist and leaned closer. "We should go upstairs and get you extremely well acquainted with mine -"

Shen Qiao, regretting some of his more recent life choices, drew back hurriedly.

Yan Wushi's laughter echoed through the inn.

"You seem in a good mood today," said later Shen Qiao. Which is weird, because usually seeing Sect Leader Bai makes you frustrating and even more annoying to deal with than usual.
"Did something good happen?"

Yan Wushi stretched and leaned back farther. "Li Qingyu nearly beat your Shidi in a fight. Your Shimei challenged him back and nearly caused a diplomatic incident. Some random Harmony Sect disciple was found dead and it turns out he was trying to defect to Sang Jingxing, so now Sang Jingxing and Yuan Xiuxiu are fighting over his belongings, and Harmony Sect is like a stirred up ant hill over it. The Six Harmonies Association is one wrong move away from a schism. Qi is falling into chaos since someone exposed a series of connected embezzlements and the whole government is either busy covering their tracks or hunting down the others." He smiled. All in all, things weren't too boring right now. "Also, there's a banquet coming up and a little birdie told me you're going. You know. All interesting things."

Chapter Text

Bian Yanmei had heard from Yu Shengyan about the "ghost" they had kidnapped. He had also heard through the grapevine (Xie Xiang and his Shidi Zhan Ziqian had come home to Linchuan institute rather shaken) that Shizun was traveling with another person.
It didn't take a Bian Yanmei to put two and two together. He just wondered if there was any connection between their ghost and the ghosts that had paid a visit to Mount Xuandu (likely) and Commandery Prince Mu Tipo of Chenyang (unlikely, but his gut instinct said there was something ...).

Which brought him to the "ghost" that seemed to be lurking in this clearing. Audacious, to hide on Cleansing Moon Sect's grounds, but he could respect that.
Scanning the clearing discreetly, Bian Yanmei smirked. The bamboo grove was too quiet; there was definitely someone here, silencing the birds.

"Show yourself."

A little to the left of where he was looking, the bamboo rustled as a person stepped out.

Bian Yanmei's eyes widened in shock. "What are YOU doing h-"

From behind, something pierced the side of his nape. His hand came up only halfway before his eyes unfocused and he slumped.
The last thing he registered was, Oh, Shizun is NOT going to like this.

"Bian Yanmei didn't come to greet us," Shen Qiao noted.

Yan Wushi hummed in agreement. "What an unfilial brat," he said lazily, but his eyes remained coolly trained on the view of the gardens.

Shen Qiao hesitated. This was strange. Last time, Huo Xijing had entered the estate disguised behind the face of Bian Yanmei's trusted servant, and then promptly proven himself superior in martial arts. Bian Yanmei was rather talented in martial arts - any student of Yan Wushi's had to be -, but more than that, he was extraordinarly gifted in politics, and as a result, he tended to hone the latter rather than the former. Could it be Huo Xijing had attacked and defeated him? But why would Harmony Sect be irritated enough with Cleansing Moon Sect to make such an aggressive move?

... dumb question.

"Did you have any altercations with harmony sect recently?" Shen Qiao asked.

Yan Wushi cut him a short look before returning to the window. "I fought Yuan Xiuxiu in Chenyang."

Shen Qiao startled. That was unexpected. "Then does she have a motive to keep him out of the way for a while?"

The skin around Yan Wushi's eyes tightened somewhat. "Not one to kill him," Yan Wushi said. "An open conflict between our sects is not in her best interest right now."

Shen Qiao frowned. "Abducting a cultivator is difficult, though."

Yan Wushi gave a thoughtful en. Most fights between cultivators ended non-lethally, because as soon as the inferior party realized they were losing, they would extricate themselves from the situation and flee. Pursuing someone while attacking at the same time was a terrible hassle, especially with the fleeing person running for their life, so most people didn't bother. Fights ended lethally either because there was something at stake both parties were willing to die for, usually politics, or when there was a power difference so great that the superior party could easily stop someone from fleeing - for example, decapacitating someone with a single hit.
Abducting someone followed the same principle, but it was even more difficult, since the victim had to be overpowered completely without being lethally wounded.

Despite being less diligent than what was ideal, Bian Yanmei was far from weak.

"The whole thing doesn't make sense," Yan Wushi snapped suddenly. "There isn't a body, there isn't a message, he isn't weak. If someone took him, they couldn't have been much weaker than a sect leader - what happened, did they drug him!?"

Shen Qiao frowned faintly before looking up. "So where do we start looking for him?"
"Of course." Yan Wushi turned to him for the first time and raised a mocking eyebrow. "Shen-Daozhang, do alert me when you see a not particularly tall grey outline."
Translation: You've been shady and unhelpful as hell. No thank you.

Shen Qiao opened his mouth and found he had nothing to say to the accusation.

Yan Wushi rose to his feet. "No, I'm going on my own. You have an appointment with the Emperor, though. Do make sure not to miss that."

Yuwen Yong's answer to Shen Qiao's probing,
"How attached are you to the idea of your oldest son as crown prince?" turned out to be, "Very, and I'd be offended if someone suggested anything else. Why do you ask?" so Shen Qiao carefully switched gears.

"I have no doubt his Majesty the Crown Prince has the potential to be a good Emperor one day," just not the intention, will, or even vague inclination to, "and to ensure it won't be too strenuous for him, I believe he might find it helpful to be taught higher self-discipline."

Yuwen Yong stroked his chin thoughtfully. He loved his son, but it was a point of contention between them that the young man spent far too much time hunting, drinking and gambling. The words higher self-discipline had a similar effect on him as a shining gold coin by the side of a road would have on a poor traveling merchant: Joy mixed with wariness.
"I'm listening."

With great care, Shen Qiao used the next ten minutes to essentially lay down the suggestion, "temporarily demote him so he appreciates the title more when he gets it back, and send him to boot camp at a cultivation sect in the meantime. For a few years."

Yuwen Yong looked at him with the disappointment of a man who is realizing someone is trying to use them. "And I suppose you're about to suggest that Xuandu Mountain could take him as a disciple for that time?"

Shen Qiao fought hard to suppress the cringe going through his entire body. The idea of that patricidal spoilt brat on their training field, even or especially without him there so supervise, was enough to give him shivers. He cleared his throat. "We would of course be honored. Only, I fear with my former Shidi siding with the Göktürks, Xuandu Mountain may be unsuitable for such an esteemed guest such as your -" irresponsible murderer of a - "son."

Yuwen Yong seemed pacified at the answer. "Are you suggesting Cleansing Moon Sect, then?"

As funny as the thought of volunteering Yan Wushi for the task is, he would kill Yuwen Yun within less than five minutes.
Shen Qiao regretfully shook his head. "With all due respect, I don't believe -"
Yan Wushi would kill Yuwen Yun in less than five minutes, echoed through his head again. On second thought, that was kind of tempting.
... Nah. There was no way Yan Wushi would condescend to accept such a talentless person, well past the ideal starting age as well, into his sect even temporarily.
Even though the mental image of Yu Shengyan smacking around his new Shidi thanks to the privilege of no longer being youngest was an amusing one.
Shen Qiao smiled, then shook his head to return to the present.
"I don't believe he would fit in well with the other two students. It's better to place him somewhere with other beginners, so he has people to compare himself to."

"I can't imagine Yan Wushi being amenable, either," Yuwen Yong said ruefully.

At least you see somewhat clear about your son's talents, that's rather rare. If it weren't for him killing you, I'd get you a parent of the year badge.

"But then, who did you have in mind? The other top martial arts organizations are mostly buddhists or confucianists, who might not be happy to teach any child of mine. Or worse, be all too happy."

I wouldn't be too sure that isn't already happening, Shen Qiao thought with a mental nod to Abbot Xueting. At the rate this is going, let's just hope I can stop the ambush on Yan Wushi this time, then Yuwen Yun will never get the chance to execute his coup.

"Preferably no ties to neighboring countries, either," mused Shen Qiao. "Yi Pichen of Chunyang Monastery might be willing to take him in, or Bixia Sect, they have been mostly keeping to themselves in the past few years. Their leader, Zhao Chiying, is very dependable. Your Majesty, if you prefer not to get involved with Daoism, perhaps you could also try Harmony Sect - while I can't vouch for their righteousness, their ties to Qi seem to be loosening lately, if you offer them an out, they might be glad to make the jump."

Yuwen Yong gave him a strange look.

Shen Qiao smiled faintly. "Yan-Zongzhu really enjoys talking politics recently. It's impossible even for this humble daoist not to pick up at least some information."

Still mustering him sharply, Yuwen Yong settled before giving an imperious nod. "I will consider your suggestion," he said.

Shen Qiao inclined his head in respect. "This one couldn't ask for more. Perhaps you might want to bring up this idea with your son first, he might not agree with what I said."

Yuwen Yong didn't purse his lips, but he still managed to look faintly thunderous. "He is my son," he declared. "He will do as he is ordered."

As that had been exactly what Shen Qiao had aimed for, he took that as his cue to end the conversation and gracefully took his leave.

When Shen Qiao returned to Xie Manor, Yan Wushi still hadn't returned.

Chapter Text

If Bian Yanmei was missing, there were two prime suspects: Harmony Sect, and the Tujue. Yan Wushi was likely already investigating the former, so Shen Qiao decided to stretch a little in the direction of the latter. Besides, he felt it was necessary to warn Lady Qin about the unwelcome guest her birthday party might draw, so it was only efficient to pay her a visit.
It was unlikely he would be let in over the formal way, and if he sent a message there was a chance of word getting to Duan Wenyang, so he decided to forego both. Guards and walls were barely an obstacle for a trained martial artist.
Silent as a cat, Shen Qiao leapt the distance from the ground onto the tiles covering the estate's outer wall and looked around.
He blinked in surprise. At the same time as him breaking in, a black-clad person seemed to be breaking out.

... he really should have expected running into Bai Rong here.

They stared at each other awkwardly for a second.

Then she shrugged, turned and waved him into a guard house. Inside were two unmoving guards; the quiet sound of their breaths told Shen Qiao they were unconscious, not dead. A hint of fondness went through him; Bai Rong really had come far.

The woman in question closed the door behind him and pulled the dark cloth mask from her face.

"Shen-lang, what a coincidence," she said. "You're also here about the ring?"

Shen Qiao nodded.

"Well, bad news," she said. "Lady Qin is incredibly stubborn. She refuses to destroy the ring, she doesn't want to bury it in the woods somewhere either, and she just barely agreed to keeping it in a different room during the banquet instead of on her finger."

Shen Qiao looked thoughtfully. "Do you know which room?"

A smirk flickered over Bai Rong's face. "Shen-lang, am I a bad influence on you?"

"It's not as if we're stealing a Zhuyang Ce book," Bai Rong had said flippantly earlier.
In a manner of speaking, that was true. For the Book of Free Will, she had known when, where and how to strike to evade the security measures.

First they spent too much time figuring out where the ring was.

Then they spent too much time figuring out Lady Qin had somehow found the time to set up traps around it.

Shen Qiao missed first the opportunity window to return home and retrieve his invitation, and then the opportunity window to slink into the banquet unnoticed when it started.

By the time Bai Rong let herself down from the rafters on a set of repurposed curtains, the party, which had already been in full swing, suddenly went quiet.

"That sounds like our friend of dramatic entrances, Duan Wenyang," she said with grim cheer and stretched her fingers. Shen Qiao, who had tied the curtains to the rafters and was nonetheless keeping a tight grip on them so he could pull her up quickly if need be, gave only a soft en in response.

They were avoiding the floors, because they were shiny with something they were pretty sure they didn't want on their shoes, especially in combination with the trip wires and pointed lack of open flames anywhere.
The jewellery box with the ring was sitting on a pedestal in the middle of the room.

"Ready?"

"Go."

Swinging on their improvised rope towards the pedestal, Bai Rong waited for the second in which the momentum reversed and snatched the lid.
A cloud of white powder billowed forth from the opening.
Clinging to the rope, half a meter higher since Shen Qiao had yanked her up immediately, Bai Rong waited for the powder to disperse. After a few seconds, she gently waved her sleeve to speed up the process.

"A paralyzing agent?" Shen Qiao asked from above.

She sniffed gently. "Not ours, I think, but similar."

The ring was gleaming on top of a square pillow, deceptively easy to reach.
Shen Qiao lowered her again, more slowly this time. Looping her feet more firmly into the fabric, Bai Rong readied herself.

Outside, the silence had given way to clamor. Someone roared; fighting noises and feet scuffling sounded, the crowd getting clear of the fighters, a roar, then a blade ringing out -

Shen Qiao's head snapped up in astonishment. The movement jarred the curtain.

"Watch out," hissed Bai Rong and tried to steady herself again.

"I could have sworn that blade was -"

More crashes and noises came from the hallway. The clamor was approaching rapidly.

"No time!" hissed Bai Rong.

Shen Qiao shook his head and focused back on the task. "Ready when you are."

"Go."

Shen Qiao started pulling her up, Bai Rong snatched the ring and rose barely quickly enough.
Silver flashed as several needles shot through the air where her hand had been seconds ago.

Landing gracefully on the ceiling beam, Bai Rong stashed away the ring and plucked one needle out from her sleeve.
They both mustered it for a second, frowning.
Then there were definitely steps hurrying towards them.
Sharing a look, they recognized at the same time it was too late to get clear. Instead, they both began to scramble inelegantly to pull up the curtains into the rafters and out of view.

From the outside, Duan Wenyang's voice came through the door. "Lady Qin, if you don't have the ring we're looking for, surely you don't mind if we all take a look at -"
The door flew open with a dramatic kick. Duan Wenyang spun in place and presented the interior of the room with a wide gesture. "- THIS!"

The crowd murmured. Enough people had followed first the fight and then only Duan Wenyang into the side corridor, and he could still be easily heard in the banquet hall.
(While his back was turned, Shen Qiao used the opportunity to hitch up the last corner of the curtains and tuck it back into their bundle. Him and Bai Rong shared a nod and kept quiet.)

Duan Wenyang turned around again to, presumably, go and take the ring for himself. Instead, he found himself faced with the open, empty jewelry box.
His face fell. It turned first ashen, then red.

In that moment, a familiar voice rang out through the hall. It was a cultivator's voice, strengthened with inner qi, and could easily be heard from the central hall to the outermost wings of the estate.
"Ah ... not only are you crashing this party, you're also doing it badly. Really, no style to speak of. As your teacher, Hulugu must be rolling in his grave."

Unconsciously, Shen Qiao's lips turned upwards. Who else could it be, if not the Demonic Sovereign himself?

Of course it was Yan Wushi.

Chapter Text

It was one of the ultra rare occasions where someone - namely, Lady Qin - saw Yan Wushi and thought, thank the heavens, we're saved.
This is definitely going to go off the rails (even more), but we're saved.

"Lady Qin," Yan Wushi sneered, his gaze straying through the hall above the assembled guests and landing somewhere vaguely near Lady Qin, "it seems you have a good party going here. If only it weren't for the unfortunate choice of decor over there. Is it imported from Tuyuhun?"

Duan Wenyang was so angry he laughed instead. "Sect Leader Yan, I may be imposing, but you're invited and still only showed up when the party was almost over. Aren't you being too rude to your host?"

Yan Wushi made a throwaway gesture. "Everybody knows you save the best parts of the party for later."

"I completely agree," Lady Qin said in a clear voice, easily audible everywhere within the hall. "Junior State Preceptor Yan, we're honored to have you as a guest. For the same reason," she turned back to Duan Wenyang, "we're would have preferred if this young man had shown up far earlier."

The crowd murmured gleefully.

Duan Wenyang stalked away from the room, clenching the handle of his whip more tightly.

Behind and above him, Shen Qiao and Bai Rong exchanged a look and quietly started to move through the rafters to the edge of the room.

"I heard my Shidi had to concede a loss to you a few months ago," Duan Wenyang said and stepped fully out of the side corridor into the banquet hall. People drew back to give him and Yan Wushi more space. "I've been wishing to try my hand as well."

"Oh, your Shidi," Yan Wushi said, pretending to be thoughtful. "... he beat Qi Fengge's mantle disciple, so I had big hopes for him, but truth to be told, he was nothing special when I fought him. Disappointing."

Shen Qiao slid through the hole in the separation between the rafters of their side room and those supporting the ceiling of the significantly higher banquet hall. He picked up Shanhe Tongbei from where he had leaned it against the wall earlier and turned to wait for Bai Rong, but took the time to use his new vantage point for a sweep of the hall.

Despite Yan Wushi's harsh words, he was smiling, looking to all the world as if he was being wonderfully entertained. His eyes hadn't moved from Duan Wenyang even once.
"I came here to check in on the person I sent here in my stead, and it seems it was a wasted trip. But since I'm here already, shall this venerable one teach you a lesson?"

Even for Yan Wushi, this behavior was strange.

In the rafters, Bai Rong followed through the hole and threw Shen Qiao an astonished look, as if to say: What is wrong with him this time?

He gave a look back that said, Yan-Zongzhu's heart is as unknowable as the ocean. Does this humble daoist look like a sea-farer to you?

Now they were balancing across the strong beams interconnecting the pillars of the hall, high above the crowd. Provided nobody looked up - and with the incense in the air and the unsteady firelight, perhaps not even then - they had a decent chance of making it out undetected.

"You have Han ancestry, who think they're so civilized," Duan Wenyang said, "yet you have the manners and bearing of a peasant in a bar fight. Do you not know how to behave properly?"

Yan Wushi rolled his eyes and half-addressed the crowd. "Proper behavior, he says ... as if he hasn't come here to steal what isn't his, start fights without provocation, and kidnap people. Unbelievable," said the man who stole things, started fights without provocation, and kidnapped people on the regular.

Duan Wenyang went redder.

Another fond smile found its way across Shen Qiao's face.

Sneaking across the ceiling beam parallel to his, Bai Rong threw him another look that said, you are so in love it's not even funny.

He was.

The rafters continued, albeit at a far higher level, above the banquet hall. Still soundlessly, Qiao and Bai Rong snuck past. Nonetheless, Shen Qiao kept searching the faces below. He was sure the sound of the ringing blade earlier had been one he knew.

His scrutiny paid off. Standing at the edge of the crowd, next to - was that Puliuru Jian? - was the upright, cold presence of his Shimei, Gu Hengbo.

Noting where his gaze had gone, Bai Rong flicked her fingers to catch his attention.

Shen Qiao gave her a questioning look.
Does her presence have anything to do with you?

Bai Rong nodded in response and then tilted her head towards Gu Hengbo again. Go see her. I'll get the ring out of here.

Seconds later, Shen Qiao dropped to the floor next to Gu Hengbo and greeted her.

She didn't look surprised to see him, but she did look pleased. Her eyes flicked up and down his frame as if to gauge his overall wellbeing.

"You were one of the people who fought Duan Wenyang earlier?" Shen Qiao asked, pitching his voice so it didn't carry in the rising murmurs of the crowd.

"I did."

Shen Qiao nodded in approval. She didn't seem injured or overly exhausted, so the margin she had lost by couldn't be very big - impressive, since Duan Wenyang was even more skilled than Kunye and several years her senior.

They both turned back to the duel so they were less conspicuous. "How did you get in?" asked Shen Qiao.

Gu Hengbo, uncharacteristically, hesitated. "Bai-niangzi said she knew you ..."

Shen Qiao didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or to cry. That didn't even come close to doing the complicated nuances of their relationship justice.
Instead, he just said, "she does."

Gu Hengbo seemed to relax a little. "She introduced me to someone named Puliuru Jian. I'm here as part of his retinue, only for this evening."

Shen Qiao was somewhat lost for words. Of course Puliuru Jian wasn't Emperor yet, but his family was very influential. Bai Rong really had a talent for approaching people if she could make such illustrious acquaintances so quickly!

At the front of the crowd, Duan Wenyang said with faux cordiality, "If I were you, I wouldn't be so arrogant. If you continue making enemies left and right, you might find yourself buried beneath them one day."

Yan Wushi laughed derisively. "I heard the Tujue had many great experts. If your country's Kosa Sage were here, I might have to show him some face. You, though ... You're inexperienced, and your martial arts are middling at best. You have the face to lecture me about making enemies?"

While he spoke, Duan Wenyang's expression grew more controlled, and his pose subtly shifted until he was poised to attack. The tension rose until the hall was completely silent. At his last word, the crowd seemed to collectively hold their breaths in anticipation of the fight.

Directly above them, Bai Rong focused on being as quiet as possible as she snuck by. Without her knowledge, another needle had gotten caught in her sleeve earlier, which she had failed to notice in the hurry of the theft. During all of their sneaking around, it had loosened slightly. Being completely focused on the silence of her steps, Bai Rong only noticed the needle after it had dislodged itself from her sleeve and was already falling.
With a silver flash, the needle spun in mid air. Bai Rong stretched out a hand, letting herself fall backwards, and missed it by mere inches. She caught herself noiselessly in a crouch on the beam and could only watch as the needle dropped into the ring of empty space around the opponents.

In the breathless silence, the pin hit the stone floor with a quiet tinkling noise and continued to ring merrily for another few seconds.

As one, the gazes of the assembled guests rose to the banquet hall's ceiling, where one lone thief in a servant's uniform was crouching in the rafters.

Chapter Text

Bai Rong could see confusion running over Duan Wenyang's face, but it was already melting - it wouldn't hold for long.

The next instant, something crashed. It hit the ground in a wave of horrible noise and broke the stalemate.
Gu Hengbo had kicked over one of the massive braziers and sent the glowing hot coals inside flying. By the time the iron brazier touched the floor, several decisive sword strikes had sent them shooting toward Duan Wenyang.

"Despicable," she said coldly, loud enough to be heard in the entire hall. "First you distract us with this pitiful display, then you send a thief into this house? How dare you!"

Tumult broke out.

Duan Wenyang cracked his whip in mid-air. The wave of qi stopped the coals and made them burst into a rain of sparks, cooling to ash and soot as they rained down on the stone floor around his feet.

Duan Wenyang's face was drawn into a snarl, but he resisted a response and looked back up. The rafters above him were empty, but another glance revealed a dark silhouette a few meters further, leaping toward the exit with graceful strides.

Cracking his whip again to clear more space around himself, he took a running start and jumped, the crowd parting in a hurry. Touching down lightly on the shoulder of someone who hadn't dodged quickly enough, he flew another dozen meters to the doors. In only two leaps, he had cleared almost the entire distance!

The shadow was quicker however, sending the door exploding outwards in a shower of wooden splinters with a burst of qi and rushing through. Duan Wenyang followed hot on their heels, quickly followed by Lady Qin's sons Su Qiao and Su Wei and most other martial artists in attendance.

Outside, Bai Rong had taken to the roofs of the buildings surrounding the courtyard.

Duan Wenyang, having followed, raised his whip for a strike to bridge the gap between them, hoping to wrap it around one ankle.

In that moment, the flash of a sword glare appeared in the corner of his eye.

The ground beneath his feet lurched as every single tile on the roof rose up in one giant shock wave. The force threw him backwards. He turned in mid-air and landed on the naked wall at the end of the building, expelling his qi to protect himself from the barrage of terra cotta shingles.

Squinting over his crossed forearms, he saw another dark figure standing on the opposite end of the roof. The stranger exuded a calm aura of confidence and threat.

Duan Wenyang looked out into the night, which had already swallowed up the first stranger. His eyes were still blinded by the estate's bright lights, and looking for the first thief like this was pointless.
He looked back at the second stranger, whose first attack had already been startlingly powerful. The power difference between them wasn't overwhelming, but it was large enough Duan Wenyang didn't like his chances, especially not after his previous duels had already tired him out.
He made his decision.
With another look at the calm stranger, Duan Wenyang turned and fled.

Shen Qiao, who had started to move almost the second the needle hit the ground to slip out of a window and run around the building before Bai Rong had even crossed the threshold, calmly resheathed Shanhe Tongbei.

Leisurely, Yan Wushi came strolling out of the hall as well, the only martial artist present who showed neither interest in the fight nor in the ring.
Still, Shen Qiao felt his eyes burning holes into the back of his disguise.

The aftermath, Duan Wenyang, Tuyuhun

"Shizun," Duan Wenyang said, kneeling with his head bowed. "I failed you. Somebody beat me to the ring, two masked martial artists. I fought only one of them, and he was worryingly strong."

His Shizun's eyes remained cool. "Are you sure?"

He blamed the exhaustion, but Duan Wenyang had to bite back the words, well, either that or your former lover - my former Shijie - has an extremely vindictive household spirit.
Out loud, he said, "I'm sure. He has the potential to become a serious threat in the future. I propose swift action."

The aftermath, Bai Rong, Lady Qin's study

"Looking back, maybe we should have just let Duan Wenyang pick up the ring," the young woman sitting on the windowsill said, coquettishly dangling one foot. She had been doing the same thing while delivering her warning about the Tujue earlier this day. Lady Qin had to suppress the urge to throw her paperweight at her.

Seeming to read her thoughts, Bai Rong smiled and tilted her head cutely. "You knew exactly what you were doing after all!"

"Is that so," Lady Qin said through gritted teeth. "What gave you that impression?"

Bai Rong pulled one of her needles out from her pockets and made it jump over her fingers, like a bored bar keeper using a coin to entertain guests. She let it run back, then forth again, and brought it to a halt.
"The needles were poisoned," she said, her smile sharpening. "More interestingly, the poison was one I had never seen before."

Lady Qin raised her eyebrows, but made sure the rest of her expression showed only polite disinterest.

Bai Rong was watching her like a hawk.
"... and considering your old connection with the Tujue, I'm pretty sure I know what it is."

Lady Qin kept her face perfectly still.

"Well," said Bai Rong. "To you, the ring symbolizes bittersweet partings, doesn't it? Then I would argue it's only fitting to exchange it for its counterpart."

Lady Qin mustered her sharply. The offer seemed sincere, so she silently opened a desk drawer and took a small porcelain flask from the secret compartment beneath the bottom.

She held out her hand demandingly. Only when Bai Rong had readily exchanged the ring for the bottle, she verified it really was her ring and relaxed.
Looking up, she said, "How could you be so sure I had any more? I could have used the last of it on the needles."

"Well," Bai Rong said, holding the bottle into the moonlight streaming in from the window to read the inscription, "my teacher also sleeps with his students. And I know that if I was leaving, I'd take him for all he was worth."
She looked up and grinned at Lady Qin's wry facial expression, then tossed the bottle into the air and caught it again.
"If this isn't what you say it is, I'm coming back and stealing the ring again!"

The curtains moved in the breeze and she was gone already.

"For revenge or so you can make the trade with Hulugu instead?" Lady Qin asked the empty room drily.

Her only answer was bell-like laughter wafting in on the wind.

The aftermath, Shen Qiao

Shen Qiao slipped into his room at Xie Residence through the window, thinking he had been quiet.
His vision had been getting better, but the dark still caused him problems.

He almost startled out of his skin when the shadow across from the weiqi board spoke.
This time, Yan Wushi's voice was disconcertingly cool.

"We need to talk."

Chapter Text

Shen Qiao sighed inaudibly before nodding. He sat down across from Yan Wushi.
In the darkness, he could see vague blots where the white stones were situated, and nothing of the black ones, but from that alone, he could infer the formation he had left there this afternoon was largely unchanged.

Yan Wushi waited until he had settled before speaking himself.
"You said I would know more about your plans here if I asked. Alright, I'm asking." Yan Wushi's eyes were hazy in the half-light coming from the window, but Shen Qiao thought they were colder than usual. "What are you doing?"

"For one, I wanted to see for myself if Yuwen Yong had the potential to unify the kingdoms and usher in an era of peace," Shen Qiao said carefully. "Thanking Yan-zongzhu for arranging a meeting, it was very helpful."

"What did you conclude?"

Shen Qiao remembered what Yan Wushi had wanted to know and answered as honestly as he could. "He's terribly overworked and stressed, which barring great changes will kill him eventually. Other than that, he seems competent enough."

Yan Wushi pondered this for a few seconds. Then he said, "During that visit, what did you say about his son? They were in conflict when I left here, with the servants running scared from the screaming. And what's this about him starting to cultivate?"

Shen Qiao's eyebrows rose in surprise. "That was quick. I didn't expect him to act immediately ..."

At Yan Wushi's look, he elaborated. "I suggested the crown prince might benefit from the discipline one picks up when training."

Yan Wushi sneered. "No sect with any sense is going to take him in. He's going to find some third-rate sect afraid of his name and wealth, where he can throw around both until nobody even expects him to train anymore. The endeavor is doomed from the start."

Shen Qiao gave a half-smile and remained silent. He hadn't thought of that, but it would still keep Yuwen Yun away from the capital and from any attempts for a coup.
Instead of responding, he waited for Yan Wushi to come back to the topic he actually wanted to talk about.

After a moment, Yan Wushi said, "You helped that thief to escape with the ring."

It wasn't a question, but Shen Qiao still confirmed it. "We agreed it was better to keep the ring out of the Tujue's hands and formed a plan to acquire it first."

Yan Wushi thought. What were the odds that this partner in crime and the person who had stolen the solarity were the same person?

Not bad. Even if Shen Qiao hadn't been directly involved in the last one, they had likely had met up later and formed an alliance for this theft.

That left him with some new information on his solarity thief.
Decent qinggong, a penchant for disguises - the thief at Moving Clouds Monastery had been wearing monk's robes - and a minute stature, so either someone small or a cultivator using bone shrinking technique to fit into the servant's uniform they had stolen.
It was good he had already contacted Sang Jingxing. The evidence in his direction was piling up.

All Shen Qiao saw was a calculating look and silence.
"My apologies," he said when it became clear Yan Wushi wasn't going to speak. "I agreed to go to the banquet for you and then didn't. It won't happen again."

Yan Wushi thought, That's not what I was thinking about at all. Also, who apologizes for that in this situation? There's no way this guy is being sincere right now.

Lazily, he said, "I'm sure we'll find some way for you to make up for it."

As expected, the innuendo wasn't brazen enough. It went straight over his head.
Shen Qiao just nodded. "You weren't at the banquet to check in on me, though," he probed.

"No. Think about it and tell me."

Shen Qiao turned it over in his head. "You investigated anyone suspicious who stayed in the area last night and could have kidnapped Bian Yanmei. While searching, you found out Duan Wenyang was in the area."

"Correct. And he knows nothing about the matter, or he would have thrown it in my face or at least hinted at it earlier."

"True," Shen Qiao agreed a little too easily, "Nobody can stay quiet when Yan Wushi is mocking them. He definitely would have said something."

Yan Wushi's smile gained a dangerous edge. "Are you saying I'm annoying?"

Shen Qiao felt wrong-footed. Saying yes was a very bad idea, but straight-up denying it would just be too brazen of a lie!

He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "If it wasn't the Tujue delegation, who else was in the area who could have done it?"

Someone from Harmony Sect - likely to have been your heist partner, couldn't have done it alone, too busy. Someone from the Mirror of Arts Sect - they're usually acting from out of Tuyuhun, but it makes sense for them to be where the Tujue try to gain a foothold in Zhou, and we're not in conflict with them.
Every single guest at the party - many martial artists from many different sects, some daoist, some buddhist, but while some would have the skills, they all lack an actual motive.
We have at the same time too many and too few suspects.

Instead of responding, Yan Wushi leaned forward and smiled at him sharply. "Why do you care about that, hm? You have never even met him."

Because I like the young man and want him to be alright, Shen Qiao thought. After a beat of hesitation, he said, "I still owe you for saving me at Banbu Peak, so I'd like to help you."

Yan Wushi's voice grew smoother. "Oh, your actions with the ring saved the kingdom of Zhou quite some trouble and face, and by extension, me. All debts you could have towards me are settled."

It was as much of a taunt as it was a test. As long as Shen Qiao was indebted to him, there was some form of connection between them. In declaring them even, this connection was severed. Without it, how would Shen Qiao react?

Shen Qiao, feeling that Yan Wushi was drawing a line between them, opened his mouth to respond but found nothing to say.

"You don't seem happy about this." Yan Wushi was thinking out loud, without taking his eyes off Shen Qiao's face even for a second. "Is it that you want to stay close to me because you stand to gain some sort of benefit? No, you didn't try to sabotage my standing with Yuwen Yong while you were talking to him, and you didn't push for any other advantage for yourself either."
A mocking smile appeared on his face. "Don't tell me you're in love with me?"

Shen Qiao's expression shuttered like a gale slamming a window shut. Even as it happened, he knew was making a mistake.

Like a hound smelling blood on the breeze, Yan Wushi leaned forward with a glint in his eyes.
"Oh? Is that right? I really wouldn't have guessed. Is it because I saved your life and sought you out afterwards?"

Instead of a response, Shen Qiao pressed his lips together. Yan Wushi took it as permission to continue.

"You said once I reminded you of a dead loved one. Isn't that just another way of saying I'm your type?"

"Stop," Shen Qiao said quietly.

"Absolutely not," Yan Wushi said. This is too good."

Shen Qiao remained silent for another moment, then rose to his feet and turned to leave.

Yan Wushi caught his sleeve, laughing.
"Come on, the least you can do is -"

"Yan-zongzhu," Shen Qiao said in a clipped tone, "I kindly request you mind your own affairs and let me mind mine."

Yab Wushi paused, then grinned and let go of him.
"Alright," he said in an almost conciliatory tone. "It's nearly morning anyway. How can you keep me up this late? You're being irresponsible."

Nobody asked you to wait up for me! Shen Qiao thought.

"Good night," he said politely.

Still smiling, Yan Wushi took the hint and left the room and Shen Qiao to his thoughts.

Chapter Text

If Shen Qiao had thought the royal family argument would lose him favor, he would have been wrong. Yuwen Yong seemed grimly satisfied the next time he saw him, saying the change had been "long overdue" and that he had "clearly been too lenient with [his] son."
Citing that good advice was rarer than rubies, he made an attempt to keep Shen Qiao in court, which Shen Qiao gracefully declined.

"If Yan-zongzhu steps south of the Yangtze, Academy Master Ruyan Kehui will doubtlessly seek him out for a duel," he said with a polite smile, echoing Yan Wushi's words from the last timeline. "I really can't wait to see it."

Yuwen Yong looked disappointed, but accepted his answer without arguing. He said, "if you're traveling in the same direction already, please at least go in company. It will definitely be more comfortable for you to travel with Embassador Yuwen Qing's envoy."

Shen Qiao blinked in surprise before internally nodding to himself. The official in question was known for having a silver tongue; Yuwen Yun probably hoped he would talk him around. Still, it suited his purposes just fine, so he bowed. "Your Majesty is too generous."

Traveling undercover was, to put it mildly, boring.
Traveling in general was boring, most of the time, but it was worse when you were waiting for an assassination attempt and couldn't even show your face without potentially scaring it off.
All of which would have been slightly more tolerable if he at least wasn't suffering alone, but on the grounds of his face being virtually unknown outside of Mount Xuandu, Shen Qiao was traveling on horseback together with the guardsmen.
So there wasn't even anyone to annoy.

A carriage in front of his, Yuwen Qing opened his window and leaned out. Shen Qiao steered his horse so he was riding next to him.
The wheels were rumbling on the uneven street, hooves were clacking out a slurry of percussive noise, but Yan Wushi's sharp ears still picked up the words with ease.

After exchanging some of the usual greetings and idle small talk - ("Are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable in the carriage, Shen-daozhang?") - Yuwen Qing finally got to the question he really wanted to ask. "What is your relationship with junior preceptor Yan anyway? Do you know each other very well?"

