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Shen Jiu knelt next to Madame Liu's low table in her study. To his right was her eldest son, Liu Xiaoyu ¹, a boy about his own age with a mole under his eye and a pretty but arrogant face. Both Lius had matching looks of annoyance all aimed at the same person. Qiu Jianluo sat on the other side with Qiu Haitang tucked directly next to him. Qiu Haitang tilted her head, trying to sneak a peak at Shen Jiu but Shen Jiu kept his eyes forward. He forced himself to breathe slow and even, keeping his hands flat on the nice silk robe one of the Liu servants had put him into that morning, as if he were a little lord and not some street rat.

"So if you'll just return Shen Jiu to me, I can be on my way," Qiu Jianluo said.

A few days prior, Shen Jiu had stumbled through a darkened wood, trying to find a stream to wash the latest series of slashes from Qiu Jianluo's knife out of his clothes. The moon had only been a small slice of silvery white and the area unfamiliar. Shen Jiu remembered the pain branching out into his limbs, he head heavy and his fingers going numb. Still he pushed on. If he stained his robes and Qiu Haitang saw, Qiu Jianluo would only be more angry the next night. But the trees all looked the same in the dark. He knew the stream had to be near, had seen it from the carriage when they'd arrived a few days before. But he couldn't find it. As the moon slid lower towards the horizon, the world spun, his feet slipped, and he fell face first into the dirt. All the energy drained from his body, his robes certainly ruined now where they stuck to his back with sweat and dried blood.

He sniffled, trying not to cry, crying would do nothing.

Fatigue pulled at his limbs and he let his head sink back against the dew-covered grass. He'd just close his eyes for a few moments. Just for a little bit. Then he'd find the stream.

Just for a little bit.

He'd awoken in a nice bed, with comfortable sheets and his wounds already bandaged. He'd been dressed in new inner robes of some kind of soft fine linen that he'd certainly never worn once in his whole life.

That's how he'd first met Zhao Qingshuang², the wife of the head of the prominent Liu family. He'd tried to thank her and make a quick exit, his heart racing as he thought of the punishment he'd receive, but Zhao Qingshuang wouldn't hear of it. She'd had the estate guards bar the exits then attended to him personally, as if he was her own child.

Shen Jiu didn't understand how someone could be so kind to him. There was no way he could have fallen into that kind of fortune. When Qiu Jianluo had shown up to claim him, Shen Jiu sighed, stealing himself as he slipped from the nest of sheets and cushions and towards Zhao Qingshuang's study. It could never last. He knew that. But he reasoned the few days he'd spent sleeping in a comfortable bed and eating well would be worth whatever it was Qiu Jianluo would do to him for the trouble.

"Why would I return Jiu-er to you?" Zhao Qingshuang replied, her head held high, the delicate comb in her hair glinting in the light filtering through the paper screening the window. "He's a member of my household."

Shen Jiu tried not to jolt and new he must have failed badly. Qiu Jianluo hadn't noticed, though. His gaze was locked on Zhao Qingshuang with an identical expression of shock. For once, Shen Jiu and him were in agreement.

"What do you mean?" Qiu Jianluo said. Shen Jiu stiffened on instinct at his tone. "I bought Shen Jiu myself. He belongs to me."

"You're mistaken," Zhao Qingshuang said, "He's been a member of my household for several years. The young master must have confused him with someone else."

Qiu Jianluo gaped at her. "He— No—" Shen Jiu watched his anger war with his knowledge that Zhao Qingshuang outranked him both in title and actual power. Every one of the Lius was a well regarded cultivator in their own right and Shen Jiu didn't have to see Zhao Qingshuang fight to know her reputation preceded her. Qiu Jianluo may have had delusions of grandeur but he wasn't stupid.

"Madame Liu," he said. "That is my slave. I bought him two years ago and I would like him returned to me. You see, my sister is quite taken with him and I've arranged their marriage. How can I break that now?"

A small line cut Zhao Qingshuang's brows and her gaze landed briefly on Shen Jiu before returning to Qiu Jianluo.

"My apologies, but as I said, Jiu-er is a member of my household. I cannot just hand him over because you say so."

Qiu Haitang had finally had enough. Her head whipped to Shen Jiu, the little ribbons in her hair fluttering, her large eyes wide and hurt. Shen Jiu did not look at her. He'd spent so many days taking care of her, so many nights with his head in her lap hoping Qiu Jianluo wouldn't call him away. She'd kept him safe, unknowingly perhaps, but still safe, and for that he could not hate her. Shen Jiu, though, had always been a survivor. If there was any chance of escape, he would take it no matter what.