Shen Qiao took a moment before he answered. "No. Not well at all," he said, and added nothing else.

Alright, Yan Wushi thought. So he found some reason to accompany us. Suspicious. Let's see what he's going to do.
The answer seemed to be: absolutely nothing. He rode with the guards around Yuwen Qing's carriage, occasionally exchanging words with them, his expression serious when he turned his face far enough that Yan Wushi caught a glimpse.

On the first evening, he dropped by when they were making up camp to suggest a spar, as had become their usual on the road to Chang'an.
Feeling somewhere between baffled and amused, Yan Wushi declined. They were supposed to stay inconspicuous, and their last fights had felled multiple trees and lasted over an hour.
As far as attempts for sabotage went, that one was almost laughable. Shen Qiao wasn't good enough yet to seriously tire him out.
Perhaps he was trying to protect the guards who would inevitably get caught in the crossfire of a fight by scaring off their prey?

The attack came at night, and Yan Wushi got locked into combat with Bai Rong after the speed at which the two of them had torn through the forest had left the four elders far behind them. Three, now, as Yan Wushi had gotten in a surprise hit during the race, throwing the fastest one into a tree with a final sounding crack which promised spinal injuries.
He could easily leave the rest to Shen Qiao; with the duplicate letter in his sleeve, it would be no big loss if Yuwen Qing died, and it was another test for Shen Qiao. Whether he fought and risked his life, entangling himself further with Zhou, or stood aside to sacrifice Yuwen Qing for the lives of his subordinates would tell him much.

The insolent chit in front of him was turning to be out a little more of a challenge.
In and of itself, the fight was nothing special; Bai Rong favored palm techniques of a similar style as his own spring water fingering, and even if she was holding her ground for now, the technique was far inferior and would lose to his in time. However, despite retreating three steps for every one she dared to go forward, despite never taking a hit head-on, she wasn't losing any ground - in an open space such as this, being herded was meaningless, and while he was forcing her back, he wasn't forcing her off balance.
In fact, she was holding her ground weirdly well, and when he looked at the fight with a critical eye, he realized that he wasn't the only one holding back.

Narrowing his eyes, Yan Wushi prepared another series of palm strikes and darted forward himself to close the gap between them. Bai Rong jumped towards one of the incoming attacks, let it glance off her guard, and threw herself to the side and back to keep the distance between them.

Touching down once and immediately leaping after her, Yan Wushi caught a whiff of lotus perfume on the air, and -

Out of an impulse of suspicion, he put on a smirk and asked, "Lost your new ring already?"

Bai Rong alighted on a branch and tossed her braids over her shoulder with a sugary smile. "I gave it back, of course! It wasn't really my style."

Yan Wushi was struck with a completely unjustified moment of I knew it.
It was followed by, Well, at least I should have known.
Followed, again, by How did this CHILD steal the solarity from under all of our noses?

Outwardly, Yan Wushi only gave a condescending smile. "That's understandable. It's a ring that needs an appropriately dignified demeanor to go with it, it can't be worn by someone who insists on acting like a five year old."

Bai Rong giggled, but in her eyes was a spark of anger. "It's better to act five than to look fifty - just ask Shen Qiao!"

And that was one step too far.

When Yan Wushi returned to the clearing (having sent that insolent Harmony brat running after less than fifty exchanged moves - the audacity, really), Shen Qiao had already beaten two of the three Harmony Sect elders present.

For some reason, Yan Shou had been among them and Shen Qiao hadn't shown any hesitation in dealing with him - the White Dragon Monastery's Abbott would never choke on his own blood cursing his name, and neither would Chuyi. Xiao Se was nowhere in sight either, and Shen Qiao suspected Bai Rong on both accounts. Perhaps she was being nice; perhaps she was just conveniently deposing of an elder who was going to stand in her way to the sect leader's title. The safest bet was probably both.

He had overextended himself killing Yan Shou, leaving him at a disadvantage against the third elder - nobody he knew. He was vaguely aware of Yan Wushi watching him struggle from the sidelines without interfering.
The mistake cost him. He managed to drive his opponent back far enough for him to notice Yan Wushi leaning lazily against the overturned carriage and flee in terror, but not before the elder had gotten in two good hits against his ribcage that had him swallowing blood.

Nothing a day or two of meditation wouldn't fix, but it was still inconvenient.

Yuwen Qing chose this exact moment to announce his presence and eternal gratitude, and Shen Qiao had to repress the urge to pinch his nose.

Timing, good man.

Shen Qiao was almost grateful when instead of letting Yuwen Qing invite him to his tent to rest, Yan Wushi dragged him into his.

"Bai Rong stole the solarity and wrote that letter to you," he began, audibly smug to have figured it out.

Shen Qiao sighed. "I thought you said she was too young and inexperienced?"

"I suspect someone put her up to it. But she improved a lot over the last six months, and she admitted to stealing the ring together with you - there's no doubt in my mind that she also stole the solarity."

Shen Qiao found himself going, huh.
The idea of keeping the secret from Yan Wushi forever had been unrealistic from the start. The upside to this was that he didn't seem to be mad about it anymore, rather thoughtful and curious.

Yan Wushi stepped closer to him. "If you really met her all the way back in Funing County, you should have known the letter was from her, though."

As if you didn't know I knew.
"I didn't know you, however. Back then, what reason did i have to help you over her?"

Yan Wushi leaned even closer. Mockingly, he said, "Aw, you lied?"

Shen Qiao straightened up, but didn't back away - there was no point. "What you were really asking was, 'are you gonna help me kill that person?' And I very truthfully said no."

His thoughts really should be on the conversation, but all he could find in his head was, please tell me you haven't talked to Sang Jinxing yet. You definitely will, at the rate things are going, but please tell me it hasn't been yet.

Yan Wushi mustered him with a detached sort of curiosity.
As if specifically to dash his hopes, he said, "We're not friends, you and I."
(It seemed like a non sequitur, but Shen Qiao knew he was referring to the back then from a few sentences before.)

Against his better judgement, Shen Qiao found himself saying, "We could be."

In the silence that followed, the sound of footsteps passing outside seemed unnaturally loud. Yuwen Qing's voice called, "Daoist Master Shen?"
Yan Wushi's grip on his wrist tightened.

Shen Qiao tilted his head back slightly, some strange sense of inevitability welling up inside of him, and closed his eyes.
A beat passed. Yan Wushi didn't kiss him.
Then he moved away, and Shen Qiao opened his eyes in absolute confusion.

Yan Wushi stepped halfway across the tent, scoffed derisively and turned away to pour himself something to drink.

Shen Qiao tried to bring his thoughts back into order. "What are you ...?"

"If you want someone to use as a tool to make yourself more miserable, go find someone else," Yan Wushi said coolly.

Why? Does it threaten your pride if I do it on purpose instead of fighting you on it?

Shen Qiao took a deep breath before abruptly deciding that yes, he was making himself miserable by being here, and he had had enough of it.
"Alright then," he said and turned.

"Where are you going?"

"To find someone else."

Yan Wushi sneered. "Who are you going to look for? Yuwen Qing is instructed to convince you to go back to Chang'an, he wouldn't dare."

Yes, Shen Qiao supposed, making him miserable probably wouldn't be beneficial to that goal. Still, that was an odd thing to say.

He stopped, one hand on the tent flap. "Well, Bai Rong is probably still somewhere nearby, hoping we'll get careless. I'll just go and find her."

He turned to leave. It was a good opportunity to warn her she had been found out ... and if nothing else, Bai Rong would definitely be receptive to complaining about Yan Wushi.

"I'll see you in the morning."

The sound of Yan Wushi setting down his cup was the only warning he got.
Then he was spun around and pressed against one of the support beams of the tent, and before he finished processing, he was being kissed.

Oh, so that's what that was about last time, he thought.

And then he didn't think about anything else for a while.

Chapter Text

They separated when Yuwen Qing finally guessed correctly and came looking for Shen Qiao in Yan Wushi's tent. Half-heartedly, Shen Qiao pushed at Yan Wushi's shoulder to let him go, who pressed in closely once more before withdrawing with a parting nip that left his mouth smarting.

Yuwen Qing, who had come in, taken one look at them, and darted out again to wait outside, carefully peeked back in and joined them with a plate full of blood replenishing food.

"Shen-daozhang, I took the liberty of setting these out for you. The fight seemed strenuous."

He must have looked rather pale earlier, then.
It was a good reminder that he still had some injuries to take care of. Shen Qiao accepted some of the food, bid them both good night and headed out.
He had been offered a tent, but since he wasn't going to be sleeping anyway, he had politely declined. Heading a few meters away from the camp, with its crackling fire, restlessly stomping hooves and whinnies, and the humans, he picked a tree with sprawling branches to settle under and sunk into meditation.

Almost immediately, he noticed something was wrong. His qi flow was stuttering and uneven, churning like a creek running over sharp and jagged rocks instead of the calm, broad river he had gotten used to. When it reached his chest, it swirled and disappeared.

Following the rapids to their source, he found the fight had cracked open part of his foundations. The feeling of someone sucking the qi out of him with a straw quicker than he could regenerate it stemmed from a small, ravenous demonic core beneath those cracks, newly sprouted in the strain of the fight.

His first reaction was rage. Yan Wushi had actually planted a demonic core in him again.

His second one was a twinge of annoyance with himself, because he really should have seen that coming.

His third one, as he carefully stitched around the new tears in his formerly pristine solarity-based foundations, was calming down and thinking.

He really didn't want to have to burn out his foundations a third time. Considering the immense strain on the body, considering his suspicion that he literally had to raise himself from the dead afterwards, he also wasn't sure if it was something to be attempted more than once in a lifetime. Carefully, he pressed a psychic thumb over the newly sprouting thing and squashed it down, confining it again in its little mould.

He had been lucky today. The next time he had to fight near his limits, it would definitely erupt again, growing and consuming and breaking through his foundation like tree roots through the walls of a house.
He pondered the problem all the way to Jiankang.

Mission accomplished, Official delighted, and letter delivered, Shen Qiao had some free time to explore the city. He did so at leisure. When his and Yan Wushi's paths crossed on the way out or in, they usually took a meal together, discussing everything from politics over philosophy to martial arts.

When the topic of Ruyan Kehui came up naturally, Shen Qiao took the liberty to ask, "Are you really planning on fighting him?"

Setting down his chopsticks, Yan Wushi raised his eyebrows. "I thought that was the entire reason you were traveling with us."

Shen Qiao gestured dismissively. "In part, yes. But considering the flaw in your demonic core, is it really a good idea?"

Yan Wushi's tea cup froze halfway to his mouth.

Shen Qiao could feel the levity trickle out of the atmosphere, so he just pushed further. "If it helps, I can tell you about the parts of the Zhuyang Ce I remember. It might be faster than for you to read it from my fighting style."

Yan Wushi recovered from the surprise and set his cup down. "No, I've actually gotten a pretty good read on it by now. You comprehended way more than Kunye did -" No surprise there, Shen Qiao thought, unlike Kunye and his past self, he had read all five books. "- and I already figured out a temporary solution. The duel is a good chance to test it out."

Mulling it over, Shen Qiao realized Yan Wushi must have looked at the tapestry of his cultivation and somehow picked out the thread that corresponded to the book on demonic cultivation practices. It really was impressive.

"Well," he said. "I'm glad to be at least useful for something."

Yan Wushi smiled and reached for his wrist. Stroking his thumb along the inside, he said, "Now that I think about it, there are a few more things you could do for me ..."

Ears burning, Shen Qiao yanked his wrist back. "No, thank you."

Yan Wushi clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "How rude. Don't you know there's dozens of people here who would pounce on that offer?"

Angrily, Shen Qiao shook his sleeve back over his wrist. "Then I kindly request you seek out one of them!"

The challenge finally arrived. Feeling nostalgic, Shen Qiao bet a small sum of money on the outcome of the duel, only seeing afterwards that the odds for "both injured, but Yan Wushi wins" were at 20:1.

Well.

At least the sum he had bet was small enough he wouldn't be bankrupring them.

Unlike last time, nobody had come to talk to him - he hadn't shown his face at the banquet, and "nameless traveler in Yuwen Qing's party" just didn't have the same ring to it as "former sect leader and current boytoy who fought Duan Wenyang to a draw when nobody else could."

He watched the duel from the spot Bai Rong had taken him to last time, but remained alone there. It seemed she had found something more important to do.

Watching the fight, the question of the demonic core began to gnaw at him again. The problem behind it was not too different from Yan Wushi's, actually; seeing as it was meant to make him function as a lab rat, that was completely intentional.
Yan Wushi was accumulating energy into a vessel - improving and expanding the demonic core in his body - and was nearing the end of his physical capacity. If he didn't find a solution, he would have to stop anything that could improve his cultivational progress - including fights, as these could lead to breakthroughs - or accept his demise by explosive qi deviation.

Shen Qiao's problem was the inverse: instead of continuing to grow the demonic core inside of him, he wanted to remove it completely without damaging his own cultivation in the process. But essentially, they both wanted to keep their demonic core from destroying their cultivation by growing through its limits.

From the fight, it was evident Yan Wushi really had found a temporary solution; he was barely holding back at all, using their surroundings to hammer blow after blow against Ruyan Kehui's defenses. Rock face exploding into white powder and dust, the waterfalls around them freezing in time when a particularly strong hit connected before bursting outwards from the force, dazzling in the sunlight - it truly looked like two immortals locked into combat far above the mortal world.

When a hermit crab grew too large for its shell, it crawled out and found a new one.
When a clam wanted to grow, it added a layer of chalk on the outer edges of its shell to give itself more space, tilting back the rest of the shell slightly.
Clearly, Yan Wushi could neither find himself a larger body nor just grow at will, but Shen Qiao thought he knew what he had done last time. Much like the net of blood vessels running through a body, the meridian were flowing with qi - by expanding and adding more side branches to them, one could achieve a better saturation of the body while also holding more qi. Additionally, solarity based qi was superior in quality to most people's: instead of trying to force a higher amount of qi into his body, Yan Wushi would in time be able to condense his qi more quickly than he accumulated more, effectively solving the overflow problem forever.

However, he wasn't doing that right now.

Watching closely, Shen Qiao first noticed Yan Wushi was starting to throw far more energy into his attacks than necessary, some of it dissipating harmlessly as gusts of wind.
Then he realized what seemed wasteful at first glance was actually a method of burning off the excess.

However, it was far more controlled than randomized explosions, and it also visibly wasn't hurting him. So what was it Yan Wushi was doing?

Ah. Solarity qi was the closest to natural qi, which was in and passed through all living beings. As such, Yan Wushi could just let it seep through his physical limitations and keep it around his body for a few moments before throwing it at Ruyan Kehui.
It was inefficient, but it didn't kill him. Temporary solution, indeed.

Turning both of these things over in his mind, Shen Qiao felt an idea take shape.

Listening in on himself, he sunk into a light meditation to feel out his core, sorting out what was him and what was alien.
Careful not to disturb the equilibrium inside of him, Shen Qiao summoned up a layer of solarity qi, gentle and unrefined, between him and the outermost edges of the demonic core.
As the qi solidified, he could feel its slow, but steady growth hesitate and come to a halt.
Daoism preached unity of man and nature; as a result, the solarity qi could pass through his own foundation like groundwater through silt, but it encountered a weak resistance where it touched the roots of the sprouting demonic core.
Carefully smoothing his qi around the core until he had it vaguely outlined, he began to exude some light, evenly distributed pressure to condense it.
What he ended up with was more like a sheet of cotton than an iron wall, but with time and patience, he would be able to layer it on like mother-of-pearl around a grain of sand, until there was a solid, tangible barrier between his foundation and the intruder. It would prevent it from growing and isolate it, and in time ...

Shen Qiao opened his eyes. With his next breath, a wave of dizziness hit him and almost threw him to his knees. Vaguely he realized the fight was still ongoing, but he wouldn't absorb much more of it.

Still, a feeling of lightness and airiness had taken up residence in him, as if he could move and breathe far more easily. Some part of him recognized he had just had a breakthrough.

Chapter Text

In a cave in the mountains surrounding Jiankang, Yan Wushi dropped into meditation to do some damage assessment. He had not left the duel unscathed, but the flaw in his demonic core -

Is that a good idea? With the flaw in your -

- hadn't flared up until the very last moments, when he had let himself get carried away pushing his advantage. Ruyan Kehui's injuries would likely take months to heal, while his own were a matter of days to fix.

He got to work, leaving a part of himself alert to any possible threats. After a while, he could hear heavy steps nearing the cave, followed by a thunk and the sound of a body crumpling. A few moments later, the quiet echo of much lighter steps reached him from the mouth of the cave.
Subconsciously, he readied himself for an attack, but he was determined to stay in meditation for as long as possible. Every second he got now would make it easier to heal his injuries fully later.

The steps returned to the entrance and waited there. For several minutes, nothing else was forthcoming.
Yan Wushi mentally shrugged and decided the entire thing was none of his business until he actually had to defend himself.

After ascertaining Yan Wushi really was inside, Bai Rong inspected the mouth of the cave. A well aimed palm strike shook the walls.
With a mighty rumble, the ceiling crashed down, blocking the entrance almost completely. From above, a slide of dirt and rocks fell on top of the boulders.
When the dust had settled and the structure had stabilized, Bai Rong carefully opened up a sliver of the passage again, just broad enough to allow one adult at once to slip through.

Walking back to where the cave broadened again, Bai Rong leaned into the space behind one of the boulders and settled in to wait.

The first black-clad attacker climbed in through the opening and received a cloud of sweet smelling powder for his troubles, hitting him and the two people following him in the face.
Coughing, they began to sway and stumble, going down like felled trees after mere seconds.
From the outside, shouting began to filter in.

Bai Rong's smile was like a slash in the dark. Pulling back her sleeves, she readied herself for the next wave.

After the bodies of about fifteen or sixteen incapacitated fighters littered the floor of the cave, making the entrance an even tighter fit, there was a break in attacks.

Calming her breathing, Bai Rong straightened up and narrowed her eyes in the direction of the entrance. On one hand, she didn't want to be taken unawares. On the other, if she ruined looked her night vision by lookinh directly at the daylight streaming in from the outside, she would lose one of her advantages.

Slow steps from the tunnel echoed and came to a halt. A shadow stretched over the strip of light falling through the entrance onto the floor of the cave.

"You," Bai Rong said, teeth bared in a smile.

"Bai-zongzhu," the newcomer responded mildly. "It has been a while. Have you been well?"

"Exceedingly," Bai Rong said with venomous sweetness, wishing she hadn't run out of narcotics yet.

"I must say, this is very discourteous of you. I must ask you to stand aside at once."

Bai Rong laughed. The sound bounced back from the walls and multiplied until it seemed like there was an army of her. "How stupid do you think I am? If you kill him, I'm next! Never mind that you wouldn't just let me go if I surrendered now."

The figure clucked their tongue. "Helping Yan Wushi, what the world has come to. And you're not even getting help from his devoted friend, Shen Qiao!"

Bai Rong smiled blandly. She was also wondering why Shen Qiao hadn't shown up yet - did he just implicitly assume she wasn't going to attempt to kill Yan Wushi again? Had he believed it when Yan Wushi had said he had never been in need of any help? That hadn't been a complete lie, but at the very least a serious exaggeration!

"I had a chat with your Shizun recently," the figure said meaningfully. "Of course he isn't going to be a match for you much longer - two or three years at the most - but it really would be a shame if I had to tell him you were siding with Yan Wushi of all people."

Bai Rong grimaced, but shifted into an attack position without making a sound.

"Well, are you going to get out of the way?"

There was a smile in the shadow's voice, and Bai Rong felt hate jump directly into her throat and lodge itself there. It was like they thought she was a child that could be cowed by the mere mention of her parents. Like they had her completely under their thumb.

Purposely throwing her voice so it would sound like she was standing somewhere else, she called out, "I would prefer not to."

The shadow sighed mournfully. "So be it."

Bai Rong tensed in anticipation. The fight would be a close one, the worst she had attempted since the start of the time shift.

To her complete surprise, the steps just echoed as the shadow exited the narrow tunnel again. Baffled, she waited for the other shoe to drop, but nobody tried to enter the cave.

A few minutes later, the first wisps of smoke curled into the entrance, accompanied by the sweet, cloying scent of narcotic incense.

Silently, Bai Rong cursed whichever martial artist had ever come up with using knock-out drugs on cultivators, conveniently forgetting she frequently used them herself to great success.

Silently, she withdrew deeper into the cave to look for other exits.

Shen Qiao uncrossed his legs and stretched. He had left the duel in favor of finding a quiet spot to go through his sword forms and meditate to process his newfound insights.

The lack of noise from the other side of the city told him the fight had ended.

Good. As he had found out later on, part of the reason Ruyan Kehui had challenged Yan Wushi was to test if Guang Lingsan's words about the flaw in all sufficiently developed demonic cores could be trusted.
He didn't know exactly when or where Ruyan Kehui was going to pass on that information to the participants of the ambush, but it would make sense for him to do it before he went into a month-long closed door meditation to recover from his injuries.
It further followed that Duan Wenyang would be there, as one of the driving forces behind the ambush. He would in turn know where to find Kunye.
Shen Qiao stretched one last time, rose to his feet, and made for Linchuan Academy.

"The flaw in his core is small, but definitely present," said Academy Master Ruyan Kehui in a hoarse voice. He was leaning back in a chair, his face unnaturally pale while a physician was taking his pulse, taking notes with a frown, and mixing together some kind of medicine. "It didn't show up until he really strained himself and became distracted, so you will have to be clever fighting him. Still, I have no doubt your group will be able to subdue him if you work together."

The man across from him saluted. "Many thanks to Academy Master Ruyan. With this information, I'm sure we'll be able to take down that scourge of the cultivation world."

A loud knock sounded from the door.

"Leave it," Ruyan Kehui said without opening his eyes. "Whatever it is, it can wait ..."

A clamor rose outside. Somebody shouted for backup.
A second later, the wall shook as if someone had been thrown into it with great force.

After another moment of silence, the door opened to reveal a man in daoist robes, a sheathed longsword visible over his shoulder.

"Academy Master Ruyan," he greeted politely. Then his gaze went straight to the other man.

"What a surprise to see you here," he said, voice cooling considerably. "Kunye."

"I admit I expected to see your Shixiong," Shen Qiao said.

Kunye smiled, his eyes hard. "I'm afraid he lost some favor when he failed to obtain the ring our Shizun sent him for."

"How fortunate for me."

"Your Shimei declared you dead at that same banquet, though," Kunye said with glittering eyes.

"She'll be overjoyed to learn otherwise," replied Shen Qiao. "Unlike Yu Ai. Now, allow me to ask you for the honor of a rematch."

Kunye smiled and unsheathed his sabre. "I'm looking forward to it."

Ruyan Kehui looked like he wanted to protest, but Kunye had already slashed his blade vertically and sent a sword glare at Shen Qiao.

Shen Qiao tapped his foot and landed some ten meters down the hallway, the sword glare narrowly making it through the door and breaking on the wall next to him. Leaping over the balustrade, he landed in the entrance hall, reaching for the hilt of Shanhe Tongbei. Kunye followed, for a second balancing on the handrail above.

"Senior Shen!" Xie Xiang yelled, running into the hall from a side corridor. Behind him followed his shidi Zhan Ziqian, the painter.

Shen Qiao unleashed a strike upwards. Kunye blocked, but the force threw him backwards.

"Senior Shen, please listen," began Xie Xiang.

Shen Qiao paused.

Kunye took the momentary reprieve to catch his breath. The blow had knocked the wind out of him and had him almost swallow blood. Was it really possible Shen Qiao had recovered this quickly?
Kunye's pride had balked at the thought of needing to cheat to beat Shen Qiao, but now he was realizing he might actually be outmatched.

Xie Xiang came to a halt at the edge of the fighting zone. "If you two fight in here, I'm afraid the building won't be able to take it. Would it be terribly inconvenient for you to ..."

"Sure," Kunye said easily, making sure his voice came out strong and steady. "Let's take this outside."
If he could somehow reach Duan Wenyang ...

Without waiting for Shen Qiao, he took a running leap towards the portal and left.

Shen Qiao gave a court nod to Xie Xiang, whose shoulders dropped in relief.

Then Shen Qiao set off in pursuit.

Chapter Text

Bai Rong discovered there were two other entrances right around the time smoke was beginning to billow out of them as well.
So their enemies had done their homework and were coming prepared. Lovely.

Part of her wanted to drag one of her former students here and point to the ambush, saying See? This is how you plan ahead. This is how you avoid unnecessary fighting.
The rest of her just wanted to curse up a storm.

She circled back to Yan Wushi to check if the smoke had reached him yet, but he seemed to have chosen his spot well. The poison was slow to reach the chamber he was in, and the plumes of smoke that did collected above him under the high ceiling.

Bai Rong made some guesses and mentally ran the numbers.
If their opponents had gone through the effort of finding and blocking all three of the entrances, then hoping they had somehow not brought enough incense with them to fill the entire cave was foolish, no matter how big it was.
Her only comfort was that with the considerable size of the cave, it would take a long time to reach that point, an hour on the low end, six if she was lucky.
How long had it taken Yan Wushi to wake up last time? She really wished she had asked Shen Qiao.

The next problem, of course, was that then she would be locked into a cave together with Yan Wushi, a state which was dubiously survivable. Perhaps she would be able to request some temporary ceasefire on the grounds of their mutual relationship with Shen Qiao, but seeing as Shen Qiao for some reason wasn't showing up, she wasn't even sure of that.

So the ideal outcome was still for Shen Qiao to drop by before their time was up.

Bai Rong pursed her mouth and went to check the pockets of her earlier victims near the entrance for something useful.

Kunye leapt through the trees, gaining height with every jump until he was rushing past between the tree tops.

He turned around in mid-air to search for Shen Qiao and delivered a swift blow in the direction of the silhouette racing along on the ground. The attack flashed through the branches and trees while Kunye touched back down and took off again.
The next time he looked, the shadow had vanished.
Grimly, he accelerated.
His hand caught on the top of a tall pine tree, stopping just in time so he didn't run into the blinding sheet of white that erupted from beneath his feet.
For a second, he hastily grappled for balance. The light burst out into the sky like a lethal halo before it dissipated.
Then the part of the tree he was standing on began to slide off its stump. He lunged for the next one and rushed onwards.
A look backwards revealed the sword glare had left a clean cut, diagonally up from the forest floor, through the trunks of several trees.

Shen Qiao appeared from the shadows of the forest, his daoist robes fluttering in the breeze.

Kunye would never be able to look at that particular type of clothing the same way again.

Using the severed tree stumps as stepping stones, Shen Qiao began to also gain height, and Kunye realized with mounting horror that he was gaining on him.

Impossible - it had been less than two years since his fall from Banbu Peak!

Desperately, he sent out another sword glare of his own. Their camp was only a few kilometers more to the west, if he could -

Shen Qiao leapt higher, letting the attack pass harmlessly below his feet, and Kunye really wished someone had warned him about the kind of demon he would be summoning by using Joyful Reunion on that opponent.

A powerful palm strike knocked into him as a gust of wind and threw him off course. Crashing down through the trees, Kunye desperately tried to catch something to hold onto.

Before he could, something grabbed him by the collar and pushed him down.

He hit the ground in front of a large tree painfully, followed almost soundlessly by Shen Qiao only a few steps away.

Kunye's breathing was ragged. He thought he had broken one or several ribs in the fall.

"Why are you doing this?" he croaked, watching Shen Qiao approach with long steps. Perhaps the most eerie thing was the complete lack of anger or malice on his face, only focus.

"The massacre at Bixia Sect cannot be allowed to happen," Shen Qiao said matter-of-factly.

Kunye scrambled up into a sitting position against the tree. "We'll leave them alone! I'll call our martial artists off immediately! Just let me -"

Tonelessly, Shen Qiao said, "How can I trust the words of someone who uses poison to win a duel?"

Shen Qiao's left hand came down on Kunye's shoulder, thumb pressing almost gently below his collar bone, but Kunye could feel his martial arts start to disintegrate from that point of contact.

Still looking down on him with that calm, resolute face, Shen Qiao raised his right hand, probably to end the technique, the fight, and Kunye's life.

Out of nowhere, the cord of a whip cracked and wrapped around his wrist, yanking and stopping the motion in mid air.

"Shixiong!" shouted Kunye hoarsely, in panic, scrambling to get up against the tree, to get out and away. Inside of him, he could feel the last sparks of his foundation glimmer and cool to ash.

To his immense relief and terror, Shen Qiao turned to face the new threat.

"I thought the sword glare I saw was familiar," Duan Wenyang said grimly. "Haven't we met before at the Su family residence?"

Shen Qiao yanked at his arm and used the momentary slack to free himself of the whipcord's snare. Immediately, he backed up a few steps to get out of the whip's range.

"Perhaps it's wrong to expect someone whose shidi betrayed him to understand," Duan Wenyang said coldly, beginning to circle. "but that's my shidi you're attacking, and you're either going to leave here of your own volition now, or stay forever in pieces!"

Shen Qiao jumped backwards to dodge the attack leveled at him, but felt a little wrong-footed.

Between Kunye and Duan Wenyang, the latter was the older one, first in seniority as well as in skill. However, due to his Han ancestry, he was held in lower regard than his shidi, who boasted a higher political rank, commanded more respect, and was generally trusted more with the truly important missions.

Duan Wenyang had every reason to grow bitter and resentful in the face of that injustice, but here he was, risking life and limb for his shidi instead.

At the sight, Shen Qiao couldn't help but feel moved a little. The feeling was bittersweet, tinged with sadness for himself and his martial brothers.

He weighed his options. He was tired from the chase - part of why he had pushed so aggressively to finish it had been because he had felt himself start to flag - and victory against Duan Wenyang now was uncertain.

If he pushed a little more, he could probably still kill Kunye and then extricate himself. As he knew from experience, it was far more difficult to fight while protecting someone else, especially when the other person was helpless.

However, Kunye had already lost his martial arts. If he ever became a threat again, it would be years, if not decades from now. Letting him live also held the advantage that Duan Wenyang wouldn't pursue him afterwards, instead focusing on his shidi's recovery.

And, if he was honest, he just didn't want to.

Making a decision, Shen Qiao blocked the next incoming attack and moved away from Kunye, far enough that Duan Wenyang could safely slip between them.

"Your protectiveness does you credit," Shen Qiao said softly, keeping his sword intentionally lowered while Duan Wenyang warily came closer to check over his shidi's injuries. "He is fortunate to have a shixiong such as you."

Duan Wenyang, who was in the process of settling Kunye on his back and slinging his arms around his neck, threw him a suspicious look.

Shen Qiao's face remained unmoved, perhaps only traced with a hint of sadness. Then he blinked and smoothed it out again.
"Take good care of each other," he said, voice back to its usual firmness and holding an air of finality.
In one smooth motion, he sheathed Shanhe Tongbei, then turned away from them and disappeared into the trees, in the direction of the city.

Duan Wenyang let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.
Moving carefully so he didn't jostle his shidi, he began making his way back in the other direction, towards their camp.

Shen Qiao turned his thoughts back onto the situation in the city. Yan Wushi had made it clear last time he didn't need any help, and with the temporary fix for his cultivation, his injuries probably weren't even worth mentioning.
Still, it couldn't hurt to check, he decided when he heard whispers about Yan Wushi disappearing after the duel while he strolled through the city.

On a whim, he bought several sticks of tangren and stored them away in a paper bag. Maybe he could hand them to Yan Wushi as a joke to congratulate him on his victory.

The sun was already low in the sky and he was getting ready to search every single cave in the mountains around Jiankang, when he discovered a group of four or five people in dark clothing standing around a crevice, carefully tending to a campfire in the opening and fanning the smoke into the tunnel.

Shen Qiao approached them. "May I ask what you're doing?"

"I recommend that you mind your own business," the leader said brusquely.

Shen Qiao mustered the fire, the smoke, and what looked like the side entrance to a cave.

There weren't that many people who inspired this kind of effort in trying to kill them.

"I think I will," replied Shen Qiao and knocked him out.

The rest of the fight took almost ten minutes. None of the martial artists were outstanding, but Shen Qiao was significantly outnumbered and tired enough for it to matter.

After kicking out the campfire and stealing one of the fabric masks they had been wearing, he hurried into the tunnel. During the fight, nobody had been fanning the smoke inside, so it had risen high into the air instead, warning anyone else in the area there was something wrong.
There was no time to lose.

Inside, he found Bai Rong curled up next to Yan Wushi. Out of discarded clothing, she had fashioned an improvised smoke filter. She was glaring balefully through the smoke, but her eyes were still clear.

Shen Qiao's heart skipped a beat of worry before calming. Bai Rong was a lot stronger than she had been the last time, but confusingly, Yan Wushi seemed completely unharmed.

"Shen-lang, what took you so long?" Bai Rong rasped.

Shen Qiao looked around and blinked. "My apologies. Shall we start finishing this up?"

Bai Rong rose to her feet and rolled her shoulders.

A second later, the rocks in front of the entrance burst outwards in a wave of qi.

In the settling dust appeared the shapes of Shen Qiao and Bai Rong, lowering their hands in sync.

The sight alone was enough to send their enemies scattering. For the rest, Bai Rong and Shen Qiao made quick work of them.

Bai Rong noticed Shen Qiao kept sending her mildly baffled looks. In her most childish manner, she threw her hair over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out. "What are you looking at? If he dies now, someone else needs to kill Hulugu. Who do you think is going to, me?" She harrumphed and turned to block something, sending an attacker skittering back. "Watch out!"

Shen Qiao returned to the fight. It didn't take much longer.

Finally, Bai Rong wiped her hands on her sleeves and exhaled deeply.

"Looks like the leader left already," she said. "He must have realized you were coming and decided he didn't want to fight us both."

"I got held up and didn't expect there would be any danger at all." Shen Qiao bowed formally. "Thank you."

Bai Rong waved him off. "It's alright, you didn't know," she said, looking a little relieved. "I should finally tell you about what's going on, though, so we can avoid this kind of thing from now on."

Shen Qiao nodded as they both turned back to the cave.

"I do wonder what sent the last few running, though," Bai Rong mused. "They looked like they had seen some sort of demon -" Her gaze went past Shen Qiao's shoulder. She yelped and went pale.

The next moment, she was gone - in a frankly impressive display of qinggong, if Shen Qiao might be so bold.

Turning around, Shen Qiao came face to face with Yan Wushi, who had apparently finished his meditation.

"Yan-zongzhu," Shen Qiao greeted. He would just have to speak to Bai Rong the next time he saw her.

Yan Wushi mustered him sharply. "What was that about her needing me to kill Hulugu?"

"She's planning ahead," Shen Qiao said.

"And about him being alive?"

Shen Qiao nodded seriously. "He is. It will become a problem."

"I know," Yan Wushi replied, rolling his eyes. "Qi Fengge didn't kill him, and with how bold the Tujue have been recently, it's clear they still have his protection. The question is, how does Bai Rong know that?"

Instead of responding, Shen Qiao asked, "if you were listening the entire time, why didn't you come out sooner?"

Yan Wushi shrugged. "It's like a dislocated shoulder - the longer you wait to put it back, the harder it gets afterwards and the longer it takes to heal. If the smoke had gotten to the point where it threatened me, I would have acted, but like this, what reason did I have to get involved?"

So if Bai Rong had dragged you into the smoke, you would have woken up and helped instead of leaving her to do all the work? Shen Qiao found he was speechless.

Again, Yan Wushi rolled his eyes. "You don't really believe what she did was selfless, do you? It's obvious she has history with them, and it was an opportunity for her to take them down a notch or two. It definitely wasn't about rescuing me or doing you a favor."

While that might be true, as with his rescue from Banbu peak, Shen Qiao had immensely benefitted from Bai Rong defending Yan Wushi in his absence - and he knew a little better what was going on than Yan Wushi.

Bai Rong had probably expected him to be present and assumed she couldn't kill Yan Wushi before he arrived. Her best option had been to work together with him to fight their common enemy.

When he hadn't shown up, Bai Rong had already been in the same boat as Yan Wushi and didn't want to deprive herself of a possible ally to get out of the cave.

Nonetheless, she could have chosen to hide herself instead while the people in black killed or attempted to kill Yan Wushi - even injured, he was a formidable foe - and only step in when it became clear he needed help, if he did at all.
Shen Qiao doubted it would have made any difference to Yan Wushi's chances of beating Hulugu if he had had to fight some more here and now.

Shen Qiao quietly decided he owed Bai Rong a favor.

Seeing as Shen Qiao said nothing, Yan Wushi clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Then his eyes fell to Shen Qiao's pocket. From the movement during the fight, the paper bag with the tangren had shifted around so it was poking out at the top, and the wooden sticks with the sweets were clearly visible over the edge.

"And who did you buy the tangren for. Is Bai Rong really such a child she still eats it?"

Without answering, Shen Qiao shoved the bag deeper into his pocket.

This man really was impossible.

Chapter Text

After returning to the guest quarters, Yan Wushi retired to his rooms. Despite mostly having meditated his injuries away, he was still exhausted.

So Shen Qiao set out into the city again and, by chance, came past the gambling house where he had made his bet this morning.
He went in. As it turned out, news that Yan Wushi had been seen outside again after the fight, pale but on his feet, had made it around the city already, and so the outcome was considered proven.
He hadn't bet that much, but the astronomical odds had turned it into a decent sum.

Exiting the establishment, Shen Qiao pondered his options.

White Dragon Monastery heard a knock on their door early in the evening, the sun still a short while away from setting.

The visitor was friendly, polite, and patient when he inquired about the abbot's disciples. When he heard there was only one, Chuyi, he looked a little disappointed, but he warmed up to the boy quickly.
Upon being invited to dinner, the stranger politely declined. He did declare he wanted to make a donation to the monastery, under the vague explanation of a favor he had received from them at some point. He also requested the abbott keep his eyes open for a young boy of about twelve years who might come through the area with his parents.

After the negotiations concluded, the visitor left with a strongly worded hint the abbot should go talk to his origin sect, but not before accidentally ensuring Chuyi's eternal loyalty with a paper bag filled with tangren.

All in all, the abbott thought this Mr Shen was a rather strange fellow.

The sum Shen Qiao had agreed upon with the abbot was still only about three quarters of his winnings.
Since supernatural foreknowledge was probably equally illegal as listening to the dice, he decided he might as well find a way to pass it back to the gambling house.

He exchanged the money for chips of polished wood at the entrance and, for the sake of fairness, also requested a pair of ear plugs. The clerk looked a little baffled, but he was trained well enough to hide it quickly and managed to acquire two pieces of fabric coated with wax that worked sufficiently well.

There was a table that offered the same game Yan Wushi had once introduced him to.
He bet on small and won. He bet on big and won. He bet on the numbers 2,2,1 specifically and lost. He bet on big and won again. Shen Qiao pursed his lips.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw someone slide into the seat to his right and lean forward to catch his attention.

Turning towards the newcomer, Shen Qiao took out one of his ear plugs to hear what he was saying.

The stranger was handsome in the carefree way of a young noble with nothing but money and time at his hands. His smile lit an amused spark in his eyes that made people want to like him while hoping they would never need to rely on him. In short, he had the look of a man-about-town.

"You're winning and still looking so frosty?"

Shen Qiao inclined his head towards him to indicate he'd heard. "I told myself I'd lose this amount of money and then leave. It's taking me longer than expected."

The guy laughed at that. It was certainly an unusual approach. "Alright, what's with the earplugs then?"

"I've learned how to listen to the dice," Shen Qiao said.

The stranger shrugged. "Yes? And? I hardly think they're going to kick you out for cheating in their favor."

Shen Qiao's smile became a little faraway. "A person who was dear to me once said it ruins the game. And I think they were right."

"So even if you have the chance to know what's coming, you'll choose not to?" The stranger tilted his head in fascination.

For a moment, Shen Qiao was stunned into silence. Then he laughed quietly. "It depends. For matters of strategy, of course one should find out as much as they can. For other things, though, it's just better not to know and let oneself be surprised."

The stranger nodded knowingly. "Like gambling and love?"

Shen Qiao gave a surprised blink. "Yes ..." he said slowly. "But what has the one to do with the other?"

"Ah, don't you know what they say about people who are lucky at dice?" The stranger wagged his finger playfully.
At Shen Qiao's uncomprehending face, he just shrugged. "Never mind then. If you're trying to lose money, let's go over to the next table, the odds are even worse than here. Have you ever played that game before ...?"

They spent the night that way, wandering from one game table to the other until the sun was tentatively peeking over the mountains.
When the gambling house finally closed for the morning hours, Shen Qiao's stack of chips had grown and shrunk in size several times, but he hadn't ever managed to empty it.
He'd been too good at some of the strategy games, so they had dropped those quickly, but he had also had a series of winning streaks, only interrupted by occasional, costly setbacks. The stranger had clicked his tongue in mock disapproval, but had seemed to find the affair as a whole rather funny.

At the front door, the stranger and him finally bid each other farewell.

"Thank you for your assistance," Shen Qiao said, politely cupping his hands at him.

"It's not like I managed to be very helpful, did I?" the stranger replied, grinning. "It was great fun while it lasted, though. Let me know if you're ever in town again!"

With those words, he disappeared down the street, only a little unsteady on his feet after an entire night without sleep.

From behind Shen Qiao, Yan Wushi clicked his tongue at him. "Staying out the entire night to gamble, huh? Somehow I wouldn't have expected that from you."

Still looking after the stranger, Shen Qiao shook his head with a faint smile before bringing his gaze back to the present. "The people you meet are interesting," he demurred, then hesitated.

"Yan-zongzhu, what do they say about people who have good luck at dice?"

There was a bit of a shadow around Yan Wushi's eyes, but the question startled a laugh out of him. Without waiting for his permission, Yan Wushi took his sleeve and whisked him away for breakfast.

Chapter Text

When Yan Wushi woke him up in the evening by locking his acupoints and picking him up, Shen Qiao didn't even pretend to be surprised.
It was a few weeks to early, they weren't back to Chang'an yet, but that didn't change the fact he had been waiting for this.
Definitely since their journey to Jiankang. Probably when he had woken up next to Yan Wushi. Perhaps even all the way back when he had broken down his foundations in Funing County.

Yan Wushi carried him through the city, over the outer wall in one long jump, and to a clearing in the woods on the side of one of the surrounding mountains, just to set him down in the grass and leaning him against a large, smooth boulder.
The shadows were stretching longer and longer, but the clearing was just steep enough they had a charming view of Jiankang.

Yan Wushi had been making idle conversation all the way, chatting with faux amicability about this and that and who they were meeting.

Shen Qiao knew who they were meeting.
He looked at the sunset instead.

It was lovely to look at, lining the edge of the mountains in red and setting fire to the shining rooftops of the city, covering the hustle and bustle of the evening in a warm glow.
The sky was ablaze in hues of orange and pink as the day neared its end.

Shen Qiao couldn't look at it for too long. Whenever he closed his eyes, the afterimage burned behind his eyelids, colorful spots overtaking his vision.
How fitting: the end of something, fiery and marvelous.

"I just remembered, I need to give you something," Shen Qiao suddenly said into a lull in their otherwise one-sided conversation. "Can I have the use of one of my arms back?"

Yan Wushi obligingly unlocked one of his acupoints, letting the feeling rush back into his left arm. It was inconvenient, but it would do.

Closing his eyes, Shen Qiao pressed his hand to the front of his lower dantian, curling the fingers in a deliberate motion. Slowly, carefully, he began to loosen the root system of pulsating, forked and twisting black tentacles that had grown there.

His demonic core had stretched a little further over the past day, more during the fight at the cave, but he had successfully managed to isolate it.

The parts he was pulling free were radiating horridly oily qi, like a fire burning something unclean. When he reached the ends, they stayed caught in his skin for another moment before sliding out with a gentle tug, the hooks at the tips only slightly bloody.

Freed from their fleshy nutrient soil, the strands were losing their physicality quickly, turning smokey and translucent as they petulantly curled back around the core he was keeping firmly in his closed fist. The pin-prick wounds on his abdomen stung faintly while they were trying to close, but it was difficult with most of his acupoints sealed and his qi flow obstructed.

"I believe this is yours," Shen Qiao said calmly.

From afar, there was a low, reverberating boom.

"Keep it," Yan Wushi said, having watched the whole process with a sort of mild curiosity. He tugged his gaze up from the core to Shen Qiao's eyes and lifted the corners of his mouth. Shen Qiao recognized it as the challenge it was. "Consider it a souvenir."

Without breaking eye contact, Shen Qiao channeled qi into his hand until it glowed white hot. The smoke strands turned into strips of black silk that fluttered erratically around his fingers. As the light grew brighter, it was accompanied by a high-pitched whine that could be a shriek or maybe just steam escaping his grip.

After a few moments, the noise died.
Shen Qiao opened his hand and shook a few crumbs of ash out of his palm.
When he finished, Yan Wushi was still smiling at him, but was not like his usual ones; Shen Qiao couldn't read it.

Done with the point he was making, Shen Qiao closed his eyes and leaned back against his rock. It was still warm from thr evening sun, but the surface was rapidly cooling.

They had nothing more to say to each other.

The sun had disappeared quietly, the moon risen higher in the sky, and yet there was still no sign of Sang Jingxing.

Finally, Yan Wushi clicked his tongue in impatience and shook his head. "Late as always. I suppose I shouldn't have expected better."

Sweeping up Shen Qiao again, he traversed wide stretches of land with every jump effortlessly, moving in the direction of the earlier noise.
Silently, Shen Qiao agreed with that assessment - extremely loud noise when there was no natural reason for it was evidence for martial artists, and if Sang Jingxing had been held up, this was their best bet.

They approached the ruin of a temple so fresh it was still smoking. Part of a wall crumbled and collapsed even as they neared.

On top of a different, only mostly ruined wall appeared Bai Rong and sank down into a seated position, dangling one foot over the edge and leaning back in an imitation of relaxation. Her movements were as easy as ever, but she was looking a little frazzled, small strands coming loose from her buns and crumbs of mortar on her sleeve.

"Yan-zongzhu, Shen-daozhang," she said, her eyes looking somewhat crazed. "What a coincidence. What are you doing here?"

Yan Wushi hadn't set him down again yet, and though Shen Qiao shifted his freed arm slightly to remind him, he didn't seem to want to change it anytime soon.

Yan Wushi seemed unbothered when he smiled, showing a little too many teeth. "I'm here for what's mine."

You damn fool, Bai Rong was thinking, you absolute moron, you monumental idiot.
Well, it's your loss.

Bai Rong looked down and then pried a stone out of the wall. Taking aim, she threw it on the ground behind it. The shot flipped a magnificent sword up in the air, which she caught with ease.

"Is it this sword, by any chance?"

Yan Wushi's eyes narrowed. "That was the proposed trade, yes," he said slowly. "Though I have to admit I was expecting Yuan Xiuxiu's second in command to come see me in person."

"Of course," Bai Rong said, eyes glinting. "You're a very important guest, nothing less would do." She settled the sword across her lap and pressed a finger against the crossguard, unsheathing an inch of the blade.
"That's exactly why I'm here."

Yan Wushi smiled thinly.
"Then perhaps I should say I was expecting the future leader of Harmony Sect."

Bai Rong's smile stayed exactly the same as she enunciated every word. "That's. Why. I'm. Here."

Shen Qiao's heart cramped together. From what he had gleaned from their conversations, that hadn't been the plan at all.

Yan Wushi's hands on him tightened slightly, but his voice remained in the same cool indifferent tone.
"What would your Shizun say to that?"

Bai Rong's gaze dropped like she wanted to look down behind the wall, but she caught herself at the last moment.

"Let me be honest with you, Yan-zongzhu," she said, cutting her eyes back down to them. "I don't think he's in the right headspace to worry about that right now."

She smiled sunnily, a glint of mania buried deep beneath it, and sat up a little straighter. Shen Qiao suddenly realized her martial arts had grown exponentially since the last time he had seen her, and the qi hadn't settled yet, roiling around her and snapping at the air like wild dogs baying for blood. Both of her heels kicked against the wall in turns.

"Now. Are we making a deal? Or not?"

Chapter Text

Yan Wushi went over the situation with cool calculation. He decided he wasn't particularly happy with this turn of events.

Bai Rong had proven before that she was more skilled than her age would let on. She obviously knew Shen Qiao and they had worked together before.

She was, however, a demonic practitioner. Yan Wushi knew her and himself: Loyalty and affection were as foreign to them as rain to a desert. What was the point?

It was possible Bai Rong really did hold some affection for Shen Qiao. That alone wouldn't be enough to make her upend her life like this.

However, she just tried to replace her Shizun. Yuan Xiuxiu would try to kill her as much as she had tried to kill Sang Jingxing, and unlike him Bai Rong didn't have the same support within the sect. Having an ally like Shen Qiao who depended on her might just be the advantage she needed to turn the tide in her favor.
Shen Qiao was smart, capable, and experienced in leading a sect. If Bai Rong was this ambitious, he might on paper make a perfect second in command.

Perhaps she hoped the two of them could take over the sect together like Yuan Xiuxiu and Sang Jingxing had before their falling out, ruling together as allies and lovers.

Yan Wushi laughed sharply. Setting Shen Qiao down, he stepped forward with his hands behind his back, relaxed as if the whole thing was completely insignificant.

For a moment, he contemplated giving Shen Qiao to Yuan Xiuxiu instead. She wasn't quite as cruel as Sang Jingxing, few people were, but she also liked her men pretty and she wasn't exactly living up to the image of the gentler, fairer sex.
If Yan Wushi told her he suspected Shen Qiao had been involved in the theft of the book of free will, she would gladly rip him to pieces for it.

Nonetheless, he dropped the thought again. He was here to prove Shen Qiao's insignificance to him, so traveling across half the country to reestablish a connection with a woman he was known to dislike would send the wrong message.

If he handed Shen Qiao to Bai Rong, however ...

He eyed first Shen Qiao's slightly furrowed brow and Bai Rong's meaningless smile.
Perhaps she wasn't an immediate threat to Shen Qiao, but it was evident from the start they simply didn't fit.

Bai Rong wouldn't compromise her hunger for power for anything, definitely not for love.
Shen Qiao's rigid moral code wouldn't allow him to bend for anything, certainly not for love.

Bai Rong would continue to murder and sleep her way to the top, and Shen Qiao would try to make her change her ways.

They would fall apart sooner rather than later, and wouldn't that be interesting?

Maybe it was even better this way.

Would Bai Rong kill him out of the hatred of a broken heart or just to take care of any loose ends? Would Shen Qiao defect to the Buddhists or the Confucianists to bring her down if she succeeded in taking over Harmony Sect with all the evils that entailed?

Would this falling out be what sent Bai Rong over the edge of success and spiraling towards madness?
Would losing another friend be what finally broke Shen Qiao's spirit?

The last thought sat like a sand burrow in his chest, scratching and crawling deeper, that he himself might not be enough.
Still, if Bai Rong managed to corrupt him towards demonic cultivation, or if they fell apart over it ...

He would check in on Shen Qiao a year or two from now.

He was Yan Wushi. Nothing was out of his reach forever.

"What do you even want with him, hm?" Yan Wushi asked, his decision made. "Your Shizun wanted to crack open his foundations and salvage them for scraps, but somehow I don't think that's what you have in mind ..."

Bai Rong smiled in a way she probably thought was mysterious. "I want his help for something else," she said evasively.

Seriously, she could hardly be any more obvious.
Alright, he would put them together and pit them against each other in the same movement. Let Bai Rong think she had found an ally until she realized the only goals Shen Qiao served were the ones of his own choosing, until his earnest attempts to do good stopped being endearing and started itching like poison ivy.
Until one of them threw the other away.
Yan Wushi smiles thinly.

Bai Rong kicked off the wall and landed in the grass in front of them, brandishing Taihua like a particularly heavy umbrella.

Tilting his head, Yan Wushi said, "Do you think you can buy yourself a happy ending with him? People like you don't get one. You're not cut out for the redemption thing."

Bai Rong gave a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You needn't concern yourself with this anymore."

From the corner of her eye, Bai Rong caught Shen Qiao slowly forcing open the first two of his acupoints.

To keep Yan Wushi's attention, she mustered Taihua and pouted a little mockingly.
"It really is a nice sword, but ... I mean, is it really that good? It seems just so-so if I think about it."

Yan Wushi sneered at her, true to form. "First, it's worth your life twice over," he said with the same arrogance that usually made her want to bash his head against the negotiation table. "Second, what's mine is mine, and I'll always want it back."

When Shen Qiao could feel his right hand again again, he could unblock the acupoint on his left one himself with a well aimed pinch. He rubbed the feeling back into the limb and rolled both of his wrists.

Stealing another glance, Bai Rong held out Taihua so that Yan Wushi could take the blade out of her hands. So softly Shen Qiao almost missed it, she said, "you seem to disregard some of your things for a long time until you remember their value. What if one of them doesn't want to come back to you when that time is over?"

Yan Wushi scoffed. Mockingly, he repeated, "that needn't concern you anymore."
Before Bai Rong could answer, Shen Qiao decided to intervene. "If the two of you are done now," he said pointedly, reaching for Shanhe Tongbei and rising to his feet.
Both Yan Wushi and Bai Rong turned to look back at him.
"Sure," Bai Rong said, putting on a smile. "Shen-lang, there's some things I need to talk to you about anyways."

Something in Yan Wushi's expression twisted, but only for a moment. Then it smoothed out into his usual sneer.

Shen Qiao waited for a last comment, for him to shove the knife in one last time, but Yan Wushi just turned away wordlessly and disappeared into the woods.

Side to side, him and Bai Rong waited in silence until they could no longer hear even the quiet noise of pointed boots brushing against grass.

Chapter Text

"Shen-lang, don't be mad at me," were the first words out of Bai Rong's mouth when they were sure they were alone.

Shen Qiao gave her a questioning look.

Bai Rong just gestured for him to follow her around the wall she had been sitting on earlier.
When they turned around the corner, the first thing that came into view was a great deal of blood.
The second thing was Sang Jingxing's decapitated body.

Shen Qiao mustered him.
"I'm not," he said. "Good job."

There was another moment of silence during which they both stared at the corpse.

The severed head was lying halfway across the courtyard, evidently having been ripped off its shoulders.
Its stolen face was still eerily handsome, even with the formerly glossy hair around it clotted with blood and leaves, but in death it seemed less fused on and more like it had been haphazardly glued in place and was in danger of sliding off.

Shen Qiao frowned slightly as if he was thinking. "Weren't you going to play the long game?" Long in their case meaning up to a decade instead of less than six months since we last talked about our plans.

"Don't judge, Shen-lang," Bai Rong said tiredly. "It's not like you ever had to live with him."

"No, I just fought him," Shen Qiao agreed thoughtfully.

Bai Rong sounded uncharacteristically bitter when she responded. "Having done both, I can say with confidence that the first is worse."

Shen Qiao didn't answer. After a while, he drew his sword and stepped next to the corpse.

Bai Rong blinked in surprise. "You actually want to bury him?"

"I do. Also, the corpse will attract scavengers if we don't."

"Guess you're right." Bai Rong sighed, then perked up. "Also, if we do it ourselves, we know we put enough stones on it that he's never getting up again!"

Shen Qiao smiled when he delivered four swift cuts to the ground.

They were shoveling dirt into the grave when Shen Qiao spoke up again.
"Why did you tell Yan Wushi that you were the one who stole the ring with me?"

Bai Rong slowed. "Oh," she said after a moment. "He changed so little over the years, I keep forgetting he's twenty years younger now. Our Yan Wushi already would have known it was me."

She energetically shook her hair out of her face. "This is depressing," she declared, having noticed the slight stop in his movements. "We need to change the topic."

After a moment of silence, Shen Qiao said, "If you're trying to lose money at gambling and you don't manage, are you lucky or unlucky?"

The question surprised Bai Rong so much she laughed out loud.

When they finished up, Bai Rong expertly started up a campfire while Shen Qiao gathered some wood.
She had even brought some food they heated up to share.

While they were eating, Shen Qiao threw a sidelong glance at Bai Rong.

Her qi had settled, as if whatever had stirred it up had only been a momentary disturbance, a riverbed disturbed and cleansed by the current.

Not a qi deviation then. The hints of mania she had displayed earlier had also subsided, and she'd calmed down considerably.
Instead of asking about anything related to Sang Jingxing, Shen Qiao decided to finally revisit the conversation they hadn't finished in the cave.
"What did you want to tell me about the people in black?"

Bai Rong threw him a short look while she chewed and swallowed. "You're really asking about how to rescue Yan Wushi already? Didn't you get betrayed only a few minutes ago? It was heinous. Even I didn't know how bad it was. If it had really been my Shizun ..."

Shen Qiao shrugged. "They're just the next item on the list. They're a threat to me, too."
Besides ... Yan Wushi had left him a fighting chance last time, even if had been slim. And ... "As bad as it was, I could prepare this time. It wasn't unexpected."

Bai Rong hummed skeptically. "I was surprised that he just handed you to me, though."

Shen Qiao remained silent and looked into the fire instead.
In the old timeline, that never would have happened, but he had to admit he and Bai Rong were very different people now.

Bai Rong finished her meal and wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Alright, I should finally get to the explanation. Let's hope Yan-zongzhu is too busy to interrupt me this time."

Twenty years into the future and one timeline to the left, one Yan Wushi leaned back in his desk chair. Moodily, he eyed the stack of correspondence on his desk as if he wanted to set it on fire.
The look would have made every single martial artist in the central plains and beyond quiver in their boots.

The stack of mail deserved far worse for the grave crime of not containing a single letter signed Shen Qiao, even though it had been weeks since his last letter must have arrived.

Enough was enough, he decided as he reached for a traveling coat.

"Yu Shengyan!" he called out. After a pause, hurried steps sounded from upstairs and Yu Shengyan appeared at the end of the corridor. In a flash, he was close enough to greet him.

"I'm going on a trip," Yan Wushi said lazily, already moving past him towards the main entrance.

Yu Shengyan saluted. "May I ask where to?"

Yan Wushi was already half out of the door when he threw back over his shoulder, "Xuandushan!"

This was progress. Thirty years ago, he would have just disappeared, leaving his students to handle themselves with no warning or idea when he would be back.

Perhaps seeing Shen Qiao always act so indulgent with his own students really had softened him.

Looking towards the skies to gauge the weather, Yan Wushi decided to get a horse instead of a carriage. At his level of martial arts, it would be faster to go on foot, but it was quite the journey.

Chapter Text

After Bai Rong had finished her first round of explanations, Shen Qiao remained silent for a while.

"So this is all a plot to kill Yan Wushi?" he asked.

Bai Rong scrunched her button nose in disdain and continued ripping the grains off a stalk of wild grass. Every single one gave off a tiny flash of light when she threw it into the fire. "Are there ever any other plots?"

When Shen Qiao wasn't waiting for him at their usual inn at Xuandu Town, Yan Wushi knew something was wrong.
He had sent another letter ahead to let Shen Qiao know he was coming, and usually they met up outside of the sect for a few days before they moved up the mountain. Apparently it was better for order within the sect if Yan Wushi "worked off some excess energy first."

Shen Qiao not coming to greet him could mean anything on the catastrophe scale upwards from "minor diplomatic incident."

So Yan Wushi skipped checking in at all and went straight up the mountain.
He went through a series of incredibly evasive answers before he found Elder Kong.

Elder Kong was an old man by now, his vision had clouded and his hands weren't as steady as they used to be, but his back was still straight and his answers were concise.
He had been one of the few elders who hadn't supported Yu Ai's takeover, which earned him a small measure of favor from Yan Wushi. Perhaps that was why everyone else seemed so eager to foist Yan Wushi off on him.

"Nobody has seen Shen-zhangjiao in almost two weeks," Elder Kong stated matter-of-factly. "The last thing we could find out was that he told one of his disciples he was going on a minor errand. He didn't seem to have packed for a journey."

Yan Wushi found his suspicions grimly confirmed. "Does anyone know which direction he went in?"

Elder Kong had to shake his head.

There wasn't much more information to be gleaned from Mt Xuandu because there wasn't any more information, period.

Harmony Sect had been acting strange lately and Yan Wushi hadn't heard from Bai Rong in ages. Not that he was upset about that, but it wasn't a good sign.

Yan Wushi looked out of the window with narrowed eyes for a moment and thought.
Then he nodded to Elder Kong and swept out of the room.
They were well past the point where he had to try and leave a good impression on Shen Qiao's Elders - not that Shen Qiao gave them all that much room to make trouble anymore -, and the old man would appreciate his brisk approach to the matter more than an empty show of respect.

"But why time travel?" asked Shen Qiao, seemingly at a loss.

Bai Rong shrugged carelessly. "It's generally accepted the last time anyone could kill Yan Wushi was during the ambush of the five. That belief became cemented when he beat Hulugu in the second duel of Banbu peak."

Shen Qiao pondered that for a moment.
Normally, one would simply wait for a more talented junior to rise through the ranks ... but it seemed someone had run out of patience.

"Then there has to be a reason why they didn't just return to that ambush directly," he concluded.

Bai Rong nodded. "It was already an unfavourable situation. Better to get more time to prepare - and to get you out of the picture beforehand. If you hadn't saved Yan Wushi afterwards, they absolutely would have succeeded."

Yan Wushi had two advantages during the search:
One, he knew Shen Qiao better than almost everyone else.
And two, he was the only person on the mountain who dared go through the sect leader's mail.

Since his disappearance, a considerable amount of correspondence had accumulated on Shen Qiao's desk. Fortunately, Yan Wushi could ignore all of it. The letters that really mattered were the ones from before.

The last letter Shen Qiao had opened was from Bai Rong, with an innocuous seeming question about a small spike in cinnabar prices in one of the northern provinces.

Yan Wushi frowned. Letters from Bai Rong were always a reason for suspicion, but they were also frequent and usually not a threat to Shen Qiao.

She also wasn't strong enough to take Shen Qiao on in open combat, and as friendly as the two were with each other, Shen Qiao was still on guard whenever they spoke in person.

That distrust probably came with the territory of being a sect leader Shen Qiao wasn't married to. Yan Wushi wouldn't know what that was like.

From the door, someone cleared his throat.

Yan Wushi raised his head in surprise. The sect leader's office was sacrosanct, and after he had gained access despite some token protests, he had expected to be left alone.

In the door stood Shiwu.

After access to enough food at Xuandu, he had shot up like a stalk of bamboo first and broadened out in later years. At the beginning of his thirties, Shiwu had become a rather accomplished cultivator, though not accomplished enough Yan Wushi would have payed attention to him without his connection to Shen Qiao. Not that that was saying much, it was how he treated 99.98% of the population.

The distance between them had abated a little after Shiwu had seen him rise from the sect leader pavilion in the morning, bleary-eyed and overly affectionate towards Shen Qiao, with a set of hickeys barely concealed beneath the collar of a bath robe, for the third time.

Being as they were, Yan Wushi didn't think of him much, but he was aware the young man was still shy, if not distrustful around him and avoided his presence like the plague when Shen Qiao wasn't around to take the brunt of his teasing.

Shiwu was standing in the door of the Sect Leader's office, where he wouldn't dare stand normally, and saying, "Sect Leader Yan, Shizun has been missing for weeks. Is there anything you know?"

And that, if nothing else, drove home how bad the situation was.

"We'll split up," Yan Wushi said grimly. "Cover every inn he might have stayed at if he got held up the first day so we get a direction, and meet up back here in five days to compare."

Somehow, Shiwu just nodding with a determined expression instead of grimacing made it worse.

"I found out about the whole thing, of course," Bai Rong said, still staring into the camp fire.

"Of course."

"And I crashed it," Bai Rong continued.

Shen Qiao made an inquisitive noise. "Why did you?"

Bai Rong threw him a look before pasting on her usual demeanor. "Why, it's because you've been so helpful to me in the past, of course!"

Shen Qiao raised his eyebrows with polite skepticism.

Bai Rong's eyes crinkled in response. "If the timeline around Yan Wushi shifted that drastically, you might never have injured my Shizun enough that I could kill him." She shrugged. "All in all, if someone was changing the timeline, I had far more to gain by being one of those people than by staying out of it."

When searching for something, Murphy's law dictated it to always be in the last place you decided to check, so of course Yan Wushi and Shiwu met up at the end of both their semi-circles a few days later. (Well, Yan Wushi had checked a little more than half of the circle and Shiwu a little less, but ... details.)

The innkeeper recognized their description and could only tell them Shen Qiao had stayed for one night and then not appeared for breakfast the next morning. His things had been collected and put into storage when he remained missing for another few days.

Among the things he had left behind was Shanhe Tongbei.

"What do we do now?" Shiwu asked quietly, looking down at the sword and trying to keep his terror under control.

"It seems," Yan Wushi said grimly, "we are going to pay a visit to Bai Rong and ask about that letter. Among other things."

Shen Qiao nodded thoughtfully before saying, "None of this explains how I traveled back in time, though."

"I have a guess." Bai Rong hesitated. "For transporting larger groups, the transportation array becomes impractical. So instead, you send a representative holding a token from everyone else."

Shen Qiao nodded to prompt her into continuing.

"When I interrupted the ritual, I was carrying a letter from you. It might have counted."

Shen Qiao mulled it over and deemed the explanation plausible. "I remember the letter," he said. "You wrote to me someone was scheming, and that if it wasn't Yan Wushi I should probably check on it ..."

"And you wrote back it wasn't either of you," Bai Rong finished, twirling one of her braids between her fingers. "Thank you for that, by the way. I wouldn't have found them in time otherwise."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "What happened to our old timeline?"

Bai Rong blew out air. "Conducting the ritual for the first time splits off an extra timeline. There's a counterpart that closes one of both timelines and turns time back to its normal single line, which is what you have to do to make changes permanent."

Deep in thought, Shen Qiao nodded.

"So." Bai Rong stretched luxuriously as the fire popped and collapsed some more. "What are your plans now? Do you want to try and get back to our old timeline?"

Shen Qiao shook his head. "Like you said, there isn't much point while someone here is trying to destroy it."

There was a moment of silence.

"I want to get Tai'e sword and break it open," Shen Qiao decided.

"Oh?" Bai Rong said. Her raised eyebrows said, I'm listening.

"If the entire point of this was to kill Yan Wushi, I can improve his chances most by helping him fix the flaw in his demonic core."

"And are you, by any chance, looking for a partner?" Bai Rong leaned back on her hands and smiled at him.

"I would appreciate your assistance."

Bai Rong tilted her head towards him in acceptance, sealing the deal.

Her eyes flashed with curiosity. "If you haven't retrieved the sword yet, is it very difficult to find?"

Shen Qiao thought about it. Slowly, he said, "It starts with breaking into an auction house in Tuyuhun ..."

Bai Rong's eyebrows rose. If it was the auction she was thinking of, the security was going to be challenging.

"After that, it gets difficult."

Never mind.

Bai Rong sighed internally, already mourning the next few months of her life. But she still was a martial artist first and foremost. If she could fix the flaw in her own demonic core, it would be worth the delay to her plans in sect politics.

Bai Rong smiled. "Alright," she said before pouting. "But I'm making a copy of it before you hand it over to Yan Wushi. That man has an atrocious track record with preserving books."

Chapter Text

Bai Rong's third heist went off without a hitch. At least they had planned in more than enough time.

"Actually, why are we stealing this instead of bidding on it?" Bai Rong asked, flipping the wrapped sword in her hands as they peacefully walked away from the warehouse.

"Do you know how much Chen Gong bought this for last time?"

"No ..."

Shen Qiao told her.

"What," Bai Rong said, mentally going over her sect budget and converting the amount into new safe houses, horses, and training manuals.

"It's a symbol of rulership," Shen Qiao said, striding towards the end of the alley. "We live in times when that trumps a lot of gold."

"Out of curiosity, what are we doing with this when we opened it?" Bai Rong asked.

Shen Qiao paused. "I think it was Yan-zongzhu's very first sword, before Taihua," he said, "so I was going to give it back to him."

"Well, if he doesn't want it ..."

"You're welcome to have it," Shen Qiao said placidly.

Bai Rong blinked. It was a rather powerful symbol for Qi to rally around.

"I like it better with you than I did with Chen Gong, anyway."

That was a fair point.

The city of Tuyuhun was near the desert. It took them about a day to reach the outermost villages and hire a guide, and only about half a day more to get near Ruoqiang.

When the compass started spinning wildly, they sent the guide back with a word of thanks and a generous tip and continued on their own.

Not even ten minutes later, they were surprised by a sandstorm and got horribly lost. When they took shelter between a group of rocks, it turned out that when they took a wrong turn, "random rock formation" was a slippery slope towards "underground city."

"The things I do for you," grumbled Bai Rong, getting to her feet from where they had slid down and landed in the underground tunnels. She was trying and failing to get all of the sand out of her hair.

"You mean the things you do for a solarity scroll your life depends on," said Shen Qiao wryly.

In response, Bai Rong only grinned cheekily.

They successfully made it past the venomous spiders with the strange, twitching markings that made them look like eerie, laughing faces when they moved.

("Shen-lang, this is the worst date I've ever been on. You have cobwebs in your hair too, stop laughing.")

Torches and blasts of qi kept them at bay for long enough that they could pass.

The monkeys gave them a little more trouble, but were also manageable.

("I can't believe I ever thought these were cute," Bai Rong gasped, pressing a hand to her ribs to ease the sting of her harsh breathing.

Shen Qiao was leaning against the wall of the tunnel they had escaped into, also out of breath. One or two scratches marred the side of his usually flawless face and were slowly turning red.
If she didn't know better, Bai Rong would think the monkey's claws were poisoned, but surely, next to unnatural speed, strength, and intelligence, that was just too much. Right?

"We should try to stay away from the group leader," Shen Qiao managed. "Otherwise they get a lot worse."

"How do I recognize the group leader?"

"It has a human face," Shen Qiao said, pushing himself off the wall and continuing on their path.

Bai Rong turned her head to stare at him. "It has a what now.")

After some fighting, they found the jade cistanche.

("And it really cures almost everything?" Bai Rong asked, poking one of the hand-shaped fruits fascinatedly.

"Any internal injuries, at least," Shen Qiao said, already moving onwards. "And it's also the only known cure for carnelian poisoning, which is otherwise lethal."

"Why do we need that?" Bai Rong asked, hints of wariness creeping through her voice. She raised her voice when Shen Qiao continued on. "Shen-lang? Why do we need that?")

With a few cistanches in their pocket, they could safely climb down into the crevice with the carnelian.

(Bai Rong mustered the glowing red crystal formations at the bottom of the abyss with open distrust.

"How quickly will just touching this kill you?"