"Jiu-er?" She stared at him, eyes beginning to water. "Tell them they're wrong. There's been a mistake. We took care of you, didn't we? Why would you lie?"

Shen Jiu swallowed, but kept his eyes trained on the opposite wall.

"You!" Qiu Jianluo never had been able to sit and watch his sister suffering, even a little. "After everything I did to pull you out of the dirt? To raise your status and to offer to marry you to my sister? It's more than a beast like you deserves. Enough of this nonsense. I'll—" He twisted to lunge for Shen Jiu.

Liu Xiaoyu acted first, sword drawn and leveled at Qiu Jianluo before he could move another muscle.

"My mother said Shen Jiu is a member of our household, so he is."

"Xiaoyu," Zhao Qingshuang said, holding up a hand. Her son bristled but lowered the tip of his sword. Satisfied, she turned back to Qiu Jianluo. "I believe I have humored you enough. I did not wish to be rude to a guest in my house but if you continue to act in such a manner, then you will have to leave. I will remind you that this is not the Qiu estate and you are not master here."

Qiu Jianluo's face went red. "He is my slave. Do you understand? I can prove it. I branded him myself. On his shoulder, you'll see the mark."

Zhao Qingshuang's face darkened. "I see. Do you expect me to allow you to strip someone in my household in front of everyone to satisfy your pride?"

"I—"

"No," Zhao Qingshuang cut him off. "To think you'd come here and continue to insist upon your rights to someone I have already claimed. It's shameless." Her elegant head lifted to the guards standing beside the doors. "I've heard enough. Escort them out."

Qiu Jianluo's face twisted as he leveled a burning glare at Shen Jiu. Even from his periphery, Shen Jiu still flinched. If Qiu Jianluo ever got him alone, Shen Jiu was sure the man would kill him.

"Fine, come on Haitang." Qiu Jianluo dragged his sister to her feet and stormed towards the door.

"Jiu-er," Qiu Haitang called back to him. Her eyes were wide and confused and Shen Jiu couldn't help but watch her go, disappearing out the door into a burst of afternoon sunlight. Then the guards closed the doors again and Shen Jiu was left with Liu Xiaoyu and Zhao Qingshuang.

He looked between the two of them, mind twisting. He didn't understand how any of this had happened.

"What he said was true," Shen Jiu said at last. Zhao Qingshuang turned her gaze to him. "He did buy me from a group of slavers and he did intend to marry me to his sister."

Liu Xiaoyu blew a rush of air out his nose, crossing his arms, but said nothing.

Zhao Qingshuang sighed. "And did he also brand you?"

Shen Jiu's eyes dropped down, a rush of hot shame running down his spine.

"I see," she said. "I saw to your injuries when you came here myself. The older marks. Did he leave those, too?"

Shen Jiu's fingers curled into his robes, eyes burning. What was he supposed to say? That he couldn't even be obedient long enough to not spark Qiu Jianluo's temper? Or that he couldn't even fight back to save himself? Qiu Jianluo had called him all sorts of names. A dog, a beast. If none of that were true, then why had he been trapped there? Why had Yue Qi not—

"Ah," Zhao Qingshuang nodded. "You poor thing." She got up and knelt down in front of him. "As a cultivator, you can erase many scars. The Lius have practiced cultivation for generations. It's something we could teach you, if you wished."

Shen Jiu's head shot up, eyes scanning her face as he searched for a lie. But he found nothing. How could that be true? How could anyone want to help him? No one ever had before, so why now?

Liu Xiaoyu huffed, then knocked his shoulder into Shen Jiu's. "Just say yes and be done with it."

"Xiaoyu," Zhao Qingshuang sighed. "Despite my son's lack of tact. He is right. If you would like to stay here with us and learn, then that's what you'll do."

She said it with such easy finality that Shen Jiu could only bow his head and say, "Yes."

…

Shen Jiu winced as his pipa string snapped and struck his face. He contemplated throwing the thing into the nearby pond. Most were asleep this late at night and there was no one around to see him do it. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, trying to focus not on another failure, but the night breeze blowing through his hair bringing the fresh floral scents from around the garden.

This was the third one he'd broken today as he tried to channel his qi the way one of the many Lius had shown him. When he'd first started learning he'd thought all the Lius were humoring him when they wrapped their fingers around his wrist and then remarked how strong his natural qi was. They all told him the same thing: he had good foundations. But Shen Jiu had never felt that way. Sure he'd been able to sharpen leaves and make petals move with a little burst of energy since he was very young, but that had only ever caused him trouble. If he was that remarkable then someone like Qiu Jianluo should have never been able to do what he'd done.

After several weeks though, Shen Jiu had begun to think that perhaps they were right. Even so it changed nothing. What use was a flowing river if it couldn't be controlled? If it flooded it's banks at the slightest provocation? After the first few weeks of frustration and more than one snapped sword, Zhao Qingshuang had suggested the pipa.

Shen Jiu had picked up the notes easily enough. He had always loved music after all. If he could, when he was forced to beg on the street, he would always try to find places where he could hear the nearby street performers or the brothel jies singing. But even if Zhao Qingshuang hadthought an instrument might help Shen Jiu channel his ambient qi better, nothing had changed. He'd cracked the wooden practice swords he'd been given just like he snapped the strings of the pipa.

Useless.

Mayb Qiu Jianluo had been right.

"You're forcing it."

Shen Jiu whipped around to find Liu Xiaoyu sitting on the roof. Under the moonlight his face was soft and delicate, the little mole under his eye standing in stark contrast to his smooth skin. Shen Jiu huffed turning back to the pipa to restring it. Just because Liu Xiaoyu was back from his fancy sect didn't mean Shen Jiu had to listen to him.

"Did you hear me?"

There was a rustle in the grass as Liu Xiaoyu landed nimbly then strode over.

"Hey!"

Shen Jiu felt Liu Xiaoyu's hand stir the air. Before it could make contact with his shoulder Shen Jiu thrust his own up to block.

"I heard you," Shen Jiu said.

"Then say so," Liu Xiaoyu huffed.

"Who told you that pulling new shoots up was the best way to help them grow?"³ Shen Jiu scoffed. "I don't believe I asked for your assistance." Ever since he'd been taken in by the Lius, he'd gotten the impression that Liu Xiaoyu was always looking down on him. And what else would he do? He was the oldest son of a noble family, blessed with talent beyond measure. Meanwhile Shen Jiu may have had a flood of ambient qi filling his body but he could no more control it than control a storm. He was jsut some street rat. But he was a street rat who'd never been able to let go of his pride and so couldn't stand Liu Xiaoyu trying to give him advice when Shen Jiu was older, even if by barely a year.

"If I tell you the wood is wet will you still build a house,"⁴ Liu Xiaoyu crossed his arms. Shen Jiu turned to glare at him.

"You think I'm being argumentative, then what are you?"

"I came to help you because you're doing it wrong," Liu Xiaoyu said.

Shen Jiu bristled. "Oh? Do you know so much? Well then maybe Great Master Liu should instruct me."

Liu Xiaoyu's pretty face contorted his cheeks going red. "I won't."

"Of course," Shen Jiu turned his head back to his pipa. "Because you don't have anything to instruct."

"No," Liu Xiaoyu huffed. ""Because I'd hurt you."

Shen Jiu ground his teeth together. He sucked in a breath, his qi sparking through his newly formed meridians. He knew Liu Xiaoyu was probably right but Shen Jiu also had never been able to step away when he should. He set the pipa aside so as not to damage the gift he'd been given by Zhao Qingshuang.

"Then I have to insist, Liu Xiaoyu. If you know so much then please instruct me." Shen Jiu stood sweeping his robes into order.

"I won't," Liu Xiaoyu said again. "I'll hur—"

Shen Jiu's fist flew out and struck true. Liu Xiaoyu bent back just in time to save his nose from breaking but not stop blood from gushing out onto his white robes. He looked down at the smear of red across the fabric then back up at Shen Jiu like he'd never seen him before.

"Huh?" Shen Jiu cocked his head. "Maybe I should be instructing you."

Liu Xiaoyu's shoulders stiffened, glare full of quick-sparking rage, then he lunged. Shen Jiu leapt backwards but he wasn't as swift as Liu Xiaoyu. Liu Xiaoyu's palm smacked against his shoulder with a qi-backed strike. Shen Jiu went flying, rolling across the ground. His own energy whipped through him, vibrating the backs of his teeth. He swallowed a moutful of coppery spit and then darted for the nearby gardenia tree, its blossoms in full spring bloom. He couldn't outmaneauver Liu Xiaoyu so he'd have to be smarter.

He ducked around the tree just as Liu Xiaoyu streaked through the air towards him. Shen Jiu spun around the trunk. A spray of flower blossoms and wood sprinters cut the air as Liu Xiaoyu's kick hit the trunk instead of Shen Jiu. Shen Jiu dodged again, ducking under branches and sweeping to the other side of the tree until Liu Xiaoyu's face was flushed and his eyes were blazing.

"Stop that!" He snapped.