Shen Qiao thought for a second. "Maybe one or two incense sticks?"

Bai Rong stared at him, hard.

"The excruciating pain sets in far earlier, though." Shen Qiao lightly stepped down the near vertical rock wall by setting the tips of his boots on a few sparse outcroppings.

Bai Rong stared harder.

"Charming," she said and jumped after him.)

Bai Rong let her eyes roam over the jagged, pointy crystal formations and the angry red glow they sent across the walls.

Without waiting for her, Shen Qiao unpacked a pair of gloves and slid them on before gripping the hilt of Tai'e.

He didn't bother to unwrap it before he wedged it between two especially large crystals, but Bai Rong still moved out of the way in case the fabric wasn't enough to cushion the break.
Flying sword shards were lethal enough to instill a respect for them in anyone who had ever witnessed them.

Benefitting from the leverage of the crystals, Shen Qiao didn't even need to exert much force. With an echoing crack, the sword broke at its weakest point near the hilt.

They worked briskly. When they were finally holding the silk piece in their hands, Bai Rong didn't waste time before unpacking paper, a brush, an inkstone and some water to begin copying it down.

"It's the easiest way to start memorizing something," she said offhandedly, brow furrowed in concentration. "How much time do you think we have before the monkeys return?"

Shen Qiao scaled the wall back up to the path and checked the tunnels. "They're not keen on repeating fights they've lost," he replied from above, his voice echoing even though he had lowered it. "I don't believe they'll think to check in here until they become hungry. It might take a few hours."

For an indeterminate amount of time, there was only the whisper of the brush on paper from Bai Rong.
To herself, she thought they really had come far. She trusted Shen Qiao to keep watch for her, and he trusted her not to ruin the solarity scroll while his back was turned.
Was this what having a friend was like?

When she finished, she carefully waved the copy through the air a few times to dry it. In the meantime, she mustered the cave walls around her.

"Shen-lang," she called up, "can I borrow the gloves for a second?"

The carnelian itself was almost indestructible, but the rock it was embedded in was significantly softer. Using the edge of dagger, she hammered at the material surrounding a carnelian crystal as big as the first digit of her thumb until she could break it free.

Upon noticing Shen Qiao's look, she just smiled sweetly. "It would make for a really pretty ring, don't you think?"

Shen Qiao just shook his head. "At least take some more of the cure with you, too," he sighed.

"I was already planning on it!"

Chapter Text

As it turned out, Yan Wushi needn't have thought about what to say to Bai Rong, since when they arrived at the Harmony Sect headquarters in Qi, she wasn't there.
He and Shiwu were greeted with wary politeness by Liu Xufei and Bing Xian, her two favorite disciples.

"Is Bai-zongzhu too important these days to greet her guests herself?" Yan Wushi asked with a sharp smile.

"I'm sure if she had known you were coming, she would have arranged a proper welcome," said Liu Xufei, the tension simmering beneath her tone implying the welcome would have been bloody and painful.

"Well, where is she?" Yan Wushi asked, leaning to the side casually.

Bing Xian murmured an apology and soundlessly left the room.
Their host lifted the teacup again with an opaque smile. "Shizun is out on a mission. I'm afraid we don't know when she will be back."

"I have no problem waiting here until then."

Equally silently, Shiwu, who had so far been largely overlooked in Yan Wushi's shadow, rose to his feet and slipped out of the room.

He found Bing Xian quietly giving orders to a servant. He wasn't sure which of them looked more stressed.

"Excuse me," Shiwu said softly. The young woman turned around and gave a strained smile.

"What can I do for you if it's important enough you left the guest room and followed me all the way here?"

Shiwu let the rebuke pass silently. "I'm sure Bai-zongzhu has her mission well in hand, but if," he said carefully, "hypothetically, she wasn't just on a mission. Do you think there would be a chance my Shizun and her disappeared the same way?"

Bing Xian stared at him mutely. The servant sensed a dismissal coming and left discreetly.

"Let's go somewhere else," Bing Xian said.

Shiwu spared a moment to wonder whether he was about to get murdered, but there were no good alternatives left. Then he steeled himself and followed.

When Shen Qiao finally found Yan Wushi, it was in an inn in Zhou on the route to Tuyuhun, weeks after having separated from Bai Rong. On the way, he had overheard all manners of interesting gossip from all over.

Emperor Gao Wei of Qi had been found dead in his bedroom, a valuable dagger he had been gifted only days ago missing.
The dagger was rumoured to have been inlaid with precious and semi-precious stones, including a beautiful red crystal just where a palm might smooth over the hilt.
Disgraced Consort Fei had, to general curiosity, been let out of her room and generously been taken into Harmony Sect.
Public opinion seemed to be that the disgraceful practices of a demonic sect were the only thing she was still good for anyway, and people's smiles turned peculiar and cutting when they spoke of the matter.

For his part, Shen Qiao hoped former Consort Fei was seizing her chance at freedom with both hands.

Less salacious were the rumors that Crown Prince Yuwen Yun - not demoted, sadly - had been sent to train in martial arts somewhere, but nobody knew where. It was nonetheless the topic of a good deal of speculation.

Shen Qiao approached Yan Wushi's table and greeted him politely.

The man's eyes sharpened imperceptibly. Since they had parted, Shen Qiao had fully repaired the cracks the demonic core had left, and also used his new mastery over his qi to expand it some more. He was making good progress towards recovering the martial prowess he had wielded before his jump back in time, and to someone as knowledgeable as Yan Wushi at least parts of it had to be visible.

"You again," Yan Wushi said lazily, making no move to get up.

Shen Qiao ignored the lack of manners and just inclined his head.

"Parting from your new friend so quickly?"

"We achieved what we set out to do and continued on our separate ways," Shen Qiao replied smoothly. "I need to speak to you."

Yan Wushi raised an eyebrow and leaned back, settling an arm across the backrest of the chair next to him. "You seem to be doing that just now."

Taking the hint they would not talk privately, Shen Qiao took a seat at the other side of the table.

"Are you still planning to go to the Coiling Dragon Fair?"

Yan Wushi leisurely swirled the plum wine in his cup. "If you have come here to ask me questions, tell me something first."

Shen Qiao didn't even blink. "What do you want me to tell you?"

"How did you know about the flaw in the Fenglin scriptures?" Yan Wushi said, deceptively light. "You should not."

Shen Qiao internally froze. "How do you think?" he tried, stalling for time.

"Because of that display with Bai Rong in the temple, I think she might have told you after. But you knew before that. So explain this to me, how did you know?"

Shen Qiao was lost for words for several long moments. He began a sentence and stopped again.

"Guang Lingsan gave out the information," he began carefully, "and him, Xueting, Dou Yanshan, Duan Wenyang and Yu Ai are planning to use it to kill you in an ambush at the fair."

If these news disquieted Yan Wushi in any way, he didn't show it. "And that's how you found out?" he clarified.

Shen Qiao hesitated. "I ... was approached if I wanted to join." That much was true, even if it hadn't happened in their timeline.

"But that's not how you found out," Yan Wushi pushed further. "How did you?"

When Shen Qiao still didn't answer, he hummed. "Very well then." He set his cup down with a clack. "I don't know what your goal is in telling me and I don't care to know. After all I've seen of you, I'm sure the reason would disappoint me."

Shen Qiao thougt, I want you alive. That's it.

In Yan Wushi's mocking smile, he believed he could read the answer to that: Exactly. Disappointing.

"In any case, you must know me well enough to know it won't stop me. They want to kill me? Let them come."

Behind Yan Wushi's placid exterior, his thoughts weren't quite as relaxed. The idea that Guang Lingsan really might have told them was disconcerting. It was harming himself as well, together with all three demonic sects.
Then again, Guang Lingsan always had gambled high stakes.

"I thought as much," Shen Qiao confirmed. From his back, he pulled a wrapped sword that wasn't his own and set it on the table between them.
When he unwrapped it, a few faint lines were visible on the blade, as if it had been broken and reassembled while trying to preserve the original design as possible.

Next to the sword, he put a jewelry box and a round, tightly sealed container.
He opened both, revealing a seal ring, a hairpin and some other odds and ends from the first and a piece of silk from the second.

With a moment of surreal delay, Yan Wushi recognized the hairpin as something his mother had worn a lifetime ago.

"I visited the auction house and took the liberty of bringing back everything that was said to have once belonged to Xie family," Shen Qiao stated as if that wasn't a completely insane thing to say. "There really isn't a reason to go anymore."

Yan Wushi tore his gaze away from the seal ring that also tickled his memory and smiled at Shen Qiao. Really, the man should know how badly he took to being told what to do. "Quite the opposite," he said. "You just gave me an excellent reason to go."

In a completely flat tone, Shen Qiao just said, "Why." Are you like this.

Yan Wushi leaned back with a smirk, eyes glittering. "Life has been so dull lately. If they all show up together, won't it be terribly interesting to see who wins?"

Shen Qiao mentally pressed the air from his lungs out through his teeth with a hiss.
"Why," he repeated.

Are you trying to die? If you're trying to die, just let me do it. I promise it's going to be a lot less painful than what Xueting and Company are going to do to you.

After recovering his poise, Shen Qiao said, "If you really want to gamble your life fighting five on one -"
Because it was exactly that: a gamble.

"Four on one," Yan Wushi corrected. "Haven't you heard? That old merchant Dou Yanshan died recently. Yun Fuyi is going to be too busy managing the power transfer in Six Harmonies Association to get involved in anything."

Shen Qiao took a deep breath and turned to get up and leave. "If you're taking a gamble like that, at least read this before you go." He nodded towards the piece of silk. "It might improve your odds." He rose to his feet.

Pleasantly, Yan Wushi said, "No."

The word froze Shen Qiao mid-movement.

"What do you mean, no," he asked, carefully controlled.

Yan Wushi gave a put-upon sigh and shook his head at him. "A-Qiao, have you really learned nothing? I recently tried to sell you to Sang Jingxing. Even if you don't hold a grudge, do you really think I would be dumb enough to accept any help you pretend to offer?"

Something was boiling underneath Shen Qiao's skin. He took a moment to recenter himself and wrest it back under control.

"I'll leave it with you in case you change your mind," he said calmly. "It's not like it can actually harm you if you don't let it - just check if you find any ideas that seem useful."
He turned to leave again and turned back once more, remembering something. "Do you have any use for Tai'e?"

Almost casually, Yan Wushi dropped his gaze back onto the sword on the table, as if he had forgotten it was there.
With one hand, he pushed it away from himself. "I see no reason to keep it."

So much for 'what's mine will always be mine', Shen Qiao thought. Just to clarify, he asked, "You don't want it back?"

Do you think if you bring me a different sword, I'll take you back too? Yan Wushi mocked in his head.
"Taihua is by far the superior blade. You can keep this one."

He caught Shen Qiao's gaze and held it. "I discarded Tai'e on purpose because it had become worthless to me. There's no room in my life for something that has cracked under pressure and was imperfectly fixed."

Shen Qiao mustered him for a moment longer. The insult had failed to rouse his anger, if anything, he looked faintly sad. "Take good care of yourself," he said softly.

A moment later he had left, taking the sword with him.

Chapter Text

Qi welcomed Shen Qiao with no particular attention at first, until he asked about Harmony Sect.
Then, within minutes that he spent waiting in front of the capital gates, someone arrived and demanded he be let in immediately, which he was.

Bai Rong awaited him on the other side. He realized he now knew her well enough to recognize that her smile was tired, but genuine. A stab of affection caught him by surprise.

Without further ado, he undid the fastenings keeping Tai'e on his back and handed the sword to Bai Rong. She accepted it with both hands, as was customary of a gift.

"Thank you," she said.

"You contributed."

Bai Rong politely refrained from pointing out that the justification for the theft had been to return the objects to their rightful owners, namely the Xie family.

"Well," she said instead, brightening her smile a little, "since you're here already, can I convince you to let me show you around a bit?"

Shen Qiao began to decline politely, so she quickly added, "I'm sure you will want to know how your old contacts in Bixia Sect are doing after the rulership of Qi changed so dramatically."

Shen Qiao frowned a little. "How are they doing?"

"Oh, you wouldn't want to take my word for it," Bai Rong said with a victorious smirk. "Isn't it way better to check for yourself?"

Shen Qiao sighed and accepted he was going to get dragged on a tour.

Bai Rong was, as he had known, a talented and engaging storyteller, taking him past and through the main sights of the capital while talking about their history, cleverly interwoven with their use in the current political climate.

"And this building," she said, gesturing to a spacious, beautiful mansion near the palace itself, "used to belong to the third noble of Qi."

"Mu Tipo's colleague?"

"That exact one. You're acquainted?"

"Passingly," Shen Qiao said. "Please continue."

"After Gao Wei died," Shen Qiao noted Bai Rong was using no titles when referring to the previous Emperor and silently agreed with her, "there was some strife between the three nobles about who was going to take up the mantle of Emperor next. Mu Tipo's position wasn't the strongest, so the struggle was mainly between the other two. Commandery Prince Han came out victorious. After ousting his rival, he took over his residence and turned it into an administrative building. It now houses the disaster relief department."

Shen Qiao was so surprised that his movements stalled for a moment.

Bai Rong caught it from the corner of her eye and smiled meaningfully.

A lot had changed in Qi after the death of Gao Wei.

Consort Fei, as it turned out, had changed into the garb of a junior disciple of Harmony Sect and was holding her shoulders as if her attitude was armor and her mere presence an attack.
While Bai Rong introduced them, shooting Shen Qiao a look that dared him to bring up any of the backstory, someone whispered something derisive behind her back. A few moments later, Consort Fei found a reason to turn her head slightly and caught a look of the minister in question.

Shen Qiao had no proof, but after they bid her farewell, he saw neither the minister nor the man he had spoken to again for the rest of the visit, and he had a feeling he wouldn't either going forward.

Commandery Prince Han was busy preparing for his approaching coronation, but they were greeted by Han Eying, prospective imperial princess.

It took her a few moments past the greeting formalities before she narrowed her eyes at him. "I remember where I know you from. Funing County. The cryptic fortune teller."

Shen Qiao nodded politely at her. "How have you been doing?"

"Your warnings were correct, if cryptic," she said coldly before sweeping her long sleeve to indicate the entire throne room. "But you couldn't have at least mentioned this?"

It took Bai Rong tugging on her sleeve placatingly for her to came down.

"Ying-er," she said, hiding her laughter while trying to pout. "It's alright, Ying-er. He told me." Mirth was dancing in her eyes. "You know I've been working closely with your father, hm? It would have been rude to make you do all of the work."

Somewhat mollified, Han Eying hmphed and let herself be persuaded to change the topic. Behind her back, Bai Rong winked at Shen Qiao.

After Han Eying dismissed them, Bai Rong signaled something to a servant and led Shen Qiao out into one of the vast palace gardens. The sky was overcast, but not dark, and the air was still pleasantly warm. Nonetheless they were the only people outside.

On a path leading up to a stone pavilion, Bai Rong slowed her steps a little.
"So," she said deceptively casually, "This was a sword Yan Wushi didn't want back?"

"He generally does fight bare-handed."

Bai Rong hummed. "I hope your trip was successful nonetheless." Her tone held the hint of a question.

Shen Qiao thanked her in a way that was neither a yes nor a no and continued on their path.

Oh, thought Bai Rong.

The view from the pavilion was superb, offering a panoramic view of the eastern quadrant, from the lotus ponds to the artfully cut trees on the surrounding hills.

Standing next to him and taking in the view, Bai Rong said casually, "Well, I have a rather foolproof way of keeping him from going, if need be."

Shen Qiao turned to her and blinked slowly. "What way are you thinking of?"

Bai Rong's eyes were uncharacteristically serious. After hesitating for another moment, she drew a small vial from her sleeve. From the noise it made when she swished it, it was still half full.

Shen Qiao stared at it for a few seconds before shaking his head.

With a hint of relief, Bai Rong slipped it back. Joyful Reunion was a powerful weapon, and she was loathe to waste it on someone she wasn't even allowed to kill.

Shen Qiao turned back to the view of the gardens.

"So that's how you killed Sang Jingxing," he said.

The bad thing was.
The part of him that remembered how quickly he had improved after burning out his foundations and rebuilding them with the help of the solarity, the part that enveloped him in cool, perfect clarity when he practiced a sword form, that same part made him long to see what Yan Wushi might make of himself if forced to do the same. Shen Qiao had never quite managed to beat him, and he wasn't bitter about that, quite the opposite.
Of course this is the right thing to do. It's what's best for him. Don't you want that?
The part of him that was a human being with a functioning conscience, though, said no.

Bai Rong was answering the question already. "It would have been better if I had captured him unharmed, but there was still a lot of his foundations I could make use of."

Shen Qiao remained silent.

Bai Rong threw him a side-eye. "It's what he planned to do to you, except not as painful because I don't have the patience," she said.

Shen Qiao nodded.

As they began to follow down the path, small droplets began to dot the stone slabs here and there.

"How is your sect leader?"

This time, it took Bai Rong a moment to answer. "She's well, thank you," she said perfunctorily. It sounded chilly, though not towards Shen Qiao.

He took time to choose his next words carefully. Before he was finished, though, Bai Rong began to speak again.

"Yuan-zongzhu admitted there isn't going to be an alliance with the Khaganate this time," Bai Rong said unenthusiastically, "and she's hoping to protect Qi by stoking conflict between them and Zhou."

"You must hold a lot of her trust to know all of this," Shen Qiao remarked.

Bai Rong smiled thinly. "She knows it's pertinent to keep one's friends close."

And one's enemies closer.

With Sang Jingxing dead and his faction decimated, Bai Rong was the largest active threat to Yuan Xiuxiu's leadership.

Their path had looped back towards the main pavilion in the center of the garden.

Bai Rong sighed and threw a look at the skies. The occasional splishes of water on the ground intensified.

She slanted another look towards Shen Qiao. "Yuwen Yun is practicing martial arts at a small sect near the border."

Shen Qiao inclined his head. "I'm aware."

She sighed. "Yes, but you don't know that sect is a subsidiary to our Harmony Sect. Yuan Xiuxiu is using it to feed him ideas and is trying to turn him against the Tujue completely. If she succeeds, one of the first things he'll do as Emperor is going to be declaring war against the Khaganate."

This would keep the focus of both of them away from Qi while it was stabilizing and trying to rebuild, but it would be hard on Zhou no matter how you turned it.

"Thank you." Shen Qiao didn't have to specify what for; she knew.

In response, Bai Rong waved him off. The falling raindrops had thickened and were leaving fat, unevenly edged circles on the flagstones. "The weather's getting worse," she said. "Race you back to the main pavilion!"

They arrived two seconds later, wet on one side from collecting several hundreds of meters' worth of rain on their fronts, but not even out of breath.

Bai Rong clicked her tongue in annoyance as they entered. Inside, she ducked behind a folding screen and changed into a dry overrobe an observant attendant had set out. "I'll get you next time," she decided through the wood.
Someone had also set out a meal for several people.
Leaning out from behind the screen, she asked, "Do you want me to send someone for spare clothes?"

Shen Qiao looked down at himself. Instead of responding, he pushed a wave of qi through his skin and outwards. The moisture in and on his clothes turned into a fine silver mist around him and dissipated after a few moments.

Bai Rong quirked an eyebrow. "Practical."

The air was still, so the windows were open, offering a beautiful view into the garden. The scent of wet earth and living plants wafted in and the soft rush of the rain would accompany their meal. It was idyllic.

"Are you expecting someone else?" Shen Qiao asked curiously about the third plate when Bai Rong stepped out behind the folding screen.
She smiled enigmatically and said nothing.

When they were about to take their seats, someone knocked.
Nonsensically, Shen Qiao's first thought was Bai Rong had somehow invited Yan Wushi.
But no. The person who joined them for lunch was Yue Kunchi, Bixia Sect's second in command and also acting sect leader while Zhao Chiying was in seclusion.

"Yue-xiong," Bai Rong said and stepped towards him to greet him. "Thank you for joining us on such short notice. This is an old friend of mine, Shen Qiao ..."

"This one is not currently connected to any sect," Shen Qiao cut in smoothly. "This one recently met Abbot Zhu Lengquan at Bailong Monastery. As far as I know he wanted to make his way back to Bixia Sect. May I ask if you know if he made it back in time?"

Bai Rong led them both to their seats and bid them take their places.

"He did," Yue Kunchi said, settling in. From the way he eyed Shen Qiao, he had to wonder if Han Eying had spoken about him when she passed on his warning. "He also met Ruan-shishu on the road. They traveled a good deal of the road together and sorted out some old misgivings."

Shen Qiao nodded slowly. A surprising coincidence, but a happy one.

Over the first course, he asked, "How's Chuyi settling in?"

Yue Kunchi's face showed a hint of surprise, but it was quickly hidden again. "Well. He's a very active boy, but he takes well to the training schedule and is improving quickly."

"That's good to hear."

At the end of the meal, Yue Kunchi rose to his feet. Shen Qiao and Bai Rong accompanied him to the door.

Before leaving, Yue Kunchi mustered Shen Qiao from tip to toe. "You seem very well informed, Mr Shen," he began.

Sensing they were at the end of Shen Qiao's questions, Bai Rong caught Shen Qiao's eye and interrupted. "Asking forgiveness, Yue-xiong," she smiled, "but we're on a tour and there's still much to see. Thank you for your time!"

Yue Kunchi swallowed his questions and bowed, bidding them farewell. "Enjoy the rest of the tour, and if you're ever near Mount Tai," a scrutinizing look, "do pay us a visit. I'm sure Zhu-shishu would love to see you again."

"I really don't know him that well," Shen Qiao waved him off. "But I would be glad to see him again. Thank you for the invitation." He also bowed and they all took their leave, with Yue Kunchi striding back towards the palace and Bai Rong and Shen Qiao turning back towards the gates.

Of course she couldn't help but tease him when they were out of hearing range. "Well, now you've seen how your darling Bixia Sect is doing, what do you think? And of course you've already received an invitation to go see them. There really isn't anyone you can't win over in less than five minutes!"

Shen Qiao smiled and didn't correct her. She knew as well as he did that Yue Kunchi thought he was hiding something and hoped to find out more if or when he visited.

When Shen Qiao left the palace, his spirits had lifted. In the afternoon, he began to make his way towards Qi.

Chapter Text

Yan Wushi had spent the entire rest of the day and a good deal of the night in the Company of Liu Xufei. She could have chosen to retire at any point after eight, but that would have required her to leave him alone.

In the early morning hours, Liu Xufei caved. Perhaps the thought of another night spent smiling and arguing over tea was what finally did it.
(Yan Wushi was peerlessly skilled at being exhausting.)
Be that as it may, she offered him a room to stay for the next few days.

The implications of that were interesting.
If Bai Rong was on a mission and soon to return, everything was fine - she'd be irate, they'd clear the air, everyone went back to their business.
If she was missing, Harmony Sect had just tied their own hands and laid their head on the chopping block. To the outside, they could bluff for a long time, but with Yan Wushi staying at their head quarters, it would be impossible to hide any kind of prolonged absence.

So perhaps Bai Rong would return after all.

Then again, if Bai Rong was permanently out of the game, Harmony Sect already had a severely weakened position, and they didn't have much left to lose. Maybe Liu Xufei had extended the invitation to stay as a bluff and was gambling on either him losing patience and leaving or Bai Rong's reappearance in the next few days.

It had to be said, Harmony Sect's head quarters were easy on the eye. He surveyed the pond around him, with the meticulously tended garden paths leading towards and away from it, the willows gracefully bowing down to the water to brush it with greening fingertips.

"Yan-zongzhu!" called someone.

When he turned his head, he saw Shiwu standing on one of the red bridges and waving.

Casting his voice far to reach him, Yan Wushi said lazily, "What are you shouting for? Come over."

Even from the distance, he could see the young man narrowing his eyes at him.
Then Shiwu leapt over the railing and skipped over the water towards the middle of the lake, where Yan Wushi was standing.

(On on one of the garden paths, the junior gardener who had been trimming the hedges threw a casual glance towards the lake and nearly dropped his clippers.)

Shiwu bridged the distance without difficulty, but he encountered a problem upon reaching the middle of the lake. Unlike Yan Wushi, he wasn't yet skilled enough to just stand on the water. To keep himself from sinking, he had to either keep circling around Yan Wushi or skip from one leg to the other.

From the smirk on Yan Wushi's face, Shiwu could only assume that was on purpose.
Surprisingly, Yan Wushi began to slowly walk when he reached him, making things easier.

"I heard you went to the city this morning," Shiwu said after greeting him politely. "Did you find something?"

(Even as he asked, Shiwu realizes that in the middle of the lake was the only place they could be sure not to be overheard. His respect for Yan Wushi rose by another grudging notch. Grudging, because the annoyingness had definitely also factored in.)

"Mh. There's been a high demand for cinnabar and other esoteric resources before your Shizun's disappearance - and also in recent weeks. It's clear someone conducted a ritual of some sort, just not who or where."

Shiwu was impressed. That was a lot of information to gather in one morning. "About that," he said and smiled, a little proudly. "I just had the most interesting talk with Bing Xian ..."

Yan Wushi had steered them towards a small artificial island, so Shiwu gratefully stepped back on dry land and turned to face Yan Wushi, who raised his eyebrows.

"She told you? I would never have guessed she was the type."

Maybe if you were less abrasive, more people would tell you information, Shiwu thought. Then he felt a little faint from his own audacity.

"She did," he confirmed.

"And where did Bai Rong gallivant off to?"

Shiwu hesitated. "You're going to send me back if I tell you."

Yan Wushi thought, Oh dear, looks like A-Qiao tried to teach his students how to negotiate.

"I'm going to send you back one way or the other," he said brusquely. "You'd get in the way." Shiwu was a young man in his twenties, old enough to have developed some skills, young enough to be wildly overconfident in them.

"I can help, though," Shiwu said, almost pleadingly. "I want to help."

Yan Wushi scoffed and gave him a lopsided smile. It showed this was one of Shen Qiao's and not one of his own students: Bian Yanmei and Yu Shengyan had learned years ago pleading was useless.
"Is that right? What is it you can you do to help me?"

Shiwu, in a case of unprecedented stubborness, stared him down. The difference between water and grass put their eyes at almost the same height.

"I can tell you the name of the city, for one."

For a second, Yan Wushi was stumped. If Shen Qiao wasn't missing, he probably would have laughed about it. Instead, he raised his eyebrows. "You're really going to jeopardize your Shizun over your pride? You'd only slow me down."

His eyes flicked down to Shiwu's feet, securely on dry land.

You sly son of a -

Outwardly, Shiwu stayed calm. "Go your speed, then," he challenged. "If I can keep up, I'm in."

Yan Wushi rolled his eyes towards the heavens.
Apparently, stubborness was a Mount Xuandu trait.

"Deal."

Shen Qiao was on his way north, still well in Qi territory.
On the road, he passed a patrol. He didn't pay them much mind and was already almost past them when he realized that the face of the leader with the extravagant armor seemed unusually young for that rank.

He stopped and turned.

Sure enough, it was Chen Gong.

Shen Qiao deliberated for a moment before deciding that, no.

For once, this was Bai Rong's problem.

Chapter Text

Shen Qiao took a break in an inn near Tuyuhun. He had been watchful on his journey, meditating instead of sleeping to keep alert and keeping Shanhe Tongbei wrapped up so it wouldn't be recognized.
Now that he had almost reached his destination, he would need some information, though. He ordered his food and took a table in the back.

The food took a long time, but Shen Qiao didn't let that bother him. It gave him ample time to listen to the conversations around him.

From what he gathered, the auction had begun its third day. The artifacts belonging to Xie family would have been scheduled to sell on the fourth if they hadn't been stolen, making it the most probable day for the ambush.

When the food finally came, it was stringy and oversalted, but seeing as the inn was on a busy traveling road and the food had to be brought from far away, he hadn't really expected anything else.
As he listened to the gossip around him, he drank quickly to wash down the taste.
He froze, another swallow still in his mouth. A strange numbness rose from his stomach, and the blood in his ears began to rush.
He spat out the rest and checked the smell of the cup. It smelled only like plum juice, if there was anything else, it was covered up by the fruity sourness of the plums.
He had started circulating his qi almost the second he noticed something was wrong, but the drug was still hitting his blood stream. His vision started to blur and the room spun and tilted.

Shen Qiao pushed his chair back from the table.
From behind him came the noise of someone unsheathing a knife.

Shen Qiao jumped to his feet and spun away from the table, grabbing Shanhe Tongbei as he went. Sqinting at his attacker, he could make out an ill-fitting waiter's uniform over, as he had suspected, black clothes.

From the corner of his vision, he could see at least two more people approaching.
He blocked the first swing with Shanhe Tongbei's sheath, grabbed the wrist of the knife hand and flipped his attacker into the one approaching from his right. Without waiting for the impact, he pivoted further to face number three and - yes, four, steadying himself from his short sway.

The inn was emptying quickly. Most people had stopped screaming and started running. Some were seeking cover under the tables - not good. A serious fight would hurt them.

Number three approached more quickly and lunged into a stab.
Shen Qiao spun his sheathed sword to twist the incoming blade away from himself, then followed it up with a palm strike to the chest. The man was thrown back and crashed into the door frame, where he collapsed.

By now, everyone else left had sought cover or left the inn.

Finally, Shen Qiao felt himself gaining the upper hand against the poison, burning it off at a quicker rate than it started to take effect. The room around him began to stabilize.

Just for a second, he closed his eyes to listen. Number one had gotten up again, number four was appproaching fast.
His earlier block had already led to deep gashes in the oiled cloth around his sword. Instead of bothering to undo the strings, he ripped the rest off, unsheathed the blade and swung it behind him in a brilliant arc of light, forcing them to block or retreat.

Instead of facing them further, he punched out the window next to him, leapt out, and ran.

The drug wasn't lethal, he found later as he had settled into a high tree to meiditate.
Going through the events again, he thought they had probably been waiting for him to come through. His food must have taken so long because they had replaced the staff with their own people then and there. It had been oversalted on purpose to make him thirsty, and the drug had, despite the heavy dose, been without taste or smell so it wouldn't draw his notice.

It was, however, an incredibly heavy sleeping agent, as he found when his meditation began to feel like a lead mantle and his eyelids refused to open again.
He lost the rest of the evening, the night, and the early morning to sleep.

After receiving the location - Tuyuhun? Really? - Yan Wushi had inferred the rest.
He had traced Bai Rong's inquiries - people tended to remember beautiful women, especially when they were also rich and nosy - and the newer cinnabar purchasements to a warehouse at the outskirts of town.
Now he was crouching on top of the roof, having removed one roof tile and part of the layers beneath to give him a decent view into the hall below. The ceiling was so high and the inside lit up so brightly nobody was likely to notice.

Almost soundlessly, Shiwu landed next to him. He was covered in sweat and gasping like a fish on dry land, but he landed next to him.

Too bad.

He really had kept up well.

Mt Xuandu's 'a rainbow stretching across the heavens' technique really was one of the best light step techniques in the world.

(It was the best. Yan Wushi was just an incurably competitive person suffering from sect rivalry induced delusions.)

It would have been better if Shiwu had given up somewhere. The mission ahead promised to be dangerous and Yan Wushi really didn't want to have to explain to Shen Qiao that his oldest student had gotten killed on their mission to reach him.

Unaware of these thoughts, Shiwu threw a glance at the flagpost bearing the logo of the Mirror of Arts Sect and said, "So that's who's behind it."

Yan Wushi gave a curt en, before turning his attention back to the array drawn on the floor of the warehouse and the conversations echoing up to them. Listening in from this height mght have been difficult for someone else, but Yan Wushi had the sharp hearing of an experienced cultivator.
With their added context, he could decipher most of the lines drawn on the floor. He vaguely remembered reading a text referencing them in Cui Youwang's library when the man had still been alive and Riyue Sect hadn't splintered into their current factions yet.

Time travel.

The venture was audacious; it bordered on attempting the impossible.
It said a lot about his martial prowess and, more, his reputation, that between trying to confront him openly and attempting this ritual, his enemies choose the latter.
Not that Yan Wushi disagreed with them. Time travel was the far more realistic option for them.

"It seems they were hoping to kill this venerable one before I became too much of a threat for them to handle," he mused out loud. "They knew they would need your Shizun out of the way first, though, so it seems that's what they tried." Several times, from the sound of it. "They might have been successful, too, but they got nervous."

Instead of asking something like "time travel? Is that possible?" Shiwu blinked a few times and moved on silently, which was the only reason Yan Wushi didn't knock him out and hide him somewhere.
Shiwu had a talent for neglecting confusing but lastly irrelevant details and focusing on the core of a matter. "That's why they're repeating that ritual?" If that was how his Shizun had disappeared, the rest wasn't important.

"Yes. They expected better results by now. More progress." Yan Wushi smiled, which looked even scarier with the glow emanating from the hole in the roof lighting his face up from below. "My guess is A-Qiao didn't go down as easily as they expected."

Most people left down there were young, in their twenties or early thirties. Yan Wushi concluded it was the sort of time travel that de-aged the participants back to their former bodies. There would be no point sending someone back to a time where they don't exist yet.

With a voice holding both absolute certainty and pride, Shiwu said, "Of course Shizun didn't."

In a rare display of tact, Yan Wushi refrained from pointing out that without his memories, Shen Qiao would have been far too easy to kill on a whole slew of different occasions. They only would have to snatch him out from under Banbu Peak, approach him between Xie Residence and Mu Tipo, or find him after his first fight with Sang Jingxing.

Shen Qiao with his memories, though ... would have been unpredictable. They wouldn't have found him until he had recovered considerably.

Yan Wushi smiled with some satisfaction. Painful lesson, that. Sang Jingxing had barely survived it. And not for very long.

Focusing his thoughts back on the present, he continued. "And now, they want reinforcements. Probably for the time when they need more people the most."

"The Ambush of the Five Masters?"

Yan Wushi slowly turned his head towards Shiwu, who gulped.

"I mean, the cowardly get-together of five arrogant men who hopelessly overestimated themselves ..."

"Better."

From the array below, a red glow emerged.

"Stay back," ordered Yan Wushi before stalking off towards the direction of the entrance and jumping to the ground there.

Barely a second later, the doors burst open. Yan Wushi strode through, emerging from the cloud of dust like a wraith. His hands were leisurely clapsed at his straight, proud back.
"All this effort on behalf of this venerable one," he said silkily, "and you don't even invite me."

"Sect- Sect Leader Yan," someone began, trying to find their footing in politeness.

Yan Wushi chuckled and brought his hands back in front. He flicked one sleeve.
The hall exploded into chaos.

Chapter Text

Shen Qiao had continued on his journey as early as he awoke. He had been on the way for a good while, flying past with the help of his qinggong, and he had been making good progress.
Something about the valley he had just entered struck him as odd, though.

The sun was still low in the sky, so the surrounding hills still cast their shadows over the path. The western edge carried a narrow strip of light at the top, climbing down.

The valley was calm and peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Despite the beautiful morning, not a single bird was chirping.

Suspiciously, Shen Qiao slowed his steps, keeping track of his surroundings.

From the other side of the valley, someone called out, their voice echoing.

"Daoist Master Shen!"

Shen Qiao flicked his eyes towards the voice. On the crests of the hills to the right and left, in the valley's entrance where he had come from, and at the exit he had been heading to appeared black-clad fighters.

It seemed the people from last night had called some friends.

Shen Qiao turned back to the man who had spoken.
"I expected your leader," he said pointedly. "I have some questions for him and was looking forward to meeting him again."

The man on the hill smiled. "He regrets being unable to be here himself. Unfortunately, there are some pressing matters requiring his attention. If you would like, you can wait here and he'll come see you."

"I'm afraid I have the same pressing matter to attend to," Shen Qiao replied coolly. "So I won't be able to enjoy your hospitality today. Now, you can get out of my way and save both of us some time."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

All around them echoed the sounds of drawn weapons.

Calmly, neither quickly nor slowly, Shen Qiao reached for Shanhe Tongbei.

On a windswept plain overseeing the city of Tuyuhun stood Guang Lingsan, leader of the Mirror of Arts Sect and currently ranked seventh among the top ten martial artists.

He was surveying the terrain, mustering it sharply. Evidently someone scouting a battleground, deep in thought.

As it was often with martial masters, the air could give barely a whisper of warning before the person themselves arrived.
Duan Wenyang, tenth, arrived, looking to all the world as if he had just stepped out of thin air.
Guang Lingsan kept studying the terrain as Duan Wenyang took a place next to him.

Before either of them could say something, the air whispered of another newcomer.
Following in Duan Wenyang's footsteps appeared a tall man with a foreboding expression and an even more foreboding aura.

This time, Guang Lingsan turned his head, surprise flashing across his face.

As a sect leader operating out of Tuyuhun, of course he couldn't fail to recognize the man. This was the Kaganate's famed Kosa Sage, the current number eight!

Seeing Gung Lingsan's baffled expression, Kosa Sage spoke first. "Some people back home are not pleased with how things have been going lately."

Guang Lingsan tried to keep a straight face. That fiasco with the ring had been embarrassing for everyone involved; actually, it was no wonder Duan Wenyang had been sent with a supervisor.

"I was sent to be of help." Kosa Sage's lips curled to show what he thought of that particular role. Next to him, Duan Wenyang remained silent like a scolded child. "Also, there's a man in the Central Plains who has drawn the ire of our shared acquaintance," meaning Hulugu, "after we're done here, I'll go find him."

Guang Lingsan thought quickly. Hulugu was difficult to provoke. There really was only one person with the power and knowledge he could think of that fit the bill. He smiled.

"What a lucky coincidence," Guang Lingsan said. "He's likely already on the way here."

Kosa Sage threw him a look from the corner of his eye, somewhere between scepticism and outright suspicion, but he didn't pursue the matter.

The air didn't whisper like before, but the wind gentled to a breeze, and the breeze carried with it gentle laughter.

Kosa Sage didn't move, but his face said clearly: What's this amateur doing here?

A second later, Yuan Xiuxiu appeared on the plateau, as graceful and smiling as ever.

Noting Kosa Sage's expression, she said affably, "You needn't worry I'll hinder you. I'm merely here for the satisfaction. Can you deny I also have reason to want Yan Wushi dead?"

"Of course not," Guang Lingsan said smoothly, hoping to prevent an argument before they had to work together.

Kosa Sage scoffed. "Just don't get in the way of the people who are actually going to contribute."

"Of course," Yuan Xiuxiu said sweetly. "Once Buddhist Master Xueting shows up, I'll make sure to stay out of his way."

The meeting was prevented from escalating into violence by the arrival of Yu Ai, unranked. He swept his eyes across all of them, greeted perfunctorily, and retreated into silence.

On his way to the ambush site, Buddhist Master Xueting stopped in his tracks at an unexpected noise. The road was broad, but to the right and the left was wilderness as far as the eye reached.

"Which friend goes there?"

A tinkling laugh, sounding all around him like a bell, was the only answer.

Without hesitation or mercy, Xueting slammed down his staff. The sound of a jade bell rang out, powerful and overwhelming.

In response, blue lotuses bloomed in front of him on the path, dissolving and reblossoming wherever the force of the ringing bell struck.

From their midst rose a young woman.

"Bai Rong." Xueting frowned. It had taken him a moment to place that face. "What is a student of Harmony Sect doing here? If you're planning to join the ambush on Yan Wushi, I regret to diappoint. We already have everyone we need."

Instead of growing angry, Bai Roing brushed one of her braids over her shoulder and sighed. "Hah, I wish," she said with an adorable moue. It dissolved as her face hardened into her usual smile. "No, Elder Xueting. I'm afraid today, this humble one is here to request your guidance."

Shen Qiao cuts down another enemy, the breach opened by the falling body giving him some breathing room.
He drew into a defensive stance and stared over the blade at the next one. Shanhe Tongbei's blade was still clean, almost free of blood, because he had moved so quickly the blade pulled free before the blood could rush back into the wound. A single drop slid into the middle of the blade and ran down the fuller.
Shen Qiao swept the sword to the side and lurched forward.

He had thought about running, leaving them in the dust, but there was too large a chance they would just follow him. Better to deal with them now than for them to catch up to him at the ambush site.

A sharp flash and another man clutched his wrist to keep pressure on the artery. Shen Qiao had severed a tendon to make him drop his sword and the man had twitched at the wrong moment. Blood was seeping through his sleeve very quickly.

Coldly, Shen Qiao addressed the assembled martial artists. "You were planning to take advantage of an enemy taken unawares. Now that you get a real fight, you're running away? The Mirror of Arts Sect truly declines with each generation."

Leaving his sword in the dust, the man with the bleeding wrist turned on his heel and ran.
Two others followed suit.

Akin to a natural disaster, Shen Qiao leapt towards four fighters who still managed to keep a semblance of a formation, diving down like a raptor and sending a sword glare ahead.

By the time he was finished with them, the rest of the troupe had fled. He decided to let them escape with their lives; he had neither sufficient reason nor the time to hunt them down.

Ignoring the groans of the wounded, he looked up to the sun, which had risen significantly. The valley was no longer cloaked in shadow.

The debacle had cost him at least another hour, but worse, it had also exhausted him. It would take longer than he thought to reach Tuyuhun, even more to be in shape again.

He hastened his steps, reaching for his qinggong.

This time, he wasn't going to be late.

Chapter Text

Unlike the others, Yan Wushi approached the edge of the plateau the normal way, slowly and already visible from afar. He made it look like a leisurely stroll that just so happened to take him through some of the most godforsaken part of the steppes.

Silently, the assembled martial artists were waiting for him. Xueting hadn't appeared, which made Guang Lingsan a little uneasy. But they had moved the ambush location and Shen Qiao was going to have his hands more than full.

When Yan Wushi was close enough, he sneered. The wind carried over his words.
"It looks like someone collected a heap of trash and left it here." He came closer. "Unfortunately, adding five mediocre fighters together does not make one grandmaster."

The ranks of the assembled martial artists bristled.

Yan Wushi gave an arrogant smile. "If you wish to retreat, I'll grant you this one chance. There will not be any others."

"Yan-zongzhu is correct," Kosa sage said, his voice smooth. "Mediocre fighters have no place here." A ripple of movement ran through their group. "So prepare to fight us or don't, it doesn't make a difference. Today, we will kill you."

Yan Wushi smiled, his hands still folded calmly behind his back. In his eyes stood a sharp glint. "Then there's no more time to waste."

The attackers fanned out into a half-circle. Duan Wenyang clenched his whip. Yu Ai drew his sword.

It didn't matter who moved first.
One miniature shift was the spark that set the reaction in motion, and all of them exploded into action.

When Shen Qiao finally arrived, the sun had almost reached its zenith.

The site where the ambush had taken place last time was to the south of the city, clowe to where the main street approached the gates.

It was also, unfortunately, deserted.

Perhaps Yan Wushi had taken Shen Qiao's warning to heart, after all.

Or he had simply taken a different route.

For a moment, Shen Qiao stood there, thinking what to do.

From the city, the wind carried the hint of a shout towards him. Shen Qiao decided any amount of unusual chaos had a good chance of being connected to Yan Wushi and followed the noise.

Entering the outskirts of the city, he quickly traced the clamor to a tavern.
Already from afar, he could hear shouts, stomps, and the sounds of fighting.

"Yan Wushi doesn't stand a chance!" someone roared. A different person stumbled backwards out of the door and collapsed into a heap, clearly knocked out. From within, the same loud voice bellowed, "And he'll get what's coming to him!"

Shen Qiao decided to enter the establishment.

The sign outside declared they primarily sold alcohol, but a dedicated citizen seemed to have opened a betting table in the corner. People truly were the same everywhere.

Once inside, Shen Qiao quickly identified the loudest troublemaker and walked up to him. Without any apparent effort, he grabbed the man by the lapels and lifted him up until his feet were dangling above the floor.

The man in question was of a quite impressive frame and build. Around them, the room quieted considerably.

"Forgive my intrusion," Shen Qiao said calmly. "Since you seem so well-informed, can you tell me where exactly this fight is said to be happening?"

A moment of silence.

"It's outside of the city walls," someone finally spoke up. "North, at the plateau. Everybody knows about it. There's probably a huge crowd gathering by now. You really can't miss it."

Shen Qiao deposited the loudmouth back on his feet and turned to the man who had spoken. It was the bar keeper.

"Thank you very much," Shen Qiao said and put a few coins on the bar counter for the man's troubles before hurrying out.

In his wake, he left sixty seconds of silence.

Then someone said, "So does that mean the odds are back up for negotiation, or ...?"

The fight continued immediately.

The array was pulsing with an ominous red glow that had intensified during the fight.
Yan Wushi had incapacitated all of the people in the room. Some of the younger ones had fled, but he had definitely gotten everyone who had known how to make that array. There wouldn't be any more time travel experiments from this side of the temporal rift.

He had taken great care not to spill any blood on the array. It had worked fabulously. There was only one dusty footprint, and that was very fixable.

Shiwu re-entered the warehouse, looking a little intimidated. He had taken care of one or two martial artists who were fleeing and then returned, only to realize Yan Wushi had dealt with everyone else in the meantime. It was a little demoralizing.

(Good. Demoralizing one's students from time to time was crucial to their continued improvement, Yan Wushi had found.)

"Yan-zongzhu, did you find something?"

They were in a hurry, so Yan Wushi didn't even bother making fun of him. He had analyzed the radicals and overarching structure in the past few minutes and reached a conclusion.

"It's like I thought, it's a time travel array that sends the caster back in time into the body of their younger selves. You can see here, and here," he tapped the offending characters, "that it loops back to around eighteen years in the past."

"Ah, so that's why there were only young people left at the end. They would have been only children back then."

Yab Wushi hummed in agreement and stood up, brushing off his hands. "It transports anyone who stands in the middle of the array. With their current physical body as the price paid for passage."

"Bai-zongzhu must have crashed the ritual," mused Shiwu. "But Shizun was nowhere near this place when he disappeared. How could he get dragged into this?"

Yan Wushi frowned down at the array again. "The circle is too small for a large number of people. It would be annoying to draw it repeatedly ... I suppose they found a different way to send other people as well."

He wasn't a spellcaster after all, and he doubted the array had been used many times before. It had been a very obscure book, and the author largely discredited.

"Well, nothing for it," he said and moved decisively towards the array.

"Wait!"

Yan Wushi turned his head and quirked up one eyebrow.

"You're just going?" Shiwu asked, baffled. "Just earlier you said it was all a plot to kill you. What if you're already injured or dead in that other timeline?"

Yan Wushi smirked and turned back to him. "It really shows your Shizun isn't teaching you and your shixiongdi how to plot ..." He sighed and shook his head. "If I was dead, Guang Lingsan already would have closed the current timeline to keep me from coming after him. The fact that we're here proves they haven't succeeded yet. And if I'm injured ... well. Someone is trying to change the past. If I don't go, I only have things to lose by letting others do it without my input. And finally ... Shen Qiao is there. It may take some time, but when all is said and done, where else would I go?"

His tone was light, almost playful, but Shiwu felt he wasn't joking in the least. He nodded.

"Alright."

Yan Wushi stepped into the middle of the array and knelt down to pour qi into it. The glow became brighter and shifted towards first orange, then yellow.

Shiwu stepped nearer, straight up to the edge.

Yan Wushi frowned at him. "What are you doing?"

"Youre arguments were very compelling. It's where my Shizun went." Another step closer. "I'm also going."

Yan Wushi narrowed his eyes. "You only survived by sheer luck last time. If you go, you'll definitely suffer hunger and disease again. Just stay here and wait until we get back. It's safer."

I do not want to be the one who has to explain your Shizun how you died, went unsaid.

"I don't care," Shiwu said determinedly. He calmly held Yan Wushi's gaze, and for the first time, Yan Wushi felt like he saw a sliver of the potential in him that Shen Qiao must see. There was that same stubborness, that same silent strength. "It's where my Shizun went. I'm going."

Before he could reply, Yan Wushi felt the stream of qi running from his hand into the ground suddenly cut off. He looked down.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Shiwu leapt into the circle.

Light flooded the room. When it faded, it was empty.

Yan Wushi's focus was completely on the fight.
Guang Lingsan and Kosa Sage were the most skilled, forming a semi-decent team to force him to divide his attention between them. Yan Wushi pushed back the one and blocked the other so forcefully he stumbled back to get some space. The gap was immediately filled by Duan Wenyang's whip and Yu Ai's sword glare.

Reaching out, Yan Wushi dodged the sword glare with ease and let the whip wrap around his left hand. He was already bleeding off excess qi like he was breathing, it was child's play to use it as a layer to protect himself. Gripping the cord with the other hand, he yanked.
The whip pulled taut. Duan Wenyang was yanked forward and stumbled nearly into Kosa Sage, derailing the building momentum for an attack; for Yu Ai's second sword glare, Yan Wushi simply tugged at the cord to move it into the way.

When he dropped it, the sword glare had dissipated and the cured rhinoceros leather was frayed, nearly severed.

"Decent sword glare," he said with a grin. It was; those whips were sturdy. "Or it would be - if you could aim."

There was only grim silence from Yu Ai.

With a smirk, Yan Wushi straightened up to face Guang Lingsan again - and whirled to the side.

He had lost track of Yuan Xiuxiu, whose black dual swords cut through the air where his torso had been, now only slicing a strip off his sleeve.

"Careful to watch your back," she sang out. "Yan-lang ~"

She retreated to circle them all again, waiting for her next chance.

Yan Wushi ground his teeth on a smile.

The others were largely as he had expected them to be, but she had improved a lot. Perhaps there was even a hint of solarity qi in her techniques.
After Sang Jingxing's death, had Bai Rong bought her way back into Harmony Sect by -?

He didn't have time to finish that thought. Guang Lingsan was closing in again, accompanied by a furious Kosa Sage.

The next time Yuan Xiuxiu got close, she scored a line across the side of his right shoulder. Feeling petty, he grabbed the blade with the left hand and maneuvered the injured shoulder beneath the flat of the blade. Channeling qi through his fingers to strengthen his grip, he yanked down.

He had been planning to twist the blade out of her hand and fling it into the men in front of him, but Yuan Xiuxiu's grip had strengthened considerably.

Between their combined forces, the blade shattered.

Since the trajectories of the shards were mostly away from Yan Wushi, he got off unscathed. Two more pieces, however, shot forwards.
Guang Lingsan barely parried it, the small blade crashing through the layer of qi and still slicing through the edge of his palm as he redirected it.
Instead, from behind him came a strangled shout from Duan Wenyang, beneath whose collarbone the shard had embedded itself. He would be out of commission for the rest of the fight; if he so much as jostled that piece of metal, nevermind removed it, he was in serious danger of bleeding out.
The second one, smaller, scored a line across Yu Ai's face.
Yan Wushi had obviously whirled away instantly, to avoid Yuan Xiuxiu's other sword. He chanced a look; Yu Ai was clutching his face, howling.
It sounded like someone was losing an eye. There was definitely enough blood seeping out beneath his fingers for it.

Yan Wushi admitted to himself it was a good thing Xueting wasn't here. Having someone really competent here might have been a problem.

He almost walked into Kosa Sage's next attack. Blocking it knocked the wind out of him because he had moved almost too late. Yu Ai, despite the injury, followed it up with another sword glare; Yan Wushi only narrowly dodged it by leaning so it passed a hair's breadth past his nose.
Guang Lingsan chose that moment to engage again. Yan Wushi raised his hand -

From the outside, it didn't look very dramatic.

Mid-movement, Yan Wushi suddenly froze. He jerked. Received a hit in the stomach by Kosa Sage. Reached for his chest, hunching over. Gasped. The he slowly raised his head to glare past Kosa Sage at Guang Lingsan.

The expression on his face was absolutely murderous.

"YOU."

He raised one hand, but it was too late. He jerked forward again, two deep gashes across his upper and lower back, already starting to seep hot blood. Yuan Xiuxiu danced away again, both the stump of her broken sword and the intact one bloody.

This left Yan Wushi's back open.

He dodged another strike, moved.

He gathered up qi, raised his arms, leaned into an offensive stance as if he was ready to lunge. Sent out -
A pretty mediocre attack, and when his opponents had finished blocking and the wind had subsided, he was already far ahead, fleeing.

Yuan Xiuxiu lowered her sword out of its block and frowned delicately.

Surprisingly, Yu Ai was the first to speak up. The shard had left a deep cut closely above his eye, and as head wounds tended to do, it bled profusely. He was squinting to keep the blood from running into his eye, but otherwise handling the injury well. "Is he hoping the desert will keep us? That doesn't make sense."

"He's injured and there's nowhere to hide," Kosa Sage agreed, already starting to move. "We'll run him to ground."

Duan Wenyang held his uninjured hand up to shield his eyes against the sun. "Even if we don't catch up, the land will kill him as surely as we will. There's nothing but desert in that direction."

"No," Guang Lingsan said suddenly, quiet and grim. The earlier look had chilled him to the marrow.
There was no doubt about it: His old enemy was back.

"Whatever he's planning, we need to catch up to him. Now."

Shen Qiao arrived at the plateau the barkeeper had described. There was a crowd on a hill nearby, but it was already dispersing.

The plateau itself was completely empty, with nothing but flattened grass and splattered blood.
For a second, Shen Qiao felt his heart stop.
Then he looked out at the horizon. Westward against the sun, he could see four lines of dust clouds rising near the horizon.
Martial artists in hot pursuit, pushing their qinggong to the limit.

Shen Qiao was the unbeaten master of qinggong. At both of their peaks, not even Yan Wushi had been able to best him.
Shen Qiao put Shanhe Tongbei on his back again and picked up the chase.

Chapter Text

From Yan Wushi's point of view, the change during the fight was a far more drastical one.

He was handling three different attacks at once.

Guang Lingsan chose that moment to engage again. Yan Wushi raised his palm -

Something crashed sideways into his vision, tilted it, blurred. His world shifted sideways on its axis.

Yan Wushi felt himself stumble and lowered his hand, missing a block.

He immediately took a palm strike to his unprotected stomach, lurching forward. His eyes blinked without his input, a hand touched his solar plexus, his head rose on its own. His lungs gulped in one painful breath.

A thought crashed through his head, not his own, like thunder catching up to lightning.

This better have gotten me to Shen Qiao.

Yan Wushi's eyes focused without his say-so, gliding past the Tujue fighter who had just landed the hit to Guang Lingsan, standing behind him.

Something snarled in the back of his head, a wave of anger rolling and breaking.

"YOU," something growled from the pit of his stomach.

Whatever it was, it was enough to make Guang Lingsan pale and take almost a full step back.

Before it could lunge, the air whistled and coldness flashed through Yan Wushi's skin. It was followed by Yuan Xiuxiu's retreating pealing laughter on the wind, and then an explosion of pain along his back.

The being reoriented itself, dodged and blocked two more attacks almost absent-mindedly.

Blood was running down his back and seeping through his clothes.

This was bad.

This is a waste of my time, the intruder murmured. I'm going off to find Ah-Qiao. This second.

For a second ignoring the fact he was no longer in control of his own body, Yan Wushi snapped, Are you insane?

Around them, the fight raged, but the being stopped in surprise.
The distraction nearly cost them an ear as Yuan Xiuxiu closed in again. Using the momentary slip in the intruder's control, Yan Wushi brought up one hand and blocked the sword with a decisive wave of qi.

Absolutely not, Yan Wushi said firmly. You'll give him the completely wrong idea. What if he thinks we like him?

The attention of the newcomer pivoted to him like someone who had realized there was a loud, annoying fly in the bedroom they had wanted to go to sleep in. Or perhaps a rattlesnake.

Letting reflexes and experience take over, the newcomer focused on him. And who, he said lazily, might you be?

I was thinking the same thing, Yan Wushi replied, honing his anger and repressing the discomfort of being in a fight he wasn't controlling. The newcomer's hold over his body was iron tight again, so he kept looking for another opportunity to throw him off, but it was well within his limits to focus on a fight and a conversation at the same time. And why is it that every second thought of yours is centered around that guy?

The intruder scoffed. Yan Wushi could feel a smirk stretch over his face as he flicked a sleeve as if to call up a strike with the full extent of his martial power ... but with none of the qi pressure behind it.

I had forgotten how in denial I was, the intruder murmured to himself.

The attackers shored up their defenses to block. The intruder flung a gust of wind into their faces, turned on his heel, and took off.

What do you see in him, snapped Yan Wushi. He isn't even that pretty!

First of all, the intruder said, giving the impression of someone having to explain that the sky was blue, yes, he is.

Their feet ate up the ground beneath them, putting almost two li of distance between them and their pursuers before the latter even realized there was a need to pursue.

Yan Wushi had to admit to himself the intruder maybe wasn't wrong.
... whatever, he said. There's plenty of equally pretty people out there and most of them are a lot less annoying.

And here's where your error lies, the newcomer said with a tone of condescending patience. That's not a deficit, that's part of the appeal.

Yan Wushi felt irritation scratch at the inside of his ribcage. Well, your PRECIOUS A-Qiao dual cultivated with Bai Rong. Extensively.

A bout of complete disbelief washed over him. No, the intruder said slowly, as if explaining to a child, he did not.

Yan Wushi drew up his last memory of Shen Qiao, holding Tai'e, having improved improbably fast in the last two months, and let the facts speak for him.

The intruder, still transporting them across the empty basin, began frantically flicking through Yan Wushi's memories, starting at Xie Residence and going forward from there in great leaps. He narrowed his eyes at Bai Rong's "what if [he] doesn't want to come back to you after?" before finally returning to the memory Yan Wushi was trying to show him.

... oh, he drawled. No. For a second I got scared A-Qiao didn't retain his memories and she somehow snatched him up while you were busy being stupid.

To himself, the intruder mumbled, I can't believe it has been only twenty seconds since I got here and you're already grating on my nerves.

They didn't look back, but the sounds of martial artists in hot pursuit made it to their ears. They were keeping a stable distance. For now.

The intruder continued leafing through the memories and stopped curiously.
Between them echoed the sentence, Don't tell me ... you're in love with me?

Despite not moving their mouth, the intruder produced the mental noise of clucking his tongue. He gave a put-upon sigh before scolding lazily, No tact whatsoever.

Yan Wushi was beginning to get an inkling who the intruder was, and he didn't like it one bit.

The sentence about coming back to him still hung in the air, lingering with an afterthought of distaste. The intruder didn't seem to be worried, but he definitely didn't appreciate the comment.

Beneath their feet, the dry grass had given way to the desert surrounding Tuyuhun on most sides. Every great leap sent up a shower of sand behind them.

Where are we running, anyway? Yan Wushi asked, not bothering with a reply. And why? That fight wasn't over yet. I liked these odds better than running.

Immediately, he received a memory flash of hit in the chest, stumble, sway back, raising his hand but not quickly enough, a palm coming down on his head and crack -

It really was, replied the intruder. Besides, the fallout was horrible. I suddenly had two other versions of myself in my head who were incredibly annoying and extremely loudly in love with my A-Qiao.

You poor thing. I have no idea how that must have felt like, Yan Wushi said sarcastically. Was it very bad?

Horrid, the probably older version of him replied, either completely un-selfaware or making fun of him. The word was accompanied by a memory flash of a hand holding a thin wooden stick -
Tangren? And wait, was that -

We do not talk about the nail polish, the intruder snapped. Besides, I got back at him for that.

Yan Wushi wisely decided not to pursue that line of questioning further.

Also, priorities. Step one is getting out of here and step two is figuring out where A-Qiao went.

It has been twelve seconds since you last thought about Shen Qiao, Yan Wushi snarked. You know, I thought he was weirdly obsessed with me, but it turns out you're actually worse.

I have good taste, the intruder said smugly. Now, when was the last time you saw him?

Grudgingly, Yan Wushi drew the same memory as before: Shen Qiao as he was offering him his old sword back.

And what did you say to him then, the intruder asked wearily.

He received an answer.

For a moment, older Yan Wushi considered halting and letting Guang Lingsan & Co bash this idiot's brain in. Then he remembered it was also his own head at the moment.

He got somewhat distracted looking for the entrance - get lost in a sandstorm and fall down the right ravine wasn't exactly good instructions.

You didn't tell me where we're going, his younger self whined.

Will you let me focus? Older Yan Wushi snapped, rifling through the rest of the memories and trying to keep his speed up enough to stay ahead. He snapped the last one shut like a manila folder and refocused. Alright, I'll tell you, he said. We're going underground, and we'll lose them in the tunnels.

There's a tunnel system here? asked his younger self suspiciously. How come I've never heard of it?

Oh, you have.

Mostly buried under a pile of sand was an ancient set of stone steps, leading down into a crack between two rocks.
A flick of his fingers opened the gap further. Sand sprayed into the tunnel.

(Grudgingly, younger Yan Wushi admitted to himself the intruder was probably crazy enough he really was a future version of him.)

They'll find us, younger him grumbled. You're dripping blood everywhere.

Worse, those black swords had been poisoned with something. He couldn't quench the bleeding, only slow it down, and it felt like ice was seeping from the two wounds. As for being found, though ...

Good, Yan Wushi replied grimly. Let them.

He descended into the cave, and the gaping maw of Ruoqiang swallowed them whole.

Chapter Text

Shen Qiao practically flew across the desert, moving forward in great leaps.

Yan Wushi had fled, forcing his attackers to pursue him. The look Shen Qiao had gotten from high up on the plateau had shown him this move had split them up by how good their qinggong was, neatly bypassing the numbers issue. If they still wanted to confront him four on one, Kosa Sage would have to wait for Yu Ai, Guang Lingsan and Yuan Xiuxiu to catch up, costing them time Yan Wushi could use to get farther away. If they didn't want to lose the time, they would have to confront him one on one, or pick a compromise in between.

Shen Qiao had lost sight of them the first time he had entered the uneven terrain of the desert and only kept periodically catching glances at the race. He was passing through a valley between two sand dunes when a deceptively gentle voice gave him pause.

"May I ask, which friend goes there?"

With a tap of his foot, Shen Qiao came to a halt on the treacherous ground.
Looking to the crest of the dune to his right, his eyes found who he was looking for.

"Yuan Xiuxiu," he said.

The woman in question smiled. Now that she wasn't pushing for speed, her footsteps were so light they barely left traces in the sand behind her.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," she said sweetly. Every part of her appearance radiated charm, from the careful way she tilted her head to the position of every single digit of her fingers.

"This one's family name is Shen," he replied curtly. "I would have expected it was beneath an esteemed Sect Leader to fight four on one, but it seems I was wrong."

"It's not four on one anymore if you're here, is it?," Yuan Xiuxiu said with a delicate chuckle, not taking offense. She was tracking his movements sharply.
After a moment, she gently shook her head. "You're speaking too seriously. You know how arrogant that man is, how could I not want to join in taking him down a peg?" Her eyes flashed before her expression gentled again. "I don't think I want to pursue this matter further, though."

She smiled.

Shen Qiao decided he was wasting time. Either she was going to attack him when he passed her, or she would withdraw. Consequently, he began to move.

However, Yuan Xiuxiu's next words froze him in his tracks.

"Bai Rong mentioned you, you know."

"Did she now," Shen Qiao said in a measured tone. He didn't turn back to check Yuan Xiuxiu's expression, but he could imagine it: a cat baring its claws. Bai Rong, are you in danger? he thought while wondering at the same time how much information Yuan Xiuxiu had gotten out of her and how long it had taken. Yuan Xiuxiu was every bit as merciless as Sang Jingxing when it counted.

"I was getting the impression you and her were quite close ..."

"Yuan-zongzhu," Shen Qiao said calmly, not responding to her at all. "Either get out of my way or fight. But stop wasting my time as well as yours."

Yuan Xiuxiu laughed. "If you're asking, how could this one refuse?"

Even while speaking, she launched an attack at him.
Shen Qiao parried the sword glare with one of his own. Their qi collided, raising a cloud of sand around him. He dispelled it with a flick of his blade.

When the air had cleared, Yuan Xiuxiu was already retreating, calling out, "this one will be leaving first." The sentence was punctuated with a bout of laughter. "Wishing Mr Shen all the best in his endeavor!"

Shen Qiao leapt to the top of the dune and flicked his eyes between her retreating figure and the chase going on. As she had probably intended, it wasn't a difficult decision to make. He took off farther into the desert.

No demonic practioner worth their salt ever did something without having an ulterior motive, so it was clear she wasn't just being nice or changed her mind about Yan Wushi. No, she had likely measured his strength and decided she couldn't easily kill him.
Yan Wushi had to be in dire straits if he was running; she also had no love left for anyone else she had attacked him with, either.
By leaving, Yuan Xiuxiu minimized the risk for herself and maximized it for everyone else. If the fight became more even than a four-on-one, the chances for more than one fatality rose exponentially. If her primary goal wasn't to make absolutely sure Yan Wushi was dead, she could only gain from leaving.

In the far distance, Shen Qiao began to recognize the silhouette of Guang Lingsan again.

Kosa Sage was close enough to keep his sight on Yan Wushi most of the time, so of course he noticed when Yan Wushi disappeared into a dune and didn't come out again.

Finding the entrance to the tunnel system wasn't difficult after that, but it took long enough for his senses to kick back in. He didn't know exactly how injured exactly Yan Wushi was and had no desire to go in there and face him on his own.

Burning with impatience, he waited for Yu Ai to catch up. A look behind confirmed Guang Lingsan was almost with them again. Kosa Sage waved and indicated the opening before ducking down and entering.

The sand lost itself a few meters into the tunnel, together with most of the light.
Kosa Sage slowed when he heard careful steps from the entrance. Yu Ai ket his gaze wander over the stone walls with a frown. It was clear he didn't like the situation.

"He's going to try to lay a trap," Yu Ai said grimly.

Something rumbled from below.

Kosa Sage nodded grudgingly. "Let's stay on our guard."

They walked along the tunnel. When the light left them completely, Kosa Sage took out his tinderbox and lit a piece of tinder. The flame was small and weak, but for their sharp eyes, it was enough.

The first time the tunnel branched off, there were some drops of blood on the floor, catching the meagre light. They shared a look and followed that one.

At the second branch, one of the three options had a bloody handprint on the wall, as if someone had clutched their wound and then steadied themselves against the rock.

"I feel like these blood trails are a bit too easy to follow," Yu Ai said.

From behind them, noise echoed through the tunnel. It was probably Guang Lingsan catching up. Seeing how dilapidated the once meticulous tunnels were, they must have been deserted for a long time. It wasn't like there was going to be anything else down here with them.

"We should go back and turn left instead," Yu Ai said tensely.

They hadn't seen a conveniently placed blood splatter in a while.

"We don't have the time," Kosa Sage snapped and turned to him. The piece of tinder he was holding reached the end of his life and died with a sputter. He fumbled in the dark until he found the next one.
"He must know these tunnels. We need to hurry if we want any chance of catching him. I heard something in this direction, we need to go now -"

"Don't move," Yu Ai said, eyes fixed on his shoulder.

Kosa Sage needed a moment to catch up and frowned. "- to find him and - what?"

"I said don't -" Yu Ai lunged forward, flicked his sword and sliced something heavy off his shoulder.
The thing had a lot of legs. It landed in the tunnel on its back with an audible clack of a chitin shell hitting stone before scrambling over and scurrying away on now less than eight legs.

When they looked down, there were more crawling out from somewhere and towards them. A spider lowered itself down on a string between their faces. Its own white mock face twitched.

Slowly, Kosa Sage lifted his glowing piece of tinder.

The entire ceiling was covered in spiders.

Chapter Text

Shen Qiao reached the tunnels soon enough to see Guang Lingsan disappear into them, but not soon enough to find him immediately after entering.
Crossing the first tunnel, he launched a sword light mid-step and watched it travel until the first turn. The light burned out and Shen Qiao rushed on, running from memory so he didn't crash into the walls or trip.

For the rest, he used his ears. He had been blind for long enough that he had gotten practice. There was a difference to how a breath sounded when taken in an empty space compared to how it echoed near a wall; there was a quality to the air rushing past him that changed depending on how wide the tunnel was. After an eternity, there were also muffled noises to follow, of someone who couldn't see and was trying to move quickly, boots scraping over sand and stumbles near a wall.

Guang Lingsan had run into and killed some local wildlife.

It hadn't been fun.

The first monkey had been, though surprisingly fast and strong, relatively easy to kill. After he had managed to hit it with a glancing blow, it hadn't taken much more to take it out.

Monkeys lived in packs. He should have guessed there was a colony somewhere around.

He had ended up having to unwrap his guqin, fending them off with one hand until he managed to strum the first notes of a spiritual song.

The notes, ringing out around him in circles and bounc1ing back from the walls, had functioned as a shield and allowed him to retreat safely while the livid colony fled in the other direction, screaming and hissing.

Still, those first minutes until he managed had been horrid. His clothes were ruined, he was limping and bleeding in several places and if he wasn't wrong, that itching burn spreading from each of the claw marks was poison. To add insult to injury, one of the stupid animals had latched onto his guqin and ripped one of the strings.

The silk had snapped back with the force of a whip and hit the monkey in the eye, so he had at least gotten the necessary breathing room out of it to start playing. But he was still seething.

He had also, he had to admit to himself, gotten horribly lost in the process. At this point, he had no idea if he was moving farther into the caves or back towards the entrance. He was just wandering through the cave he had stumbled into on his flight from the monkeys.

That was until he saw a shimmer of light at the turn behind him.

The light turned brighter and he barely had the time to cover his eyes before it exploded into blinding brightness, white broken into rainbows by the gaps between his lashes with the power of the sun.

The cave darkened again. Someone stepped out of the tunnel, their feet echoing on the stone floor.

It was part of a martial artist's training to sense intention, both in a fight and outside of one.

Guang Lingsan swung his guqin on his back and barely got his hands up in time to block.

In the darkness between two sword glares, he blocked and saw the last shimmers of the dying light flash in the blade, catching four engraved characters.

Shan He Tong Bei.

He had known he recognized that silent stoicism during a fight from somewhere.

"Shen Qiao," he said and withdrew. It was pointless; he couldn't be quiet enough that the formerly blind man wouldn't hear him and know where he was. "Aren't you tired of always chasing after Yan Wushi to your own detriment?"

"We already had this conversation last time," Shen Qiao said calmly. "Sect leader Guang, you're wasting your breath."

"Last time you were bluffing," Guang Lingsan managed to point out. Shen Qiao's next attack emphatically demonstrated he very much wasn't bluffing this time.

Alright, if Shen Qiao wanted a fight, he could get a fight. The young man had overtaken Guang Lingsan eventually, but there was a limit to how quickly one could develop their cultivation; he had to be worse now than he had been at fifty, the absolute peak of his ability.

Guang Lingsan redoubled his efforts.

The sword glare flashed like lightning and exploded the rock face behind him, a short delay before the rolling thunder.

The thunderstorm has to be quite close, he thought hysterically as the cave fell back into darkness.

Hopefully the others were having more success than him.

He threw himself back into the fight.

~
Assuming I somehow went insane and actually fell in love with him, Yan Wushi began.

Lord give me patience, his older self murmured.

They were sneaking through the dark, around where they knew Yu Ai and Kosa Sage were walking. They rounded a corner, ready to fight, scanned the next tunnel and relaxed before they continued. Yes, then what?

Seriously. We're YAN WUSHI. We don't need anyone. We've never shown interest in anyone for longer than a few months. Why would that change?

Is this how Xie Ling felt? older him wondered half-absently.

Yan Wushi decided he wouldn't even try to make sense of that.

I wouldn't say need, his older self said, directed at him. Rather, I realized he was something precious I wanted in my life. And then went and got it.

Those are bold words from someone whose first thought in a new world was 'where's my Shen Qiao'.

I can't help having impeccable taste and an incredibly loving and attractive partner to match.

His younger self was struck with a sudden bout of empathy for the ambush crew. He could definitely understand why someone would try to kill that guy.
The sentiment disturbed him so much he rewound his brain and instantly forgot it ever happened.

Alright, assuming ... well.

Well, what?

What was it like?

Touched with a golden glow, another shred of memory emerged - unbidden, as if older him couldn't help but think of it as soon as he was asked.

He was lying in bed on his side, a skin-colored blur at the edge of his vision telling him he wasn't wearing a shirt. His head was pillowed on one elbow, he was facing his lover and tracing Shen Qiao's cheekbone with one thumb beneath a closed eye.

The eye twitched.

Tilting his head, it was clear he was pillow talking when he crooned at the familiar face. "Shen-lang, tell me something," he said, voice dripping with honey. "Did I really get all your firsts?"

"M-hm." Shen Qiao hummed a confirmation without opening his eyes. "My first kiss, my first time, and my first impulse to shove someone off a cliff for being annoying when I'm trying to sleep." Yan Wushi's hand drifted to his nape and settled there, making him relax into the touch despite his harsh words. "All yours."

Yan Wushi felt delight leap up into his ribcage like a flame fed on kindling, marking the snappy comment down as a success even as he opened his mouth to respond with a quip tho see if he could -

The memory cut off like a door slamming shut and Yan Wushi found himself reaching for it instinctively, to get back to the warmth and affection and anticipation -

It doesn't seem like you need to know that, older him said silkily. Focus now. I can hear them again.

From Yu Ai's point of view, there was very little warning. One moment, he and Kosa Sage were standing back to back, defending themselves agains the onslaught of spiders with qi blasts and sword glares.

The next moment, a blast of qi came from behind them and pushed a wave of air through the tunnel, reverberating through the stone into their feet.

A crack ran across the entire ceiling of the tunnel and spread towards them. Then the whole thing came crashing down.

Chapter Text

Yu Ai's world narrowed down to fall, rock, dodge and stumble.

When the dust settled, he was alone in his branch of the tunnel, which was pitch black.
Something tried to crawl up his leg and he hastily flicked his blade after the sensation, following the motion up with a sword glare.
The last spiders died quickly to flashes of sword light, but the fight - if one could call it that - was draining and exhausting.

Can you throw a punch? Good. Do it. As hard as you can.
That wasn't very exhausting, was it?
Cool. Now can you do sixty more in the next sixty seconds?
Ah, some people groaned. Found the martial artists.

One sword light was fine. Five were, too. Anything more than that started to get uncomfortable really quickly.

There had been a lot of spiders.

Earlier, Yu Ai had thought he would need to conserve his strength if he still wanted to fight after finding Yan Wushi.
Now he was beginning to think he would need to conserve his strength if he just wanted to get out of this alive.

The last spider died with a hissing sound, legs twitching one last time as the light went out again.

Yu Ai stumbled on in the dark.

Shen Qiao and Guang Lingsan fought fiercely, sword light flashing quickly and illuminating them only for moments, stances firm and movements precise.

Caught on his back foot, Guang Lingsan retreated step by step from the onslaught.

Shen Qiao blocked a palm strike aimed for his head and countered instinctively. They had moved to a section where the tunnel narrowed again.
In these close quarters, Guang Lingsan had the advantage: he was faster and more agile while Shen Qiao barely had enough space to swing Shanhe Tongbei in a proper arc.
Shen Qiao could keep the blade between them, but Guang Lingsan kept too close to give him room to maneuver.
Slamming his hand into the wall, Shen Qiao let his qi to ricochet and shoot at Guang Lingsan at an angle, giving himself space to send out another sword glare.

From behind Guang Lingsan, a boom resonated deeply. Above his shoulder, a gust of wind blew into the tunnel, carrying dust and grit.

Shen Qiao allowed himself some faint concern.
That had sounded like Yan Wushi.

Guang Lingsan, likely drawing the same conclusion, went in for another hit.
It was followed by an ominous crack from above them. They looked up, each having a split-second to make a decision.

Guang Lingsan threw himself forward, intent on tackling Shen Qiao out of the narrow tunnel to get himself free of the danger zone.

Instead of retreating, Shen Qiao moved to the side. Guang Lingsan's attack struck Shanhe Tongbei, but instead of trying to block his full weight, Shen Qiao let him rip the sword from his fingers and moved past him.

The cave-in had propagated far enough to reach them.
Shen Qiao passed Guang Lingsan and leaped forwards into the falling rocks.

Guang Lingsan found himself face-down on the floor of the wider cave, frozen in astonishmemt even as the rocks behind him continued to fall. He had been lucky, the ceiling seemed more stable here than in the narrow tunnel; for now, it was keeping firm.

He turned on his back and blinked into the darkness. Still, there were no two ways about it: He was alone in this cave now. Shen Qiao had either made it through to the other side or, more likely, was lying crushed beneath tons and tons of rubble.

With the path forward blocked so insurmountably, there was really only one way to go: out.

When he rose to his feet, he bumped into something that clinked like metal on stone. Picking it up revealed the object as a solid, dependable long sword.

Qi Fengge really hadn't been stingy when it came to his student's equipment. It was one of the finest blades he had ever held.

He hefted it once just to judge the weight and decided to take it with him. He wasn't a swordsman himself, but it might yet serve him well on the way out of here.

Before leaving, Guang Lingsan threw one last look in the direction of the cave-in. The structure still hadn't settled, and the continued low impacts of falling stones made his teeth hurt.

Guang Lingsan decided that dead or not, Perfected Daoist Master Shen was an absolute nutcase.

With the combined powers of speed, agility, impeccable qinggong and frankly sheer luck, Shen Qiao emerged from the niche he had saved himself into slightly dusty and without his sword, but overall unharmed.

The path he had come from was blocked by a large boulder, but he hadn't planned on turning back anyway. The loss of Shanhe Tongbei ached, but between the blade and Yan Wushi, it was at present far more urgent to reach the latter than the former.
Fortunately, the rubble in front seemed less dense at first. With patience and strength, he managed to dig his way through.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Guang Lingsan saw a faint glow ahead.
"Oh, finally," he sighed. He assumed those were the last rays of the evening sun, red as blood.

They were not.

Instead, the source of the light was a cluster of ominous red crystals, embedded in the wall.

Clearly, he had only gotten farther from the surface.

Guang Lingsan cursed and turned, only to find there now was a face directly in front of his.

It was a little on the small side, but human.

The body attached to it was neither.

Guang Lingsan was beginning to think he maybe shouldn't have sheathed Shanhe Tongbei.

~

Yu Ai was terribly, horribly lost.

~

After a bit of digging, Shen Qiao had found a path that branched off and wasn't blocked off. Most of the tunnels interconnected repeatedly with each other and this one was vaguely in the correct direction, so he followed it. A few steps in, he realized the layout was vaguely familiar.
Shen Qiao pulled out a handkerchief, rolled it tightly together and, with a practiced move of his flint and steel, lit one corner on fire.
The meagre flame illuminated the passage. Shen Qiao puzzled over it some time while walking before it clicked.
He had somehow bypassed the cave with the carnelian and the jade cistanche. This passage led to the exit he, Yan Wushi, Chen Gong and Murong Qin had taken on their first trip to Ruoqiang.
Once Yan Wushi left, this was his likeliest exit.
Though if he somehow knows about Ruoqiang ... Shen Qiao brushed the hope aside.

He blew out the handkerchief and quickened his steps.
He made good progress again until his ears picked up the sound of steps from in front.
Shen Qiao stills and listens. The person in question also isn't using any light. It sounds like they just stumbled. bumped into something.
The hiss of pain afterwards was recognizable, though.

"Yu Ai?" Shen Qiao asked, surprised.

The noises from in front of him paused. Then, a trembling voice asked: "Er-shixiong?"

Hastily, Shen Qiao pulled out the handkerchief again and shook it to reignite the embers.

Yu Ai, as far as he could see in the dim light, was pale and bleeding, there was a nasty cut above his eyebrow and dried blood across the side of his face, but he was completely, wonderfully alive.

Shen Qiao realized he maybe hadn't fully appreciated that fact the last time he had been on Mount Xuandu.

Yu Ai was looking at him like Shen Qiao was his light in the darkness.

Well, he was. Hm. Never mind.

Shen Qiao put aside his fraternal feelings for the moment. They were still adversaries for now. He said coolly, "You're here."

Yu Ai didn't answer.

Shen Qiao continued reproachfully. "Aren't you ashamed to be fighting five on one? Is that the sort of courage Shizun taught you?"

After a moment, Yu Ai said, "You're here. How are you -?"

"Irrelevant," Shen Qiao said coolly. "Yu Ai." He took a deep breath. "I can't even begin to imagine what you were thinking," he began and continued to deliver a dressing down so blistering Qi Fengge in his grave probably raised an eyebrow.

" ... in short," Shen Qiao said, coming to a close, "allying with the Tujue is the dumbest thing you ever came up with and that includes everything you ever said that started or ended with 'Shizun doesn't have to find out'.
"But," he finally took a deep breath and calmed somewhat. Carefully, he put one hand to the side of Yu Ai's upper arm. Unlike the last time he touched it, it was reassuringly warm. "When all is said and done ... I'm really glad you're alive."

Yu Ai, who had flinched at the contact, then stared at the hand and folded his own over it like he couldn't quite believe it was real, blinked a few times like he was expecting to get hit. When it became evident that wasn't the case, he blurted out, "What do you mean, you're glad I'm still alive? You're the one who faked his death!"

The sentence echoed through the tunnel, coming back as death death death.

Shen Qiao blinked, nonplussed. "Shidi, what are you saying? I left you that letter, how could you think I faked my death?"

"Well maybe," Yu Ai said, clinging to his sanity by a fraying thread, "MAYBE BECAUSE IT LOOKED LIKE IT WAS WRITTEN BY A FIERCE CORPSE!"

Shen Qiao, who at the time had been mostly blind, in the dark, and also recovering from all the bones in his sword hand shattering, took a moment and then decided not to respond.

"If you thought it was my last will as a restless ghost, did you at least do it," Shen Qiao finally said with a sigh.

Yu Ai hesitated with maybe a hint of guilt. Then he said, "You know, the instructions weren't exactly clear."

Shen Qiao was too reserved to stare, but he did look like he was quietly wondering if Yu Ai had lost his mind.

Defensively, Yu Ai said, "What do you mean, 'don't trust Da-shixiong'? If we can't trust him, who's left we can trust??"

Shen Qiao felt a touch of sadness. Carefully, he said, "I came to speak with him. He said he egged you on to poison me, and that he planned to take over as sect leader instead of you with the help of the Tujue."

Yu Ai remained silent.

Pushing a little further, Shen Qiao said, "They're going to want more from you than you're comfortable with sooner or later, you know. You have to know that."

Yu Ai hesitated. "Before we speak about that, can we speak about the ..."

"The Joyful Reunion you put into my cup?" Shen Qiao prompted.

Yu Ai didn't quite manage to conceal his flinch. "Yes, that. Aren't you angry at all?"

Shen Qiao considered, then shrugged. "I was. I got over it. It was wrong of you, but I won't hold it against you - if you," he gripped more tightly at the arm he was still holding and shook Yu Ai with it to emphasize his words, "stay. alive. this. time!"

Yu Ai blinked at him in frightened, but confused hope.

"After all," Shen Qiao continued in a significantly calmer voice, "you only wanted what was best for Mt Xuandu. I can understand that.
"... and you were right about the isolation policy, even if," a sharp look quelled Yu Ai's answer, "the Tujue were the wrong choice."

Yu Ai, who looked about as elated as someone unexpectedly getting a nobel prize (or a younger sibling getting told they're right by the older), hesitantly said, "Really?"

Shen Qiao nodded. "We do need to rejoin the secular world. We're a mountain, not an island, and we can't live up to our potential if we remain blind to that. It will take an ally from the outside world to give us an in ... but not the Tujue," he gave Yu Ai a stern look that could have made the leaves on a young tree wither. "How could you ever think that was a good idea? We want a unified country without civil wars, with a stable government. The Tujue pillage and plunder and when they hear the word 'stable,' they think about horses."

Yu Ai had already been feeling the pressure of the Tujue wanting more and more of Mt Xuandu's cultivation texts. He was slowly getting the feeling he was in over his head, and had little trouble to concede this as middle ground. "Then who?"

"Either Zhou or Chen," Shen Qiao said. "Though Chen Shubao isn't very competent from what I've seen."

"But," Yu Ai objected, "Zhou has banned all religions and Chen is already heavily rooted in Confucianism ..."

"The Tujue basically are sect of their own already and that didn't stop you either," Shen Qiao shot him down. "Yuwen Yong is willing to make an exception for Mount Xuandu on my behalf. Don't worry about it."

Yu Ai remained silent for a few moments, thinking: You have been away for less than two years, and now you're suddenly on a first name basis with two emperors? What happened?

Shen Qiao rolled his shoulders. "Alright, we'll talk this over some other time. I need to go and rescue Yan Wushi."

Yu Ai reached his hand out to stop him and said, "Wait." Shen Qiao expected Yu Ai to try and persuade him to join the ambush instead of ending it and looked at Yu Ai in surprise as he decisively pushed the hilt of his own sword into Shen Qiao's hand.

Junzi Bu Qi.

Qi Fengge had passed on three swords to three of his disciples: Gu Hengbo, Yu Ai and Shen Qiao himself. They all cherished them uncommonly, not only because they were exceptionally good, but also because of what they represented.

Shen Qiao looked back up to Yu Ai and nodded. "Thank you," he said, not trusting himself to speak further.

He felt unspeakably moved.

"Before you go ..." Yu Ai hesitated again, but to Shen Qiao's relief, it was something less fraught. "... which way do I get out of here?"

Swallowing his laughter, Shen Qiao shook off his stupor. "You're almost there already. Follow the tunnel to your left until the second branch and turn left again, then you should start to see some sand that you can follow."

Moving Junzi Bu Qi so he could hold it more comfortably, Shen Qiao cupped his hands.

Yu Ai mirrored the gesture visibly more hesitantly.

"Take care of yourself," Shen Qiao said.

"You, too."

A moment of silence, where neither of them wanted to go yet.

They ended up hugging before parting ways.

Shen Qiao's makeshift torch was mostly extinguished by now, so there was very little light left.

There was a blood trail on the floor, leading into the tunnel on the right. Dark as it was, the black blood on the grey stones was soon became impossible to make out.
To Shen Qiao's luck, however, the blood had attracted the spiders. At any splatter of considerable size, he could find one or two huddled together, cleaning the congealing blood from the stones with their sharp mandibles. And their markings, so white they were almost luminescent, were just bright enough to make out.

Shen Qiao carefully blew on the last glowing embers of fabric and set to follow the trail.

Chapter Text

The good news: The corpse at the end of the blood trail wasn't Yan Wushi's.
It was Kosa Sage's, covered in red swellings and oozing bitemarks beneath a lacy covering of crawling spiders. The blood stemmed from a head wound he had contracted in the cave-in which, as head wounds tended to do, had bled profusely.

The bad news: There weren't any other trails to follow.

Barely catching the glimmer of metal from the corner of his eye, Shen Qiao found and picked up a discarded tinderbox. The flammables were charred to ashes inside the box, evidently the result of someone making it unusable.
The ashes were cold already.
So someone had been here, with no need for light and the clear intention of sabotaging everyone after.

Shen Qiao carefully moved past the spiders and rushed on.

However, the tunnel he was following led him in circles in one branch, and once he chose the other one, outside.

The sky above the desert was clear, the firmament an arch of black velvet sprinkled with a banner of stars, icily cold.

Shen Qiao used the starlight - almost brilliant in comparison to the darkness of Ruoqiang - to search the sand for footsteps, but there were none. A wavy line in the sand where a snake had burrowed, a whisper in the distance of a fennek on the hunt, but not a single dip of sand where a human foot might have passed.

He returned to the tunnels, but no matter how carefully he searched, how many times he ran his hands across the jagged stone walls, he couldn't find where he had gone wrong.

Finally, he decided Yan Wushi must have found another way out of the caves somehow. If Yan Wushi had been the one to cause the collapse, perhaps he had made sure to be on the other side of it.

Shen Qiao considered.
If Yan Wushi didn't have any memories from the future, he was definitely not going to rely on anyone, stay away from civilization, and live and die on his own merits.

Then again, Yan Wushi had abandoned the fight and headed into Ruoqiang instead.

If Yan Wushi did remember ...

Shen Qiao left Ruoqiang behind in favor of checking if the young woman and her grandfather - Banna? Had that been the name? - had gotten any visitors lately.

Yan Wushi hadn't left Ruoqiang.
When he had circled back to Kosa Sage, using a carefully wrapped carnelian splinter as an inconspicuous light source, he had found him dead already. This was somewhat of a letdown, but not altogether surprising. They had lost most of their original party in these caves originally.

A faintly glimming point on the floor caught his eye, not far from Kosa Sage's outstretched hand. Careful not to bump into any spiders, Yan Wushi felt around and found the tinderbox belonging to the small piece of glowing wood.

He used the small ember of the already lit wood chip to light all the rest, stuck them loosely back into the box to ensure they would all burn together instead of going out on the stone floor, and left the small fire flickering behind him.
One of the crevices in the wall seemed deeper than the rest, hidden well in the shadows. When the fire behind him burned out, it would be completely invisble. Reaching his arm in, he ascertained it was a passage into a larger hollow space, albeit big enough for a small child at best.

Yan Wushi calmed his breathing. With a series of ear-splitting cracks, his bones shrank and reshaped themselves. He had never tested the technique to these limits, but it didn't fail him.
Like a cat or an octopus, Yan Wushi moulded himself into and through the crack in the wall, emerging on the other side with relief and immediate retransformation.
Having a ribcage that tight was not a comfortable state to be in.
A last glance in the dying light made sure he hadn't left any blood smears on the rock face, then he headed further into the darkness.

That solved the being followed problem.

It seemed he wouldn't need any rescuing this time around. He wondered if Shen Qiao had already arrived at the ambush site.

The hollow turned out to lead further into a tunnel. His sense of direction tugged at his memory to let him know he was heading towards the cave with the jade cistanche and the large carnelian clusters Chen Gong had almost died to.

His younger self laughed derisively in the back of his head. After how I treated him, you really think he's gonna come save us? Don't make me laugh.

In his mind, Yan Wushi answered by laughing himself, long and hard. Junior, he said merrily. I successfully betrayed him to Sang Jingxing back in our time. He showed up to this exact ambush with 60% good intentions and 40% spite.
He checked all three paths at an intersection before turning left. Then he took the time to look his other self in the metaphorical eyes with deep amusement. Trust me. This is not going to stop him.

The plan was to get his hands on some jade cistanche and fix the poison in his system that promised to get nasty in the next few hours, meditate and rest before strolling out the same way him, Shen Qiao, Murong Qin and Chen Gong had taken last time. Good luck to any of the other idiots finding that.
Ideally, he could then go and find Shen Qiao. There really wasn't much that could go wrong from this point on.

He was in luck: the monkeys usually weren't keen on sharing their food source, but from the distant sounds of it, they were on the war path - rest in pieces - against someone who wasn't him.

He plucked some cistanche, priceless cultivational treasures they that were, known to cure almost anything, and crunched into one of them like into an apple.

Immediately, the pain lessened. Yan Wushi loosened his shoulders with a sigh and stopped pinching as closely on the wound with his qi.
It was slow, but he could feel the cuts on his back start to heal as the poison disappeared from his veins.

Ah, that's better.

His blind passenger responded with incoherent grumbling. And what now?

This young version of him was way too stubborn to just accept his superior guidance. Annoying.

Now he had a minor problem to solve.
He needed to recover - he didn't know for sure everyone he wanted dead actually was dead. Yu Ai wasn't going to find his way out of there on his own, Yuan Xiuxiu had probably left - her stakes in this were less personal and her ties with the others nonexistent - Duan Wenyang was out, Kosa Sage was dead.
What really bothered him was that he had no idea where the truly dangerous one was, Guang Lingsan. With his foreknowledge and being the reason fof this whole time travel operation, there really was no telling what he was capable of.

Probably got eaten by monkeys, younger him grumbled. Who cares? Where are you dragging me this time?

He was walking down another path leading away from the main cave, to avoid future encounters with the monkey colony. There was a sweet spot between monkey and spider territory where neither was going to bother him.

The younger version of him was fun to make fun of and absolutely, incredibly annoying. If Yan Wushi was the type to get embarrassed, this was what would do it.
It was almost enough to make him wonder how Shen Qiao had ever been able to stand that nuisance (of course, he was Yan Wushi and irresistible per definition, but that guy was clearly so inferior to the updated version.)

In a fit of generosity, he said, there's the question to consider of what we're going to do next.

They needed to recuperate, the question was just where.

At the thought, Yan Wushi sourly remembered that girl, Banna, and her grandfather.
Looking over his metaphorical shoulder and trying to make sense of what he saw, the youngster said, If you already know they're easy to take advantage of ...?

In response, he only received a confusing series of jumbled flashes of a girl in a red dress with a bowl of soup and a long braid, and a deeply rooted jealously.
I don't remember a lot, Yan Wushi said grudgingly, but I do remember she liked A-Qiao a little too much.

Oh, his younger self snarked, now you're complaining your extremely admirable lover is attracting admirers?

They were leaving the light of the main cave behind. With some cistanche in hand to mitigate the risk, Yan Wushi felt much more comfortable using the cistance splinter as a light source.

It's a heavy burden to bear.

So the options that presented themselves were to find outside help, or turn Ruoqiang into a closed door meditation.
He chuckled. Well, the area was rich in natural qi ... even if the feng shui was horrid.
He ducked into an alcove and lowered himself into a meditation to clean house on his injuries. He'd be able to go find Shen Qiao when he was done.

Except. A while later, when he had fixed most of his broken ribs and some of the organ ruptures, he thought he heard something from afar - light, dragging footsteps, like someone searching the path forward with the tips of their feet because they were functionally blind and used to it - and he decided to check it out.
He found he couldn't move.

His younger self had read his intentions and flared into action, indignant and furious, fighting him so badly they ended up completely nullifying each other's efforts, effectively paralyzing themselves.

The steps returned twice more before fading for good.

Chapter Text

We can talk about this, Yan Wushi tried to reason.

You're welcome to talk as much as you like, his younger self said, audibly smug.

Now that was a rookie mistake. Never say that to me. Don't you remember I'm you?

Impossible, his younger self said. I wouldn't ever be dumb enough to loosen my grip on my physical body while someone else is in there.

That was, regrettably, true. Yan Wushi should have made the other him do the healing. But in truth, he just hadn't registered him as a threat.

They stewed for a while.

At some point, Yan Wushi gave up fighting - his situation was unfavorable, but not acutely dangerous. For Xie Ling and Ah-Yan, they had all switched repeatedly, so maybe they would take turns this time again and he just needed to bide his time - and returned to weaving their skin back together and fixing themselves up. The whole thing was no reason to waste time, after all.

For lack of something better to do, he began to talk.
So what told you for sure who I was.

Younger Yan Wushi thought of the absurd glee and schadenfreude of inflicting this mad house of horrors on others and agreeing whole-heartedly with the sentiment. Oh, you know, he said. Just technique.
(Of psychological warfare, but the other didn't need to know that.)

Younger Yan Wushi pondered. It was obvious Guang Lingsan had done something, and his older self was mad about it, mad enough to go through decades of time ...

Are you here to kill Guang Lingsan? he asked.

I see how you got that idea, older him said after a pause, but it's actually the other way around. Remember that book in Cui Youwang's -

Younger Yan Wushi scoffed. Of course. It had a horrible writing style. The author was chronically incapable of getting to the point.

Yes, that one. Older Yan Wushi was silent for a while.
If we have to wait here, we may as well use the time. Let's go over everything that happened so far and compare where the timelines diverged. Start at the secluded meditation. When did you come out?

In a fit of spite, younger Yan Wushi intentionally skipped anything to do with Shen Qiao, so the first major difference was the theft at Moving Clouds Monastery.

Oh, so Bai Rong did return as well, his older self said with narrowed, glittering eyes. It felt dangerous.

A puzzle piece clicked into place. That explains her sudden improvement, said Yan Wushi.

Mn. Next time you see her, she's probably already back to being sect leader.

Yan Wushi found he liked that thought even less than his older self did.

I can't believe you thought he was some sort of deceptive mastermind who stalked you for some reason, his older self said, chuckling.

Oh, sure, Yan Wushi said sarcastically. Time travel makes SO much more sense -

WHAT is this Xie Xiang brat doing near my Ah-Qiao.

- Is this the part where you lecture me for bullying our baby cousin?

HAHAHAHA no. This is the part where I lecture you for not bullying him harder. How DARE he.

BIAN YANMEI IS MISSING? WHAT DO YOU MEAN, BIAN YANMEI IS MISSING??!

We seriously haven't annexed Qi yet?

- I'm beginning to think I liked your future a lot better.

Okay, you took way too long to figure out it was Bai Rong, his older self declared. Here's a new lesson: whenever anything in our life goes wrong, there's a 60% chance it's Bai Rong's fault.

Yak Wushi scowled. What, this whole mess too?

He received the impression of a scowl back. This one is on Guang Lingsan, the old snake. ... I suppose Bai Rong could have done significantly worse than what she ended up doing.

Please tell me you haven't started being grateful or something.

Of course not, older him said, sounding offended.

That was one relief.

There was a brief silence. Then he could feel older him starting to work on the flaw in their demonic core.

It turned out Banna and her grandfather hadn't received any visitors. Shen Qiao had asked to be allowed to stay for a few days, explaining he was searching for a friend who was likely injured.

Banna's grandfather had scoffed, a worry line between his eyes. "In this desert? I hate to discourage you, but the chances are low. If he has been out there for the night, he must have frozen to death by now."

Shen Qiao smiled. "He's more hardy than you know."

The grandfather drily raised an eyebrow. "Foolhardy?"

Shen Qiao thought of Yan Wushi walking into the ambush with his eyes open and shrugged. "That, too."

Mh, your core actually isn't bad for this point in time. How come?

Wouldn't you like to know, Yan Wushi said thornily.

... it was Shen Qiao, wasn't it.

It wasn't, actually. He offered me that scroll, which I assume you actually took -

Older Yan Wushi gave the mental impression of holding his head in his hands, mouth forming curses completely silently.

Yan Wushi laughed coldly, disbelief slipping into his voice. You really just trusted him? I must be going soft in my old age after -

The laughter froze in his throat. Ineffectually, he scrabbled at the marionette strings to their body and only found an iron grip holding onto them, impossible to pry loose.

My abilities were great, and I rightly knew it even back then, older him said, his voice chilly. But it has to be said that my opinion of them may have been a sliver - no matter how narrow that sliver was - exaggerated.

He held the strings for another moment before, letting go.

I'm not going to go near Shen Qiao anyway as long as you exist, he said grudgingly. I don't trust you with him.

Yan Wushi had the sudden contrary impulse of going to find Shen Qiao right now, but he was busy yanking the strings back and bringing his heart rate back under control. He was keeping a suspicious eye on the interloper as he continued, Let's just agree on crossing all of Guang Lingsan's plans in the meantime. We should have that much in common, at least.

There was a beat of silence until Yan Wushi caught a half-suppressed beat of, Though I can't believe you IGNORED the only relevant Zhuyang Ce scroll when it was SERVED TO YOU ON A PLATTER -

Since we're talking about the thing with Shen Qiao anyway, Yan Wushi began when older him seemed to have calmed down somewhat. It had taken several minutes.

Older him gave a tired sound of acquiescence, which Yan Wushi took as an invitation to continue.

How on earth did that happen.

Older him gave a toneless sigh. Then he said drily, I suppose since you shared so nicely, I should return the favor.

Yan Wushi opened his eyes quarter of a lifetime later.

... I guess, Yan Wushi said, recalcitrant and hating himself for the admission.

His older self intervened and redirected thr conversation. One way or another, the next step is to take down Guang Lingsan.

Yes. Yan Wushi paused. It's a shame, though. He's such a competent weiqi partner.

They shared a moment of disappointment before his older version cleared his throat.

Alright, our core is usable again.

Oh, I see how it is,Yan Wushi ribbed. While it was broken, it was my core. Now that it's fixed, it's our core?

Smart kid. Now let's get out of here.

The two days after the ambush, Shen Qiao had meticulously combed through the surrounding villages and, with the help of a guide, much of the desert.

When Shen Qiao returned to the house on the third evening - the first one had been spent in Ruoqiang -, Banna's grandfather was already waiting for him.

"There's a friend of yours who came to see you waiting for you in the living room," the old man said, cutting their greetings short. "Looked beaten to hell and back, though. Do you know -"

Shen Qiao hurried into the room, skidding to a halt in the doorway.

In the chair at the front of the table, removing dried blood from skin and hair with a wet cloth and a bowl of warm water, sat Bai Rong.

"Bai-niangzi," Shen Qiao said, shoulders not quite falling but lowering slightly while he shrugged off the disappointment. He shook his head slightly before furrowing his brow. "It's good to see you. Are you alright?"

Bai Rong gestured dismissively. "It's fine, you should see the other guy. I got into a bit of a scuffle with Xueting, that's all," she added at his questioning glance. "Don't worry about it, it will heal. About you, though." She set down the cloth and leaned forward.

"You need to get a move on. If news of this ambush travels faster than you, it'll be too late to stop Yuwen Yun."

She abandoned the conversation and turned to the door with a smirk.

Leaning against the door frame, Banna blushes and tried to look less like she had been eavesdropping.

"Would you like to study martial arts, perchance?" Bai Rong asked cheerfully. "We can always use new students."

Blindsided, Banna stumbled through a few words that could be read as tentative agreement if one was so inclined.

"Wonderful. Then you can leave with me when I go." Reading the hesitation correctly, Bai Rong added, "Don't worry about the details and your grandfather now. We'll talk about it later." She winked.

Banna ducked behind the door frame, visibly red, while Bai Rong turned back to Shen Qiao as if nothing had happened.

"In any case, if you're not going to rescue Yuwen Yong, I'd like to know beforehand, because then Qi can launch an invasion the day he dies."

Shen Qiao inclined his head. "Very gracious of you to inform me," he said drily, making his decision. "I'll leave today."

Yan Wushi was standing on a hill, overlooking the nightly plain.
The older voice said calculatingly, It has been three days since the ambush now. Then he probably isn't waiting around anymore and started travelling to Chang'an to save Yuwen Yong.

That's pointless, said the younger one. What is he doing? We have a spare and some other options lined up. Emperors are a dime a dozen, there's only one Yan Wushi.

The older voice was only half listening, but even if he had been fully paying attention, it wouldn't have occurred to him to point out there were currently two of them.

This way, he only said absently, yes, but he has that thing about saving lives. Never mind. Chang'an?

A deep, weary sigh followed. I suppose. Chang'an it is.

Don't sound so grudging, the older voice chided. Yuwen Yun-ior was unbearably annoying as Emperor.

I can imagine, the younger voice sneered. We should just take one of the monkeys with us and dress it up in his clothes. Nobody would spot the difference.

It would be such a rapid development in martial arts, though! said the older one with a flash of humor. Isn't that too hard to believe?

Despite their banter, the younger voice was starting to slip into the background. It was, for lack of a better word, fading, as if now that they weren't actively fighting it anymore, between two overlaid pictures one was morphing into the other. The overlap was growing with every hour.

Yan Wushi rolled his shoulders and also began the journey towards Chang'an.

Shen Qiao had woken up at Xie Residence, on his overfamiliar sick bed.
Bai Rong had woken up on her way to Moving Clouds Monastery, on her fateful mission to obtain the Book of Free Will.
Yan Wushi had woken up in the middle of the fateful ambush that had turned his life upside down.

It was just Shiwu's luck that had him waking up in a dark, narrow dungeon cell where he had never been in his life.

Chapter Text

Guang Lingsan had not been having a good day so far. To put it more precisely, he hadn't been having a particularly good week, month, or even year.

First, Sect Leader Bai - as much as it galled him to call the young upstart that - had for some reason not only shown up during the ritual, but also veritably come out of nowhere, snatched the representative token and jumped into the active summoning circle before they had finished fine-tuning it.

That had been bad, but not catastrophic. Guang Lingsan had followed her and found that they all had landed shortly after the first duel of Banbu Peak.

They were barely too late to pick up Shen Qiao from the foot of the mountain, so Guang Lingsan dispatched three elders to hunt down one Bai Rong, disciple of Sang Jingxing, and comforted himself with the thought of how much the venerable Bai-zongzhu had to resent the sudden demotion. They would just snatch up Shen Qiao when he inevitably was thrown out of Xie Residence for disobeying orders.

Shen Qiao had failed to appear on the road the spring day in question. He had also failed to appear at the run-down temple down in the city. He had also failed to show up anywhere near Commandery Prince Mu Tipo during the next few days, which went to show the man just had no manners at all - since if one returned to the past, surely the first thing one did was resettling old grudges.

They hadn't had any success in killing Bai Rong either, which was a shame, but secondary to finding Shen Qiao before he showed up to the Coiling Dragon Fair again.

Their continued failure to find him was troubling. If Shen Qiao had retained his memories somehow, he would know to avoid them and make it almost impossible to predict where he would show up.
After some pondering, Guang Lingsan realized there was one location Shen Qiao was guaranteed to visit: the place where he had encountered his first disciple, Shiwu.
Well, Guang Lingsan decided, if he was already sending people there, they might as well kidnap the boy in question.
Oh, did he say kidnap? Of course he had meant buy, since the boy's father was far too eager to keep himself from starving to spare a thought for his children. The venture had ended up being successful, at least after they had figured out the boy's name hadn't always been Shiwu and they really did have the right kid.

In the meantime, Shen Qiao had resurfaced. Apparently he still hadn't gotten rid of his bad habit of getting kidnapped by Yan Wushi at regular intervals, but at least they were heading towards the city they wanted them at.
At an opportune moment, they sprung their trap.

As it turned out, Shen Qiao definitely still had his memories and at least part of his martial arts. It was very good they had kidnapped his favorite student, or they wouldn't have any leverage to work with.
In that vein, the more hostages the better. Kidnapping literal Prince of Zhou Yuwen Yong was more trouble than it was worth and nobody knew where Shen Qiao had found Duan Ying anyway, so the lot fell on Bian Yanmei, who Shen Qiao seemed to have an at least cordial relationship with.

Knowing Shen Qiao had returned with them, it had become risky to wait until the ambush to kill Yan Wushi. The next best opportunity was directly after his duel with Ruyan Kehui, because the longer they couldn't pin down Shen Qiao, the more time he had to return to his formidable old strength.

Then, for some reason, Bai Rong had been there to help Yan Wushi, which really went against all laws of nature, and then Shen Qiao had magically appeared from within the cave, and to add insult to injury, then Yan Wushi had woken up.
At that point, Guang Lingsan just signaled to abort the mission.

The following news cycle was something along the lines of,
Kunye's martial arts are destroyed? and, not even a few days later, The crown prince of Zhou is WHERE? and then an, Oh wow, Gao Wei died.

Without much hope, he sent someone to the place where Sang Jingxing and Shen Qiao had fought almost to the death last time, in case they could find a heavily injured Shen Qiao there.
Instead, the men he had sent found a freshly dug grave, which contained a decapitated Sang Jingxing.

It was strange to think how that had happened, but Guang Lingsan was occupied with far more pressing questions like Where the hell is Shen Qiao? What is Bai Rong doing? Why is Yuan Xiuxiu even more annoying now that Sang Jingxing is dead? And how come Han Eying and Bixia sect are somehow reforming Qi now?

Then The Ambush itself had failed, and all of these questions had suddenly ceased to matter.
The only one left was, Where could Shen Qiao possibly be hiding Yan Wushi?

One of his students, Feng Xiao, had found and picked him up, after he had stumbled out of Ruoqiang barely in one piece, supporting him all the way to the city, where they had taken a carriage to Fajing Sect's head quarters. Which just went to show how badly injured he was. What self-respecting martial artist took a carriage for a journey of less than six hours?

Monkeys.

Guang Lingsan shuddered.

"What news?" he finally asked once he had passed the gates of the Mirror of Arts Sect's headquarters.

Feng Xiao hummed thoughtfully. "For one, Buddhist Master Xueting disappeared."

Guang Lingsan sighed as he got off the carriage. "I should have seen that coming. Probably Shen Qiao, somehow." He turned to one of the elders who had come out to greet him. "Search the desert and the surrounding villages. Yan Wushi is injured, and I want him found." He handed off Shanhe Tongbei to a servant. Without turning to him, he said, "Take this to my office, and have someone draw me a bath. Also ..." he sighed and looked back to Feng Xiao. "Since there's at least one thing that went according to plan, where are our prisoners? Have there been any escape attempts?"

Feng Xiao bowed slightly. "Bian Yanmei is safely locked up, but he still refuses to talk to us."

Massaging his shoulder, Guang Lingsan sighed. "Shame. He's a politician, why does he have to have a spine ... oh, and that kid. Shen-zhangjiao's student. How is he?"

Feng Xiao paused. "He seemed fine the last time I checked. He stopped crying and started eating. I think he's even putting on some weight."
From prison food. Feng Xiao internally curled his lips. Just what kind of famine had that kid come from?

Guang Lingsan nodded. "Take extra care with that one. He's far less useful to us dead."

Feng Xiao inclined his head. "I'll go check in on him right now."

Guang Lingsan dropped his ruined clothing to the floor and carefully stepped into the hot water before carefully beginning to scrub the dried blood from his skin. The hot water burned in the cuts, but it was a clean type of burning, washing out whatever venom had been on the monkey's claws.
When he finished, he put a warm cloth over his eyes, leaned back against the edge of the tub and relaxed.

Only a few minutes later, the door opened with a cool draft.
Without moving or looking, Guang Lingsan asked flatly, "What."

"He's gone," said Feng Xiao from the door.

Alarmed, Guang Lingsan pulled away the cloth to look at him. "Bian Yanmei?"

Feng Xiao was uncharacteristically hesitant. "No. The, er."

Guang Lingsan got his feet under himself in a splashing wave of bath water. "The ELEVEN YEAR OLD?"

Shiwu, on his way out of the kitchens with a satchel full of supplies, heard the alarm sounding through the estate and cringed.

Shiwu had woken up in a cell. Upon taking stock of his surroundings, he hadn't been able to find out much more than what had been immediately obvious, amounting to
A, he was in a dungeon,
B, he wanted to get out,
C, so did Bian Yanmei of Huanyue Sect in the cell next to his.

Shiwu hadn't survived until now by being indecisive or rash. He had played along, eating, meditating, and watching.
After two days, he caught and killed a rat.
Taking it apart with his bare hands and the coarse cell walls was bloody and delicate work. By the time he was done, hands were covered in blood and gore past the wrists, but he had uncovered the ribcage without damaging it.

Bian Yanmei was in the cell next to him, partitioned off by a set of metal bars, too narrow to admit even Shiwu's tiny frame, but broad enough they could see and reach through. Unlike Shiwu, he was wrapped in chains and leather from head to toe, only allowing him to move in tiny increments.

The perils of being perceived as dangerous, Shiwu supposed. You couldn't move using qi if you couldn't move, period.

Bian Yanmei hadn't been taking him very seriously so far and had mostly paid attention to him for lack of anything else going on. Right now, he was watching Shiwu with one part fascination and two parts disgust. "What are you doing," he asked with a wrinkled nose.

In lieu of an answer, Shiwu pried loose a rib and began to pick his handcuffs with them.

The first bone cracked between his fingers, forcing him to pry the splinters out of the lock.
Unperturbed, he picked up another rib.

Bian Yanmei's look of deepest skepticism crumbled into nothingness with the clicking sound of the lock opening.

Internally smirking, Shiwu pocketed the handcuffs and tried to look innocent.

Bian Yanmei had started to smile in a very friendly way. "Hey, kid," he said, watching him closely. "Could you, by any chance, do the same for me?"

Bian-xiong really is not as good a manipulator as he thinks he is, Shiwu thought. That wouldn't even have worked on me when I actually was a kid. Still, after chancing a look towards the end of the corridor where the guards were posted to make sure they weren't listening, he said, "Of course."

Leaning against the grid separating them, Bian Yanmei brought the lock on his straightjacket close enough for Shiwu's small hands to reach.
The process was tricky; having smaller hands was useful, but Shiwu was still having trouble adjusting to their reduced strength and kept misjudging it.
He broke another one of the ribs that way. Bian Yanmei grimaced as Shiwu slipped on the smooth wet bone and smeared rat blood over his sleeve.

For Shiwu and his Shizun, it usually wasn't noticeable anymore, but they had both been street kids once, and in some way, they would never stop being street kids. In Shizun, it showed in how crafty he was, his quick thinking and his level-headed pragmatism, that when he was left with nothing in an unfamiliar city, he could set up a fortune-telling stall.
In Shiwu himself, he wasn't quite sure of the ways it showed most of the time, but he knew he at least wouldn't flinch at someone getting animal blood over his sleeve while trying to free him.

The last lock clicked beneath his fingers.
Shiwu risked another look towards the guards at the end of the tunnel. Their cells weren't the only ones in this dungeon - not by a long shot - but the man across from them was sleeping or dozing, they were at the end of this row, and for the time being, the guards were still distracted. Shiwu wondered what was going on outside.

He beckoned Bian Yanmei closer and whispered. "I'll open our doors. We'll need food to get away from here, though. I can sneak out first. You wait and we'll meet up by the stables once it's dark, alright?"

Bian Yanmei looked at him, bemused. Then he nodded.

Two locks and one minute later, Shiwu snuck past the guards - qinggong really was a wonderful thing, especially since it required a sense of subtlety and good instincts more than muscle and raw qi, so it had mostly traveled with him - and made his way towards the kitchen.

At first, Bian Yanmei waited patiently. Whether he was following the child's plan or not, if he wanted to escape, having to be mindful of a small child was sure to slow him down. It was better to let the boy get a headstart.
He had remained wrapped up in his trappings to keep up appearances, so when he saw Feng Xiao check Shiwu's cell, he pretended to still be sleeping.

His heart was beating quickly, but his head remained cool and analytical.
Nobody noticed the lock on his door was slightly shifted and the door itself a millimeter away from the deadbolt sliding home.

He could feel Feng Xiao's eyes boring into his back and pretended not to. After a few agonizing moments, the gaze swept away from him. Feng Xiao turned and called for an estate-wide search.

After they were gone, the guards were more alert - but their attention was turned towards the outside as well, in case they could spot the prisoner.

At some point, someone would come back and investigate exactly how Shiwu had broken out. At that point, it would inevitably come to light that Bian Yanmei had been freed from his bindings.
He couldn't risk that.

From the end of the tunnel, he could hear one of the guards say, What was that?
Indistinct and muffled, the other asked a question. The first one replied, There. I saw something move -

Bian Yanmei had weakened from starvation and lack of exercise - on purpose, of course - so it was a risk. But he wasn't going to get another chance this good.

He gently pushed against the gate, trying to keep the slide of metal on metal quiet.
There was no reaction yet.
On the next centimeter, the door gave an ear-piercing screech.

Bian Yanmei cringed internally while he threw it open all the way and darted out.
A skilled martial artist could turn even flowers and leaves into lethal weapons. Bian Yanmei didn't have flowers and leaves at his disposal.
He had a bunch of sharp bone fragments.

The fight was short and silent, over almost as soon as the guards had turned towards the noise. A bone splinter pierced the neck of the first one before he had even finished turning. The other one barely managed to block a piece of the rat's spine before another went through his head.

Bian Yanmei was with them quickly enough to catch the guards when they fell.

Ignoring the pleas of the others, Bian Yanmei stripped one of the guards, stole his uniform and weapon, and left.

It was a very good escape attempt. It was just his bad luck that upon entering the courtyard, the first person he ran into was Guang Lingsan on his search for Shiwu, dressed but with his hair dripping water all over his robes.

Shiwu, when he heard the alarm, thought very quickly. He opened a window, stuck out his head out and climbed along the façade before swinging up onto a balcony. The adjoining room was deserted. Quiet as a mouse, Shiwu pushed open the balcony door and entered.

The room was clearly designed as a study. Hearing steps approaching from outside, Shiwu slid under the low desk, laying flat on his stomach. It was a good thing he was so small, or he really wouldn't have fit.

Someone opened the door, halting at the threshold.

"What are you doing?" snapped a second person. "There's a manhunt going on. Stop dallying!"

"I was just checking," defended the first person, approaching the desk. "Maybe he's in here, we can't know."

"In the sect leader's office? Seriously? Come on."

The first person set down something heavy on the desk before turning back to the door.
Together, the two people left.

Waiting a few minutes more to be sure, Shiwu didn't dare make a noise. Then he crawled out and stared at the sword lying across the desk.
It was, without a doubt, Shanhe Tongbei, missing any sort of sheath and only wrapped loosely in cloth.
It wasn't even oiled.

Time was of the essence, and Shiwu was far too small to wield a longsword made for an adult at the moment. Still, he couldn't just abandon the sword here.

He had packed all sorts of things he had thought might be useful. Out of some leather strings and the pouch itself, he fashioned something that would hopefully let him keep Shanhe Tongbei on his back without endangering himself or the general public. On an impulse, he began to ransack the cabinets.
He found a series of sketches for an array, as well as a date.
With great care, he rolled them and slid them into his pouch as well.

This put him in front of a problem: Guang Lingsan would definitely notice the papers were missing. When he did, he would know to change his plans, whatever they were.

After some thinking, Shiwu picked up a lamp for reading and took out the candle. He lit it, waited for a few seconds to allow the flame to catch properly, and tipped it over the rest of the correspondence.
The building was mostly wood. Something told him the property price was about to drop dramatically.

He turned towards the window to leave and jerked back in shock. Without his notice, a fight had started down in the courtyard.
Bian Yanmei was fighting and losing against what looked like half of the Mirror of Arts sect.

There was nothing Shiwu could do to help right now.

Taking full advantage of the fight in the courtyard having drawn everyone's attention, he left the office through the front door and left the residence through a servant's entance.
It was far easier than it should be for a child with a sword on his back that was almost longer than he was tall.

Shouldering his baggage, Shiwu began the journey back to the central plains to look for his Shizun.

Chapter Text

Until now, Yuwen Yun had been studying under a small, nominally independent Sect on the Zhou side of the border to Qi.
However, Yuan Xiuxiu had arranged that, through a series of misfortunes, the sect fell under Hehuan's control.
Of course someone like Yuwen Yun had no qualms about parasitic cultivation, so after she had taken over and kept supplying him with new people to draw strength from, he improved quickly.

One of the things Bai Rong had warned Shen Qiao about was that with the rising tensions with Qi, Yuwen Yong had begun to fear for his son's safety and had recalled him to the capital, together with the martial artist he was nominally studying under, under the pretext of wanting to reward his rapid advancements.

It was truly enough to make one sigh. If only it weren't so misguided.

That was why Shen Qiao was hurrying back to Chang'an to rescue Yuwen Yong from his son.

When Shen Qiao arrived in Chang'an, he went straight to the palace and requested an audience. People still remembered him as someone whose opinion Yuwen Yong had listened to once, so he was admitted in front the head eunuch - but there, he was told the Emperor was currently unavailable.

Politely, Shen Qiao bowed. "Respectfully, the news I bring is time sensitive. I believe the Emperor should hear it sooner rather than later."

The eunuch made an apologetic gesture. "We are grateful for your kindness, but we cannot admit you right now. His Majesty is currently conferring with his Highness in the throne room, and they absolutely mustn't be disturbed."

"Well, in that case," said Shen Qiao. "Which way is the throne room?"

He had been a private guest last time he had been here, and had never been to the more official capacities before the capital had been moved.

It was halfway across the compound.

Shen Qiao thanked the eunuch for the directions, kicked out a window and leaped down into the courtyard.
From above and behind, shouts of alarm rose, but he paid them no mind.
With three great leaps, he had crossed to the next wing of the palace, towards where the Emperor presided.
His steps grew quiet as he hurried up the stairs.

Yuwen Yun entered the throne room quietly. The emperor stood next to the throne, with his back to them. He was looking out over the courtyard below the window, half turning to Yuwen Yun when he heard him enter. Yuwen Yong looked stressed, but stern as always.

He bowed. "Father."

The martial artist behind him followed him through the door without making a sound.

Yuwen Yong mustered them both, frowning when his gaze fell to the second person. "This is your shifu?"
The woman who had entered looked in her early twenties and was, like most demonic practitioners, very pretty. She didn't look like Yuwen Yong expected a battle-hardened martial master to look like at all.

"My shifu unfortunately didn't make it," Yuwen Yun said with glittering eyes. "This is my martial aunt. She came to ensure my safety on the journey and to keep me company."

Yuwen Yong nodded, not quite pleased but at least settled. "Make sure your Shifu follows you to the capital soon.
With how much their power has grown, there's a war with Qi looming on the horizon, and I don't want him caught up in it."

Again, Yuwen Yun smiled. The sight was chilling. "Oh, there isn't going to be a war with Qi."

Turning fully for the first time, Yuwen Yong asked sharply, "What do you mean?"

"I mean you shouldn't have sent me to train martial arts." Yuwen Yun paused a little too long to be polite. "Your Majesty."

Without wasting any more time, he stepped forward. Before Yuwen Yong could react, his son had already sealed his acupoints.
The woman he had come with stepped forward. With a set of flawlessly elegant moves, she took out the guards who rush forward at that, quickly and silently. The last one, she stepped back to let Yuwen Yun handle himself.

When they were done, Yuwen Yun leaned down to his father almost affectionately. "Did you see how much I learned while I was gone? I picked up so many ways to kill you," he said. "I thought about it all the time on the way here, and I still can't decide.
"You may wonder how I plan to do this. I originally intended to poison you and fake having you die of an illness so I could take over.
"But then you sent me away, so I had no access to you or the contacts I would need for a successful coup. Who would have thought it would turn out to be a blessing in disguise?
"I met some people there, from harmony sect. They helped me immensely with this.
"You see, my martial aunt here," he said the title with a trace of irony, " will take the credit for killing you and escape after I pretend to injure her, and the blame will fall squarely on Zhongnan sect for missing an assassin in their ranks. I will wipe them out - they were terrible to me anyway - and take over, having avenged you as your filial son should.
"What do you think?"

Yuwen Yong's mute acupoint had been struck, rendering him incapable of speech, so his eyes just burned with silent rage.

Yuwen Yun laid out on the steps and backed up to deliver the lethal strike.

"Too bad Yan Wushi isn't here," he said gleefully. "He's the only one who could save you from me, and right now, he's far away!"

He brought his hand down with a palm strike.
At this moment, something shot through the air in front of him, nearly severing his arm at the shoulder.
Startled, he dodged back at the last moment. Then his head swiveled towards where the projectile had come from.

"Emperor Zhou," greeted Shen Qiao, emerging from between the pillars framing the side entrance. "It's good to see you again."

"You," Yuwen Yun said, despite not being addressed. His eyes had narrowed. "You were the one who advised my father to send me away."

"Yes, and I'm shocked."

Yuwen Yun laughed. "Shocked? Shocked about what?" Confidently, he spread his arms out to his sides. "Haven't I improved significantly?"

Coolly, Shen Qiao said, "I am shocked to find your character could actually detoriate further."

Yuwen Yun's face darkened. "Even if I'm an assassin, just now you scratched my forearm with that spear you threw at me. Only a member of the royal family may spill royal blood; I'm going to have your head for this. The entire palace will have it out for you. Won't you regret getting involved then?"

Shen Qiao gave a faint smile. "Who is going to make me? The guards?" The spear he had thrown had obviously been obtained from one of them, and most likely by force.
Shen Qiao moved Junzi Bu Qi in front of himself, but didn't unsheathe it.
"No. I'm afraid the only person who could save you from me is also Yan Wushi. And right now, he isn't here."

At this moment, a ripple of familiar qi passed through the palace. Mentally, Shen Qiao amended that statement to yet.

Yuwen Yun's face darkened further. He drew his weapon and attacked.

One can't really call what followed a fight any more than putting down Chen Gong would have been a fight. In fact, Shen Qiao reflected, even though the time frames of their learning periods had been similar and Chen Gong's resources had been far more limited, he might still have been superior to this prince.

In deference to Yuwen Yong, he attempted to be gentle. After only a few dozen moves, Yuwen Yun found himself on the floor, completely immobilized.

During the fight, the Harmony Sect Elder had fled.
Shen Qiao had a good idea of what had transpired: Bai Rong had warned her beforehand and tried to pull her over to her own side. If the assassination attempt had worked, zhe woman would have been a hero to her entire sect; once she saw they had no chance of succeeding, she had thrown in her lot with Bai Rong rather than remaining faithful to Yuan Xiuxiu and antagonizing Shen Qiao, who Bai Rong wanted to foster good relations with.
It was a win for her either way, why should she care what happened to Yuwen Yun?

After he had made sure the assassin wasn't lingering anywhere anymore, he went and unblocked Yuwen Yong's acupoints.
Then Shen Qiao turned towards the curtains and smiled. In a gentle tone, he said, "Aren't you going to come out?"

He had noticed that in the shadow beneath the heavy curtains, a tiny pair of shoes were concealed.
After a second of hesitating, a young girl of perhaps seven years found her way out between the folds.

Yuwen Yong had sat up after Shen Qiao had unblocked his acupoints and was now rubbing the feeling back into his tingling limbs. Passing Shen Qiao by shyly and a little nervously, the little girl broke into a run one she was between the two men and threw herself across the Emperor's knees, who immediately patted her head and comforted her.
It was clear the whole proceedings had frightened the child terribly, but she was still very composed for her age.

This was Dou Yan, the Emperor's favored niece.

"There, look, I'm alright," he said in a consoling voice while the child clung to his leg.

"You almost weren't!" Dou Yan's eyes were bright, with a mixture of fright and fury.

"Well, now I am." Yuwen Yong threw a dark look towards his son.

Dou Yan sniffed. "I wanted to help but I really was too scared to ... I don't like him! He's, he's," she had to take a moment to sound out the word, "dishonorable."

"You know what," the Emperor gave her a smile after one last look towards his son, "I think you're right. It seems your cousin can't handle all this responsibility he has been given. I know you're a clever child, so why don't you take over for him?"

Yuwen Yun, hearing this lying on the floor, grew first pale and then red.
Shen Qiao hadn't hit his mute acupoint, so he could still shout in fury, "A seven year old girl? You can't do that!"

Yuwen Yong threw him a look as cold as ice. "For the job you have been doing? She's overqualified, really."

That very moment, the double doors to the room slammed open.

Without turning, Shen Qiao knew who it was.

Yuwen Yong straightened up on the stairs to the throne and gave a curt, civil nod. "Yan-Zongzhu."

(Dou Yan quietly stepped around to his other side so she was out of the way of the conversation.)

"I rushed here to come help, but I see Shen-zhangjiao has the situation well in hand," said the scoundrel with a smile in his voice.

"Agreed."

"Mh, he's done a marvelous job," said Yan Wushi, not at all deterred by Shen Qiao not looking at him.

In a cool, detached voice, Shen Qiao said, "I really can't accept the praise. The Emperor has offered me kindness in the past, so what I did was to be expected."

"I disagree," Yan Wushi said. "You've really gone above and beyond. I'm sure there's nobody in this world who could find fault with what you did."

Shen Qiao didn't reply, and still refused to look at him.

Finally, Yan Wushi dropped the smile, replacing it with a slightly hurt tone that Shen Qiao didn't trust for a minute. "I traveled all this way just to see you, and this is how you treat me?"

Just now, you said you were here for the assassination attempt!
But, having learned the lesson,
Shen Qiao continued to remain silent.

Yan Wushi continued, sighing and shaking his head. "I can't believe this is how you welcome your husband of twenty years."

Without his say-so, Shen Qiao's head turned, hope reigniting in his chest.

Yan Wushi was giving him that infuriating half-smile of his while holding out his arms.

Hesitant, Shen Qiao took a single step towards him. Immediately, Yan Wushi had crossed the room and gripped his sleeve, tugging him off into the next room and shutting the door behind them with a decisive clack.
It was a private room for the emperor to relax in between petitions, but there were still several entrances for servants to pass through with food and refreshments.

Throwing only a short look across the room to ascertain that it was empty, Yan Wushi wasted no time to pin him against the wall and start tugging at his collar.

"We're basically in public," Shen Qiao argued.
Yan Wushi unsurprisingly won the fight against his collar and began kissing the side of his neck. "Mmh, that wasn't a no."

Hissing quietly, Shen Qiao shifted his weight and asked, "Do you want people to see us?"

Yan Wushi delivered a firm bite to his neck, then his ear, before murmuring right next to it, "That still wasn't a no." Then he started kissing him on the mouth ruthlessly, moved to the sofa meant for guests and let his hands roam.

"Insatiable," murmured Shen Qiao the next time he had enough breath to talk.

"Starved," countered Yan Wushi. His lips were curving into a other smile even as they moved down the line of his collar bone. "I haven't been near you in months, what is there that could have tried and failed to sate me?"
He bit something into his neck that Shen Qiao knew would bruise spectacularly. "You'll see insatiable, oh ..." He shifted on his elbows. "about three hours from now."

Shen Qiao made a noise against his shoulder, barely muffled, and went red. Considerate and selfless person that he was, Yan Wushi helped him out by kissing him quiet.

Chapter Text

The palace had a number of guest quarters, and, being intended for diplomatic visits, they were luxurious enough to have their own courtyards, one of which Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi were currently occupying. Without Bian Yanmei, it had just seemed off to go back to the local Cleansing Moon Sect quarter, one of the innumerable Xie Residences that could be found almost anywhere across the country.
The courtyard had a beautiful garden, complete with a tranquil pond, elegantly curved bridge, and immaculately trimmed hedges. In the dappled shade of a tree, Shen Qiao could be found reading, with Yan Wushi resting his head in his lap. A leaf lazily fluttered down between them.

After a while, Shen Qiao lowered his book to look at Yan Wushi, who had been mustering him thoughtfully for a while.
Shen Qiao raised an eyebrow. "Is there something you want to speak about?"

"This venerable one was just thinking," Yan Wushi said and shifted to get more comfortable. "When you woke up in Funing district ... that was when you came back, right?"

"En," Shen Qiao nodded. "It was a helpful point to start at."

A different person in possession of all the facts might have pointed out what an insane thing to say that was. Yan Wushi just smiled instead.

Shen Qiao looked down at Yan Wushi with mild curiosity. "Why?"

"I'm just sorry I missed it, is all."

"You mean you would have kept me from leaving?"

"Mh, no. Well, yes, I would have interfered with your plans. Though following you to Mt Xuandu would also have been fun ... But that's not what I meant. How was coming back for you? I'm really curious to how you dealt with your old self. Did it feel like splintering? Did you confront any facets of your personality you usually repress?"

Shen Qiao just tilted his head slightly in confusion, for once looking very much like his deer namesake.

Yan Wushi smiled up at him with merry amusement.
"Tell me, just how many versions of you did I miss out on? Any Xie Lings? Any others?"

Shen Qiao's brow furrowed slightly. "What do you mean?" Thinking of something else, he put the book down completely.
"Actually, speaking of when we came back. Why didn't you come see me directly after the ambush?"

"For the same reason as last time," Yan Wushi replied, "other me had objections."

Shen Qiao grew alarmed. "So you received a head injury after all," he said, reaching for Yan Wushi's wrist. "Let me check on you."

Giving his wrist up easily, Yan Wushi shook his head. "Just some cuts and internal injuries. It was just that when I arrived, there was already a person occupying my body, how could he just give it up? Of course we had to work things out first."

Shen Qiao, having checked his pulse and relaxing again, frowned at him.

Drily, Yan Wushi said, "Judging by your expression, you didn't do the same?"

Still frowning, Shen Qiao's look focused on something in the middle distance for a moment before his eyes closed. "No," he said slowly, opening them again. "But if I listen very closely, there's a feeling of ... gentle reassurance coming back that isn't quite an echo. I just didn't notice before."

Shen Qiao's expression had turned intrigued, if mildly surprised. Yan Wushi watched his face affectionately while lamenting to himself that the world truly was unfair, not giving him the chance to meet different versions of Shen Qiao.
Well, there always was getting him drunk, when it came to that.

"I think when I woke up, I already knew the solution to my problems, and younger me agreed and went along with them because he suddenly had access to more information. We were just ... very harmonious, perfectly working together. And I never really stopped to wonder what had happened to younger me, since I was still myself. It didn't occur to me there should be two versions," Shen Qiao said thoughtfully.

Yan Wushi hummed in agreement. "You once were that Shen Qiao, so for you it was just going back in your footsteps. Meanwhile I was never that Yan Wushi, and there was a stretch of time where we developed independently. The timeline had changed already and I had to continue from an unfamiliar branch."

Yuan Xiuxiu instead of Xueting, Kosa Sage instead of Dou Yanshan. What a strange team of people for an ambush.

"And we really didn't agree on a lot. Especially his relationship with you was very different. It took us a while to find common ground."

Mentally, Shen Qiao added, Not to mention your relationship with yourself is extremely different, too. Every version of you always thinks it's superior to all others. Don't think I don't remember you fighting with your past selves all the time! Outwardly, though, he just smiled and turned away.

"What?" Yan Wushi asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, I'm just glad it all worked out well," Shen Qiao said, picking the book back up to turn away.

Still narrowing his eyes, Yan Wushi playfully caught him by the wrist. "No, that's not it."

"Well," Shen Qiao said, catching his eyes again and smiling, "this time it almost sounds like you made peace with your past self instead of suppressing it. Congratulations on progressing on your spiritual journey."

"M-Hm," replied Yan Wushi in a tone that clearly said, you are not being subtle. "Stop being so smug and come here."
Yan Wushi tugged him closer. Shen Qiao went.

It was a good while later when Shen Qiao murmured, "Also, why didn't you visit Banna and her grandfather once you remembered. It was really the most logical point to meet up." Leaning as closely together as they were, he could feel Yan Wushi begin to radiate displeasure almost instantly.

"Maybe you liked it there, but I'm certainly never letting her get near you again."

Still with his eyes closed, Shen Qiao couldn't resist making fun of him a little. "Well if you had shown up, you wouldn't have left me alone with them for three days."

The silence that followed could only be described as appalled. When Shen Qiao opened his eyes to check, he was greeted by a look that said, Oh? I get injured and my love immediately goes astray and starts looking at other people? The world is cruel and injust.

Shen Qiao sighed with fond exasperation. "Come now. The age gap is a bit too ..." His words caught up with him and he stumbled a bit. "I mean, don't you think ..."

Yan Wushi narrowed his eyes. "Oh? Do tell, how much of an age gap is too much of an age gap?"

Realizing that everything he could say would only serve to make things worse, Shen Qiao hurriedly backtracked. "Actually, never mind."

He was saved by a messenger entering the courtyard that very moment. Seeing as he dared disturb them without previous warning, it was probably some sort of official.

"Junior Preceptor Yan, Shen-daozhang," he said, bowing deeply. Sitting up more straight to look at him, Shen Qiao discovered an official looking scroll in his hands. That was pretty much all he saw before Yan Wushi's arm around his waist tightened again to pull him closer.
Clearly displeased at the interruption, Yan Wushi threw a glare across the courtyard, emitting what in other settings was usually described as 'bloodlust'.

The minister stuttered through the rest of his greeting.
"I, I have a message for -"

Seeing as Yan Wushi had bo intention of getting up to return the greeting, Shen Qiao gave up on freeing himself. "We appreciate you dropping it off in person. There's no need for formalities, just leave it at the table."

"I, I see. Thank you. I'ts just, I was also instructed to tell you it's about the sword trial conference at Chunyang Monastery and..."
The glare across Shen Qiao's shoulder intensified and the official swallowed the rest of his words.

Shen Qiao sighed. "Many thanks for delivering the letter," he said politely. "I'm sure it's alright with whoever sent you if you leave now."

"And do remember to pass my regards on to whoever sent you," Yan Wushi added, his voice honey-sweet. "The timing really was impeccable."

Nodding and tripping over his feet in his haste to get away, the official bumped into the door frame twice before he made it back inside.

Shen Qiao sighed and settled back down to cuddle. Shaking his head, he said to Yan Wushi with quiet amusement, "Remind me, why did I marry you again?"

Yan Wushi smiled lazily up at him from beneath lowered eyelids. "Because I said yes."

Chapter Text

They remained in the garden until nightfall, moving inside when the air turned crisp with the evening chill.
To the side of the room, Yan Wushi settled into a meditation to stabilize his core some more, smoothing out minor inconsistencies left over from being two people at odds with each other.

A good deal later, Shen Qiao could sense he was done - the atmosphere in the room shifted just so, depending on whether Yan Wushi was paying attention to it or not. The rest of his meditation was just clean-up now, so even though he hadn't moved, they could have a conversation.

As if continuing a conversation from earlier, Shen Qiao asked, "And this other version of you is just ... gone?"

Without opening his eyes, Yan Wushi hummed and shook his head. "He's still there, if faintly. Just a voice stuck in my head that's making annoying comments all the time."

To himself, Shen Qiao thought, Are you sure that's not just the way you always are?

He hadn't said a word, but they knew each other well enough it didn't matter. Yan Wushi opened one eye. "I beg your pardon. What was that just now?"

"Hm, nothing," Shen Qiao said, turning away to hide his smile.

They fell back into silence for a few seconds, Yan Wushi uncharacteristically letting something go for once. He then stretched and rose, crossing the room towards where Shen Qiao was folding his outer robes for the night.

"At the conference, I will need to speak to a few people," Shen Qiao began.
He didn't bother raising the topic of if they were going. They usually were in accord.
"Mh," said Yan Wushi. "It's likely that if Guang Lingsan is planning something, there'll be someone there who knows."

Shen Qiao gave a nod. "Also, if he's still planning to kill you, Hulugu is his best chance. Since he'll probably make an appearance, it would be good to see him."

"Since he isn't too busy visiting something as boring as the sword meet'n'greet," used to the antics, Shen Qiao didn't even blink at the moniker, "we might as well make use of it." Yan Wushi paused. "And also ..."

"Bian Yanmei." Shen Qiao folded his belt and laid it neatly on top of his day clothes. "We can't be certain it's Guang Lingsan behind it, and even if we assume he is, we have no idea where they might be keeping him. There's a chance someone heard something."

At this point, they had both finished dressing for sleep. Technically, it was Shen Qiao's room, but if that wasn't something that had bothered Yan Wushi all the way back on their journey to Zhou, it certainly wasn't going to bother them now.

"So by the way," Yan Wushi began in a tone bordering on casual. Shen Qiao didn't think it was odd until he continued. "I've been getting some of the memories from this timeline back, and if younger me remembers correctly, you said something interesting during our dinner on the way to Chang'an."

So much for letting anything go, ever.

"... ah," Shen Qiao said. He suddenly realized Yan Wushi had been maneuvering them backwards, so instead of space to back into, the only thing behind him was the elaborately carved bedpost.

Yan Wushi stepped a little closer, feigning thoughtfulness. " 'Can't you just be glad some young blood is coming to you old man for advice,' I think it was. Does that sound familiar to you?"

"Mh," Shen Qiao said, reading the glint in Yan Wushi's eyes and knowing whatever he said could and would be used against him.

"Mmh," Yan Wushi parroted back, leaning in so closely their breaths mingled before starting to mouth at his neck. "Well, I suppose now that you're thirty again, I can't fault you for thinking that."

Shen Qiao opened his mouth to protest. Instead of letting him, Yan Wushi caught his jaw and kissed him breathless.

"Fortunately," Yan Wushi added when he withdrew again, leaving Shen Qiao flushed, leaning against the bedpost. His own voice sounded a little breathless as well. "We have all night for me to prove you wrong."

"Of course you'll be joining the sword trial conference," Yuan Xiuxiu told Bai Rong over tea, sounding confused there had ever been doubts. Bai Rong didn't believe a word she said.
"You're one of our most talented students," Yuan Xiuxiu smiled, eyes curved and mouth closed. "How could we not choose you for the group representing our sect?"
Somehow, every compliment she gave felt more like the tightening of a noose. Bai Rong smiled back, demurred politely, and made her excuses as soon as possible.

She left the sect leader's tent and was greeted with cool night air. Their camp was near Chunyang Monastery already, the Hehuan contingent for the conference spreading out around them.

Both the prospective participants and spectators for the conference were sitting together and laughing, but despite that, there was a tension running through the air that went beyond just the nerves before a competition.

A cold gust of wind swept through the valley, making the hairs around Bai Rong's face dance.
Untouched by the cold, she stood there, grimly surveying the encampment before stalking off into the night on her own.

Chapter Text

When the Harmony Sect delegation arrived at Chunyang Monastery, the tournament had already begun with the sort of small fights that allowed the martial artists of lesser skill and reputation to measure up against each other. As Sect leader, Bai Rong had participated twice in the sword trial conference. Being here with Yuan Xiuxiu to defer to gave her an extremely strange sense of déjà vu, especially considering they were participating instead of gate-crashing.

Yuwen Yun had failed to kill his father, so Harmony Sect's position was far less domineering this time around. Still, there was a not insignificant amount of resentment against them, so that a complete stranger was brave enough to block their path.

"Last time I checked, the demonic sects didn't like to involve themselves with a tournament hosted by a daoist sect," he sneered. Bai Rong combed her memory if the original and found she had no idea who he was or what he was called. If he was always this stupid, maybe he had just gotten himself killed before she had ever met him. "If you ask me, that was the right idea. You should have stayed away."

They hadn't gathered a crowd, but the tournament courtyard was packed tightly enough that a good number of people could and had to listen in, and those people were watching the encounter carefully.

Instead of getting angry, Yuan Xiuxiu smiled slightly. Unlike the way she did before a fight, she barely put any Charm into it, so the stranger just swayed on his feet a little.

"Oh?" Yuan Xiuxiu said, voice sweet as honey, "And here I heard the sword trial conference was an event famed for letting everyone can show their skills and compete ... Am I meant to take it that you're scared we'll show you and your sect up?"

The stranger turned beet red and puffed up like an angry squirrel. Two or three people around them reached for their weapons, obviously about to back him up.
In this moment, Abbot Puyi swept in, just in time to cut into the conversation. "Of course that's not what he was trying to say, I'm sure he chose his words unwisely. Naturally you and yours are welcome to participate fairly like everyone else." If their host stressed the word fairly a little more than he should, Yuan Xiuxiu didn't seem to take offense. He turned back to adress both parties. "Please, Wang-Gongzi, Yuan-zongzhu, either move to your seats or go to Lady Zixiao to announce a duel properly."

Yuan Xiuxiu's smile could generously be called soft, but Bai Rong knew the type well enough to assume this Mr Wang didn't see the edges hidden beneath it. Without another word, their delegation followed Yuan Xiuxiu to the stands, one or two members of their group already breaking off to find a match.

A sweeping glance across the courtyard told Bai Rong everything she needed to know. Chunyang Monastery was hosting, so of course a lot of their members were in attendance. In different corners of the courtyard were members of Bixia Sect, Tiantai Sect, a few minor sects she didn't care about, and ... there she was, Gu Hengbo, standing next to a tall man with a silver guan.
Now that she was looking more closely, from the corner of her eye, the two were surrounded by a group of people dressed in similar colors ... Was this really a full delegation from Mt Xuandu? At what was essentially the attempt to form a daoist alliance against the Khaganate?

Gu Hengbo looked over and caught her gaze directly. Before Bai Rong could react, Gu Hengbo made her excuses to the tall man - who must be Yu Ai, then, though Bai Rong had never met the man - and began to move in her direction.

Internally, Bai Rong implored her, No. Don't. They had no reason to talk as far as the public was concerned, people would definitely notice. The mistress of Luliu Palace, inofficial judge of all matches, was staring at them with slightly narrowed eyes.

Gu Hengbo came to a halt directly in front of the Harmony Sect delegation and bowed. When she rose, she looked straight at Bai Rong. Her voice was cold and direct as she always was when she said, "I want a fight."

With the collected gazes of her group boring into her back, Bai Rong could feel an unpleasant smile tug at the corners of her mouth. Letting it take, she bared her teeth. "Then, by all means, lead the way."

The fight wasn't as short as it could be, Bai Rong holding back so she wouldn't tip her hand, but she didn't bother being gentle, either, her displeasure putting an edge of viciousness into her attacks that otherwise wouldn't have been there. If people had to look at them and wonder how they know each other, better to let them assume there was a bitter rivalry between them rather than a conspiracy.

For her twenty years of experience to Bai Rong's fourty, Gu Hengbo made a good showing. She was well trained, and the amount of solarity qi she had picked up from the volume Bai Rong had lent her definitely wasn't negligible. Once the match drew to a close, Gu Hengbo bowed again, forfeiting the duel.

Without looking up, she asked quietly, "Any changes?"

Bai Rong didn't move her lips as she replied, "No. News from our mutual friend?"

Gu Hengbo straightened up, shaking her head slightly. In a normal volume, she announced, "I'm not your match today. I look forward to our next fight."

The eyes of Luliu palace's young mistress were boring a hole into the side of Bai Rong's head. When Gu Hengbo's eyes followed Bai Rong's, however, Yuan Zixiao seems extremely preoccupied with writing down the results.
Bai Rong decided this really wasn't her problem until someone made it so.

At this particular moment, a shouting match between people from Bai-Rong-Didn't-Care-Which Pier and Tiantai Overlook erupted, the fury rolling over from the other side of the field.

To herself, Bai Rong thought, that was quick. I barely had to stir up any rumors.

~

"- it follows that the Tujue definitely killed Abbott Xueting!"

The abbot of Tiantai Monastery let his eyes flash. "As a former member of our sect, that is our business and not for you to meddle in. Further, even if that were true, you forget he was a traitor to our sect. We won't mourn him," he said coldly. Bai Rong silently applauded his poker face; she had personally handed Xueting over to Tiantai Outlook in exchange for a copy of another Zhuyang Ce scroll just a few weeks ago.

The man from somewhere pier blustered for a moment. "That may be so, but he was still a grandmaster from the central plains. The Tujue have been encroaching on our territory for too long, too boldly. They really went too far this time!"

From behind them came the severe, cold voice of a young woman, easily rising above the clamor. "I can't speak to the disappearance of Xueting, but I also have something to share."

Yu Ai threw her a startled look from the other side of the crowd. How had she gotten around them so quickly?

Gu Hengbo continued as the attention turned to her. "After the duel at Banbu Peak, I was surprised that Kunye beat Er-shixiong, but since it seemed to be a fair fight I intended to accept it.
"However, I fought Duan Wenyang at the banquet in Zhou since then, who is widely accepted to be more skilled than his shidi, and I was surprised. The skill gap was definitely not big enough for someone who was at least two ranks higher than my Er-Shixiong!
"So I became suspicious. After some searching, I found out that the evening before the fight, a traitor within our sect put a poison named Joyful Reunion into our Sect Leader's cup -"

The whispers that had broken out at her declaration rose up into a roar. Gu Hengbo raised her voice to be heard.

"- a poison that directly attacks a martial artist's foundations and starts to take effect quicker the more qi one uses, as one does in a fight - and is only found in the Khaganate!"

There was no calming the crowd at this point.

"As nobody has even found his body, I accuse the Tujue of foul play, dishonorable conduct, and the abduction or murder -"

Yu Ai was white as a sheet, but he hadn't made a move to stop her.

"- of our shixiong and Sect Leader, Shen Qiao!"

Bai Rong mentally wiped a tear from her eye at the way Gu Hengbo had embedded the truth seamlessly into a frame of lies. They really grew up so quickly.

In the tumult that followed, someone else shouted, "Dou Yanshan also died under suspicious circumstances, with his cultivation giving out during a fight! It must be the same -"

"The death of Gao Wei was also really suspicious ..."

The clear voice of Zhao Chiying cut across the chaos. "I generally disapprove of making a scene, but one of our elders recently died from something that was definitely Joyful Reunion. We also bear a grudge against whoever provided it."

Bai Rong almost blinked in surprise. She was rather sure she hadn't killed any Bixia Sect elders. But then someone pitched in, "And what of Hehuan's Sang Jingxing?" and she had to school her expression again.

The crowd quieted slightly, waiting for a response.

Yuan Xiuxiu choose her words carefully. Bai Rong understood why: since Qi was on its way to regaining its former glory, they weren't firmly allied with the Tujue at this time. However, they also didn't want to alienate or position themselves openly against them. Still, it was worrying Yuan Xiuxiu seemingly wanted to avoid sparking public outrage - it was definitely not beneath her on other days.

Finally, she said in her melodious voice, "Elder Sang's death was a great tragedy and loss to our sect. We are still investigating who might have been responsible. As such, we cannot say yet if the Tujue were or weren't involved. We wouldn't want to sling around any premature accusations before we have proof."

She had actually denied it so artfully it was even more convincing than a yes, but nobody would be able to pin her to it.
Bai Rong had to grudgingly hand it to her, that took skill.

Someone else shouted immediately, "So it was definitely the Tujue!"

Cries of "The Tujue are really going too far!" became loud, only to rapidly turn into "Someone needs to teach them a lesson" and then to "WE need teach them a lesson!"

For an event known for its competitiveness, it was a beautiful moment of unity.

The gates to the training yard swung open, banged against the walls left and right, and came to a groaning halt on the way back. They were accompanied by a gust of wind which swept across the courtyard.

Silence rippled through the crowd. Duan Wenyang, one arm stiff at his side but nonetheless the one who pushed open the gates with such force, stepped aside.

Speak of the devil. Despite being prepared, Bai Rong could feel herself pale.

Hulugu crossed the threshold like winter crosses a field.

Cold eyes wandered across every face in the courtyard.
"I came here to look for one Shen Qiao, to repay him a grave insult towards my disciple," Hulugu said silkily. "It seems I made the trip in vain. However, since I'm here already, let's talk about this lesson you think you are ready to teach."

The Tujue delegation fanned out behind him with brisk, efficient steps. Pu Anmi's face was stony and cold.

To herself, Bai Rong thought, Where's the disaster couple when you need them?

Chapter Text

Two days before the sword trial conference, Yan Wushi and Shen Qiao had made it about two thirds of the way to Chunyang Monastery, making good time.
That was before they encountered a very short, cloaked figure on the road.

The figure was carrying some sort of stick taller than themselves on their back and was trudging on slowly, as if on the brink of exhaustion.

Without waiting for Yan Wushi's reaction, Shen Qiao quickened his steps to catch up.

"Fellow traveller," he began in a friendly tone, "are you -"

The figure turned around. Shen Qiao barely had the time to recognise the face of a small filthy child before the figure yelled, "Shizun!"

For the next five minutes, Shiwu clung to his waist and refused to let go while they went over the most recent events. It was telling that, when Yan Wushi pointed out they could move to an inn to have this conversation, Shen Qiao took one look at Shiwu and carried him on his back instead of letting go.
Nobody commented on the fact that, even at physically eleven years old, Shiwu was technically too old to be carried.

"- and I found some stuff in Guang Lingsan's office," Shiwu continued and began to wrestle a roll of papers out of his coat so he could spread them out on the table. They had moved to an inn now, having gotten Shiwu a bath, a change of clothes, and a cup of tea in that order. "I think he's planning on opening a new timeline and closing this one to get rid of you two."

Shen Qiao let his eyes roam across the sketched arrays. Without looking up, he said, "Do you know when?"

"It's on the same day as the tournament. That's why I was traveling in your direction, I was hoping to catch you before you got there."

"That makes sense, it's a very auspicious date." Shen Qiao looked over at Yan Wushi. "Then we're not attending the sword trial conference, I suppose. Unless you want to split up to keep looking for Bian Yanmei?"

"Oh, Bian-xiong was there!" Shiwu exclaimed. The potentially reality bending news had distracted him somewhat. "We wanted to escape together, but he left his cell too early and got -" Shiwu realized mid-sentence that Bian Yanmei's Shizun was sitting across from him at the table, and Shiwu had been about to embarrass him, so he changed his mind. "- separated from me, I don't know what happened to him after."

Yan Wushi clucked his tongue before shrugging. "Well, it's a good thing we're packed for travel anyway."

Shen Qiao nodded and rose to his feet. "I'll speak to the innkeeper about the quickest route north, and about getting a map."

Yan Wushi turned to Shiwu and mustered him with an inscrutable expression. The boy was looking better than when they had found him a few hours ago, but he was visibly struggling not to fall asleep at the table. Underneath that, he was malnourished, too small even for an eleven year old, and shivering from exhaustion underneath Shen Qiao's borrowed overrobe.

When Shen Qiao was safely out of hearing range, Yan Wushi said casually, "See, this is why I didn't want you here. Was it as terrible as I said?"

Shiwu clutched his teacup and didn't point out he was basically saving all of their necks by being here. It might sound callous to others, but this was the closest thing to concern Yan Wushi had ever shown him.
So instead, he just shrugged. "In some parts." The trip across country as an eleven year old had not been fun. "But I also got to set Guang Lingsan's office on fire. So it wasn't all bad."
He grinned at Yan Wushi, who scoffed. And turned back to Shen Qiao when he got back from paying to complain about his students' disregard for their health, where could they possibly have learned that from?

It was a definite step up from "Ew. Just let this random child starve."

~

A gust of air shot past Bai Rong's torso, strong enough to shatter her ribcage if it had hit. Yi Bichen didn't waste the split-second she had bought him and moved out of range, circling to create an opening in Hulugu's defense, and Hulugu's attention shifted away from her again.

After being caught basically declaring the Tujue an enemy of state, if the collected sects wanted to save any face at all, they had no other choice but to fight them.

Yu Ai parried an attack and skidded backwards from the force of the blow.

Considering it was five against one, it really wasn't going well.

Using the distraction, Zhao Chiying swept into the gap, delivering a clean strike at Hulugu's side. He blocked it, perhaps slightly slower than he had been at the beginning.

Even with their superior numbers - their strongest fighters and those who had spoken out against the Tujue all working together - the fight was harrowing and the outcome uncertain.

Around them, another fight raged. Seeing their enemy fight their leader five on one, the Tujue delegation naturally hadn't stayed still, which in turn had spurred the other sects into action. The courtyard was filled with the sound of clanging swords, booming collisions, and the occasional crack of a whip.

From the corner of her eye, Bai Rong noted Harmony Sect - even those loyal to Yuan Xiuxiu - were fighting against the Tujue this time, even if they seemed to be holding back somewhat.

Bai Rong's instincts flared, and she interceded immediately. Pu Anmi and a friend of his stumbled away from Gu Hengbo, who had gotten cornered and caught outnumbered. The woman firmed her grip on her sword and made him regret the decision.

Bai Rong turned back to the fight just in time to draw Hulugu's attention away from Tiantai Monastery's abbott.
It was obvious none of them could win against Hulugu on their own, but Yi Bichen had the best chances. Hulugu kept trying to single him out for that exact reason, and the rest of them were trying to keep him too busy for that.

Yuan Xiuxiu herself was circling the fight, darting in for occasional attacks and disappearing again - never committing and never with full strength. Still, it was very eye-catching; after the fight, there would be no saying she hadn't stand with them.
The obervation sent a warning tingle down Bai Rong's spine. Hulugu was the lynchpin of the enemy's attack. If Yuan Xiuxiu was openly picking a side, why would she hold back in this situation?

Well, Bai Rong knew her own reasons for holding back - she was on very thin ice within her sect. But what were Yuan Xiuxiu's?

Unfortunately, Bai Rong's attention was drawn back into the fight, where Hulugu had foregone his usual broad style in favor of one lethally precise palm strike at Yi Bichen. Bai Rong leapt forward, her attack crashing into Hulugu from the side.

Hulugu withdrew at the last possible moment. Only the residue of the attack crashed into Yi Bichen, which was the only reason the man stayed firmly on his feet afterwards, even if he went worryingly pale.

However, Bai Rong had other problems to worry about. Having saved the man twice, Hulugu had correctly identified her as an obstacle, and she had overextended on her last attack. The next strike is aimed directly at her, and she was too close too close too close -

Surrendering to instinct honed by experience, Bai Rong fell into the rhythm of the fight, and her world narrowed down to hands, and qi, and speed.

~

Guang Lingsan was overseeing the construction of the array with a grim expression.

Even as elusive as Shen Qiao had been so far, there was no way he would miss the sword trial conference. Since Hulugu was harbouring a personal grudge against him this timeline as well - really, the man had a talent for drawing the ire of important people - it was safe to assume Shen Qiao would be occupied for a day at least, even with Yan Wushi coming to the rescue again.

Chunyang Monastery was three days away - two, if a martial artist was in a great hurry. Consequently, they should have another three days of time at least to finish the ritual. They would need less than two hours.

One of his elders entered the room. "Guang-zongzhou? There's someone at the gates to see you."

~

Shen Qiao raised his teacup and gently blew on it. He had really made too many negative experiences with tea lately to drink anything served up by an enemy, but it was polite to pretend.

"Master Shen," Feng Xiao said with a welcoming smile, pouring for himself as well and setting the tea pot back down. "To what do we owe the honor?"

Shen Qiao kept his face politely neutral.
You know very well what we're here for.
"I appreciate your hospitality. You might not have heard it yet, but I'm looking for the student of someone very close to me."
Feng Xiao made a politely interested noise. "I do wonder why you think you are going to find him here."

"I had hoped to find allies here. Martial artists going missing is a concern to all of us. However, if you aren't going to be cooperative, I suppose I have no other choice but to look for myself."

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far." Feng Xiao pulled a fan out of his sleeve and opened it. The silk was painted in elegant calligraphy and made for a fetching picture, emphasized by the gentle movements Feng Xiao was fanning himself with. "Being too hasty in such cases can end very badly."

The fan was, unmistakably, one of Bian Yanmei's.

Shen Qiao took the hint and settled back somewhat. "Then maybe we can reach an agreement."

Feng Xiao gave an agreeable smile. "When one has such a formidable partner, there is no greater joy than a good negotiation."

Trading hard looks across the table, both of them settled in for a lengthy debate.

~

Shen Qiao had gone in first and through the front door to cause a distraction and stall for time while Yan Wushi searched the mansion. Shen Qiao's part of the mission was working out great so far. It was working so great, in fact, that he was beginning to get suspicious.

Stalling for time always worked best if both sides were doing it.

As they were sitting in the main hall, there was a number of entrances and hallways leading to and from the room. Sharply, Shen Qiao threw a look upwards to the balustrade, where Yan Wushi had just appeared soundlessly.

Catching his eye, Yan Wushi shook his head.

That settled it.

"This has been an enlightening conversation," Shen Qiao cut into what Feng Xiao had been saying. "Since, as you said, you have seen neither hide nor hair of my person, I'll stop wasting your and my time."

He was proven right when Feng Xiao's smile suddenly gained an edge. "Now, there's no need to be hasty. As you said, it's possible he at least passed through at some point. Don't we have to consider all -"

Shen Qiao leaned down unhurriedly to grip the edge of the table between them. Then, faster than the eye could follow, he flipped the table, struck Feng Xiao in the face with it, and ducked behind it to use it as a shield in the same movement.

Not a second later, a hail of arrows drummed against the tabletop. A group of archers had been stationed behind the columns of the grand hall.

Feng Xiao was momentarily stunned, sprawled out where Shen Qiao had shoved him, but he would recover soon.

In askance, Shen Qiao looked to his left. Shiwu, who had snuck into the residence as well - of course he had, what had he been thinking - waved from the shadows to catch his eye, then pointed down urgently.

Shen Qiao looked at his feet. The floor was beautiful, even hardwood. Glancing above the table, Shen Qiao eyed the advancing Feng Xiao.

Without further hesitation, Shen Qiao slammed down his hand. With a resounding crack, he disappeared in a cloud of dust and wooden splinters, leaving a table-sized hole in the floor.

Chapter Text

Shen Qiao broke through the ceiling, pulling the table under himself. It crashed to the ground, losing a leg to the impact, and tilted over, so Shen Qiao took a controlled step off it at the right moment and touched down on level ground.
The archers approached from above, ringing the hole he had left in the ceiling.
A glance around revealed he had broken into a cellar, with a high ceiling vaulting even higher towards the middle of the room.

The collective attention of everyone present turned to him.

Shen Qiao mustered the situation critically. Most of the floor was covered in a large, circular array drawn in cinnabar, while a half-dozen or so people were still busy adding the finishing touches. Next to it, two disciples of the Fajing Sect were holding Bian Yanmei in place, a third one pressing a knife to his throat. Overseeing the entire thing was Guang Lingsan, together with a council of his elders.
There was a moment of silence while they all figured out what to do with this new situation.

Then Yan Wushi finished kicking down the front door.

With a look from their sect leader, three of the elders moved to ring the entrance.
Meanwhile, Yan Wushi straightened up and shook his head in mock disapproval. He tsked. "A-Qiao," he drawled, taking in the room with quick, cool eyes. "Doors are a thing. Where are your manners?"

Shen Qiao bit down on a sarcastic response (your bed was the last time I had them, check there) in favor of saying, "Mn. Next time, I'll knock first as well." He looked over to Bian Yanmei, on whose face confusion was warring with relief. Since he had never actually met Shen Qiao, he was probably wondering who the stranger talking to his Shizun was.

He was also looking somewhat roughed up and was being held next to an array in which Shen Qiao was pretty sure he could make out the characters for "blood sacrifice."

"Guang-zongzhu," Shen Qiao said coolly, moving on to the man overseeing the construction of the array. "We apologize for the interruption, but we have to request you return Bian-gongzi immediately."

In Bai Rong's opinion, the fight against Hulugu wasn't going as badly as it could have been going. With the combined forces of Harmony Sect, Bixia Sect, Chunyang Monastery, and even Mount Xuandu, they were doing rather well, she decided as she pushed forward to send out three blue lotus palms in quick succession. They shot through the air and struck, forcing Hulugu to abandon an attack against Zhao Chiying and dispel them.

All of them were tiring. Yi Bichen was unnaturally pale, Zhao Chiying had been limping since she had missed a block a minute ago, Yuan Xiuxiu had lowered the frequency of her attacks, and Bai Rong could feel herself coast up against the edge of her energy reserves. However, even as Hulugu's cold sneer remained unchanged on his face, his attacks had lost power. Blocks that came up a hint too late, switches from one opponent to the next that turned hasty where they had been calm and controlled before, a dozen little details were letting them know they were slowly, but surely bringing him down.

It was almost going too well, actually.

In the next exchange between Yi Bichen and Hulugu, Bai Rong saw a weakness and moved in to strike. Still half-distracted, Hulugu fell for the feint.

Even while Bai Rong landed the sunsequent hit, she knew the execution was flawless. As she dashed backwards she saw Hulugu, mountain, monster, stumble and reach for his chest.
He turned to her with murder in his eyes, a wounded predator hellbent on taking their attacker down with them.

Satisfied in her success, Bai Rong moved backwards to withdraw again.
Instead, she found someone at her back, blocking her path.

Bai Rong met Yuan Xiuxiu's cold eyes for a split-second.
Yuan Xiuxiu's palm was raised for a strike. Almost on instinct, Bai Rong threw herself to the side to get away, leaving herself wide open against -

The air screamed around her. She twisted around mid-leap, and Hulugu's palm technique mostly missed her, only ripping past her side and chest, leaving her winded, bruised. Head swimming from the impact, she landed on her feet and struck back like a viper, making him take a step back.

Hulugu's next strike hit her like an avalanche, sweeping her away.

For one long moment, she lost the ground under her feet. Then a pillar crashed into her back.
Bau Rong could feel something fracture, and it wasn't just the stone.

Guang Lingsan gave a threatening smile. "I request neither of you make any hasty moves. Otherwise, Bian-gongzi dies."

Yan Wushi gave an even more threatening smile. "If he dies, all of you die immediately after. Is that really a worthy trade to you?"

With infuriating calm, Guang Lingsan shook his head. "Once he dies, it doesn't matter how many of us die in this timeline. Can you really kill us quickly enough to stop the completion of the ritual?"

They could not, and they knew it.
Guang Lingsan smiled grimly, then signaled for the disciples restraining Bian Yanmei to stop. The one with the knife to Bian Yanmei's throat lowered it slightly, letting him breathe.

"You know, it really is a shame," Guang Lingsan said conversationally. "He's a clever boy, it would have been far better to recruit him. Alas, he's stubborn and needs must."

Shen Qiao frowned. "I don't quite understand. It didn't sound like you had to kill anyone last time you did this, so why now?"

Guang Lingsan clucked his tongue and sighed. The sounds echoed from the vaulted ceiling. "Closing the old timeline is the death of a world, it needs a symbolic death as the catalyst. You need to show you know the cost of a life before you end an entire dimension."

"He's being dramatic," Yan Wushi called over from the door, where he and the elders were eyeing each other up. "It needs a blood sacrifice because the guy who wrote the spell was a bastard, that's all."

Shen Qiao had his own reservations about someone who killed really knowing the cost of it, but he kept them to himself. "So why are you picking Bian Yanmei? If you turn time back again, anyone you kill lives again. What do you need a hostage for?"

"Oh, no," Guang Lingsan explained patiently. "Regular deaths get reversed. But like our old bodies in the original timeline vanished, the person who is sacrificed here won't show up at all in the next timeline. Otherwise we aren't really paying any price at all."

Shen Qiao nodded thoughtfully before straightening up. "Then take me instead. Having lived in two timelines, I feel quite satisfied."

Guang Lingsan waited for Yan Wushi's reaction. When none came, he laughed. "How stupid do you think I am? The second I am distracted by you, Yan-zongzhu - don't think I forgot about him over there, by the way - is going to free his student, and then you'll have no reason to hold back. No," he continued, "I'm not taking any chances. This time, we'll just take you out the day you leave Xie Residence."

Shen Qiao's expression remained placid.

Guang Lingsan smiled benevolently. "It was entertaining talking to you one last time. Or ... who knows, maybe we'll just keep you? After all, Yan Wushi proved you're an excellent ally to have." He smirked at Yan Wushi, who had inched closer and was now hovering ominously in his stand-off with the three elders. "Now if you'll excuse me, it's time to finish -"

A shout from the henchman was all the warning he got. Guang Lingsan's gaze snapped over just in time to discover several things, as they were:

1) While they had been talking, Bian Yanmei had somehow gotten his hands free and acquired the knife;
2) one of his jailors was down already and the other one was losing to a very angry knife-equipped Bian Yanmei;
3) the reason for both of these things was probably the eleven year old, who had somehow snuck in and was now viciously jamming yet another knife into the back of henchman no. 3's knee.

(The latter was not helping Bian Yanmei with his feelings of "ew. I sure hope it doesn'thave rabies ...")

"Decent job," Yan Wushi said grudgingly to them both after their enemies were lying in a groaning, bleeding pile at their feet.
Bian Yanmei beamed, saluted, and turned on his heel to deliver a strike at the rest of the Mirror of Arts Sect, who were getting in on the action.

Huanyue sect values quality over quantity, Yan Wushi had said once.
Bian Yanmei zealously set to proving him right. He cut through the ranks like a scythe through ripe grain, Shiwu following him to make sure the people who were down stayed down.

On a large scale, Shiwu was less effective. However, by dint of being small, quick, and very ferocious, he was by far the more terrifying one. In fact, he reminded a little of the monkeys on Rupqiang ... Guang Lingsan shuddered.

Then he dodged to the side without looking, narrowly evading death by palm strike.

Seeing their disciples handle themselves, Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi had slowly and terrifyingly turned their attention back to the source of the problem.
After that first strike, Yan Wushi was quickly wrapped up into a fight with the elders.

Shen Qiao deliberatley drew Shanhe Tongbei.

Bai Rong saw double, but if she was sorting the pictures together correctly, then what she saw was how Yi Bichen, Yuan Xiuxiu, Yu Ai, and Zhao Chiying were mercilessly exploiting the opening she created. Hulugu moved as if he had several broken ribs and ruptured organs.

Bai Rong heard and felt rather than saw the rest of the fight finish up.

Hulugu finally fell.

It felt monumental, a mountain brought down by four singular mountaineers.

Bai Rong wished she could move enough to appreciate it more.

Shen Qiao raised Shanhe Tongbei to deliver the final hit against Guang Lingsan. That moment, a burst of qi struck Guang Lingsan out from under his blade with enough force to throw the man across the room.
He landed several meters to the side and didn't get up again.

Shen Qiao turned to look at Yan Wushi, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

Yan Wushi nonchalantly flipped his sleeve. "What? Your disciple already set his office on fire for kidnapping him, you're even. I still demand satisfaction for mine!"

Shen Qiao graciously didn't point out that Bian Yanmei was currently turning most of the Mirror of Arts Sect into minced meat.

Behind them, Guang Lingsan finished coughing up blood and raised his eyes to glare at them. "And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for ...!" His arm gave out under him and he sank to the floor. The eleven year old. And the monkeys.

Sensing the threat was over, Shen Qiao turned to Shiwu and Bian Yanmei and found them uninjured. "Secure the perimeter," he said. "We'll meet up once we're sure the danger is past."

"Making sure we're alone is a good idea," Yan Wushi said with a look past his shoulder. "There won't be much time for anything else, though."

Shen Qiao followed his gaze to Guang Lingsan's corpse. Since he had coughed up blood in his last moments, a small rivulet had spread across the tiled floor until it had crossed one of the lines making up the array. Where the blood touched the cinnabar, the array had begun to glow.

Chapter Text

"So when we walk through -"

"Hold up," Shiwu interrupted, making an x with his forearms. It almost blocked the glare he drew from Yan Wushi. "It's a glowing red portal to the past. Why would we walk through that again?"

Yan Wushi sighed and rolled his eyes, but it was Shen Qiao who answered. "The array has already been activated," he said pensively. "Time will reset either way, but if we don't go through, we'll lose our memories as well."

Yan Wushi was already walking past them, towards the shimmer in the air above the array.

"Be careful what you take with you and be sure to get the blood off," he threw over his shoulder. "We don't need the same problems as this old snake, bringing back a bunch of people we don't care about."
Bian Yanmei cringed and dropped his borrowed knife to the floor.

When Shen Qiao had finished sorting out his belongings, he had removed
- a napkin with directions written on it that he had gotten at the previous inn from a random traveller,
- Guang Lingsan's documents with notes from Feng Xiao on them,
- his right sleeve, which still had the remnants of a few drops of blood on it (they had never really washed out, even if he couldn't remember where they were from),
- the sheath Shiwu had put on Shanhe Tongbei, improvised with materials stolen from the Mirror of Arts Sect,
- and some other odds and ends he couldn't remember the origin of.

His pile was a lot smaller than Yan Wushi's, he noted with a passing glance. Who knew where Yan Wushi had found another vial of Joyful Reunion, for example. Or why it was half empty.
Shen Qiao noted that Yan Wushi had also sorted out a small bag of Harmony Sect knockout powder. He made no move whatsoever to pull the corresponding letter from his sleeve. Yan Wushi didn't ask about it.

Shen Qiao slung Shanhe Tongbei and Junzi Bu Qi across his back. Then the four of them crossed the threshold to the past.

Breathing shallowly and looking up into the sky, Bai Rong felt something she had felt only once before: the disorienting sensation of being pulled backwards through time.

A second later and several years ago, Bai Rong was leaning backwards high up in the branches of a rustling tree, struck first by the complete lack of pain. When the nausea passed, the first thing she did was stretch luxuriously, enjoying the movement of her muscles over hale bones.

In the distance, she could hear the sounds of the delegation from the Six Harmonies Association moving past.

Bai Rong leaned back against the trunk and crossed her ankles, enjoying the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. Behind her lowered eyelids, she replayed the fight with Hulugu once more.

Her skills hadn't been good enough to beat him on her own this time. However, she had done astonishingly well. If it hadn't been for Yuan Xiuxiu ...

Hulugu had always been the indomitable master at the top, beaten even by Yan Wushi only by a hair's breadth. By the time Bai Rong had made a name for herself the first time around, Hulugu had long since faded into legend.

Now, going over the actual movements of the fight with some distance, Bai Rong realized the skill gap wasn't nearly as big as she had thought anymore. If she gave herself five more years of training, like she had in the last timeline ... she would probably have a chance of beating Hulugu one on one. Perhaps more, if she managed to find another one of the two solarity scrolls she was still missing.

Bai Rong found she really, really liked that thought.

A smile played around the corners of her mouth. Bai Rong leaned back in her tree, blissfully uninjured, and began to plan.

In the middle of the room, a bed.
On the bed, a beauty.
Well, the beauty currently looked like he had been poisoned and thrown off a cliff, but it was the principle of the thing, Yan Wushi supposed as he quietly closed the door to the infirmary behind him.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed with care, he reached for Shen Qiao's wrist to take his pulse for a few seconds. Despite his lack of consciousness, he found there was a good amount of solarity qi diligently at work to fix the damage of the fall, with Joyful Reunion already drained from his body.
Having confirmed that Shen Qiao was fine for the moment, Yan Wushi set his wrist back down and, without further ado, lay down next to him.

No point in wasting time. They had spent way too much time apart already.

As if sensing the familiar presence, Shen Qiao's breathing seemed to come a little easier. Very, very carefully, Yan Wushi draped an arm across the part of his chest that wasn't covered in bandages, before closing his eyes and laying still.

Outside, having quietly closed the door again after only one peek, Yu Shengyan was silently losing his mind.

Chapter Text

"Go to Xiang Province City, Yu Shengyan," the disciple in question grumbled as he picked his way through the crowd. "Look for that one very specific kid, Yu Shengyan. There's only ten thousand of them, don't be such a -"

A few meters in front of him, a small child tried to slink away into the crowd upon seeing him. Yu Shengyan had the sudden feeling he had found his mission objective.

He started to run. The kid ducked out of sight between two adults and took off like a cheetah.

~

Catching the kid turned out to be a lot easier than keeping him. Wrangling a small, wiry boy with surprisingly good technique, he managed to grit out, "I'm not here -" the boy elbowed him in the chin, "to harm you!"

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said about the boy.

A small foot caught Yu Shengyan in the kidney. "Will you! Hold! Still!"

It was amazing how fast the reflexes of one underfed eleven-year-old could be. Shizun had been right, Yu Shengyan was definitely learning a lot.

The boy whose name wasn't yet Shiwu stilled temporarily and narrowed his eyes. "Why should I trust you?"

Yu Shengyan scrambled for an answer. "Uuuh ... Yan Wushi sent me?"

The kid promptly bit him. Yu Shengyan yelped and let go, so the boy took off into the crowd again.

Yu Shengyan screamed in frustration.

This had to be why Bian Yanmei had point blank refused the mission and then delegated it to him.

Somehow, he had known.

~

Bai Rong knocked on the door of the rural house she had found Shen Qiao in after the ambush. After a few minutes, it was opened by the elderly man she remembered.

"Hello," Bai Rong said, affecting a charming smile. "You definitely don't remember me, but I believe your granddaughter was interested in a martial arts scholarship?"

~

"Shimei, why are you packing?" asked Tan Yuanchun with a hint of confusion.

When Gu Hengbo turned her eyes on him with a considering glint in them, he suddenly wondered if she was planning use the dagger she had been about to stow away.

That was ridiculous, though. What reason could she have?

Reason or not, Gu Hengbo lowered the dagger. Then she asked slowly, "You don't happen to know where to find a demonic cultivator named Bai Rong, do you?"

"Shixiong, why are you packing?" Yuan Ying asked, hovering in the doorway.

Yu Ai's belongings were strewn across the room, Junzi Bu Qi leaning against the doorframe. The sword tassel, a little jade rabbit he had exchanged with Gu Hengbo years ago, was still swinging slightly.

Yuan Ying let his gaze wander across the collection of food, weapons, climbing equipment, and other miscellaneous things, and wondered what on earth Yu Ai was doing. "Are you planning to break into some other sect's head quarters or something?" he asked jokingly. There really wasn't much else that would require this level of planning for a martial artist.

Yu Ai's hair was in disarray and his eyes were determined, if a little wild.
"I need to go rescue Er-Shixiong."

~

Lying on a day bed in a beautiful garden somewhere, Shen Qiao suppressed a sneeze. With how many of his ribs were broken, that would have been a bad idea.

Yan Wushi propped himself up on one elbow next to him. "Something wrong?"

Shen Qiao gently shook his head so he didn't pull at the bandages. "I just felt like somebody was talking about me."

"Hm," Yan Wushi said, sounding unimpressed. "Ignore it." He moved to hand-feed Shen Qiao another grape, holding it away again when Shen Qiao reached for it.

"Ah, ah," he chided playfully, "Remember, you're not allowed to move yet. Indulge me?"

His smile was positively angelical, but Shen Qiao could almost feel the trouble-making glint in his eyes.

Shen Qiao threw a fond, but annoyed look in his general direction.

Yan Wushi wasn't swayed. "Say ah."

The day was sunny, bright and warm.

Shen Qiao rolled his eyes and indulged him.