Shen Jiu ignored him. As Liu Xiaoyu swept around the tree again, Shen Jiu bent and scooped a handful of dirt into his hand, raising it to his lips and blowing hard with a burst of qi-infused air the way he'd been taught by Zhao Qingshuang. It sprayed liek fine powder and Liu Xiaoyu flinched back with a yelp.

"You!" He swiped at his eyes, streaking dirt across his cheeks. Shen Jiu struck forward as fast as he could, sweeping his leg into Liu Xiaoyu's side. Then he reached out and felt the pine needles quiver around him. He pulled. The qi in his body burned spiking though him like a burst of lightning. A stream of blood spilled from his nose but he ignored it. Hundreds of pine needles shot towards Liu Xiaoyu just as he got the dirt out of his eyes.

Liu Xiaoyu jolted, spinning away on instinct alone. A few of the needles cut holes in his robes and sliced across his forehead, spilling a streak of red down his flushed face. He leapt backwards with a sweeping burst qinggong, landing nimbly on the roof.

He glared down at Shen Jiu with wide shocked eyes. Shen Jiu stared back, panting heavily. A trail of blood hit his lip and he licked it away, gaze never leaving Liu Xiaoyu. He'd show this spoiled little lord. He may not be a match in terms of cultivation, but like he refused to be beaten so easily.

Liu Xiaoyu's pale cheeks flushed. His lips quirked a little. Then he nodded. When he leapt forward this time he was even faster and it was all Shen Jiu could do to block him. First a strike towards his face, then a sweep of Liu Xiaoyu's leg. They spun around and around each other Liu Xiaoyu on the offensive. Shen Jiu sucked in air, lungs burning as he bent and twisted with everything he had to avoid Liu Xiaoyu's striking hands.

His feet skidded across the rocks laid by the pond. The moon gleamed in the rippling water. Liu Xiaoyu's eyes were bright, sweat gleaming on his brow. The arrogant derisive look was gone, replaced by the faintest curve of his lips as he struck out Shen Jiu dodged backwards. The wet stone slipped under Shen Jiu's feet. His stomach swooped and Liu Xiaoyu's hand flashed out, gripping him by his robes.

They hung there, Shen Jiu's long hair tracing along the water's edge as Liu Xiaoyu's fingers tightened in his robes. Liu Xiaoyu blinked.

Shen Jiu's thoughts sparked. His heart hammered, qi roiling like a river rushing towards the sea. He knew he'd never win against Liu Xiaoyu, even if he trained for a hundred years, head on, Liu Xiaoyu would always be stronger. Shen Jiu could see that with striking clarity. But he saw something else as he gazed back into Liu Xiaoyu's wide dark eyes. Liu Xiaoyu would win head-on, but he was too straightforward, too unbending. Like a boat being thrust into the rapids, he could capsize with startling ease.

Shen Jiu grinned. Liu Xiaoyu's long lashes fluttered, the tips of his ears turning red.

"Shen Ji—" He started again. Shen Jiu didn't give him a chance to finish. His hands whipped up, grasping Liu Xiaoyu's wrist. Then he pushed backwards. The moon spun overhead, his stomach flipped then he was splashing into still cold early spring water, Liu Xiaoyu right after him.

Shen Jiu broke the surface first, tossing his wet hair out of his face. Liu Xiaoyu came up a moment later, a fallen leaf sticking out of his slicked hair.

"You!" He looked as angry as a soggy little kitten. His once pristine robes soaked through, marred with dirt and blood, his princely face screwed up. A brilliant gold and white koi drifted between them, it's tail cutting the surface to splash another stream of water across Liu Xiaoyu's chest. The image was too much. The laugh bubbled out of Shen Jiu before he could stop it. He wrapped his arms around himself as the sound streaked into the air, chest aching with it. He didn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard. Once he started, he couldn't stop.

"You—" Liu Xiaoyu bit out. "You—"

Liu Xiaoyu stumbling over his words only made the whole scene funnier and Shen Jiu doubled over again trying to control himself. He sucked in a few breaths and pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle the sound. When he finally looked up at Liu Xiaoyu he found the other boy red-faced and frozen.

"What?" Shen Jiu cocked a brow.

"N-nothing," Liu Xiaoyu shuffled, the water rippling around him.

Shen Jiu looked him over and shook his head, suppressing another bout of laughter. This boy, he may have been some prodigy but he was really very helpless. A pretty young lord certainly, raised in a luxury Shen Jiu could barely imagine. But really, he was no more than a brute.

Shen Jiu clambered out of the pond and squeezed out some of the water from his robes, then held out a hand.

"Come on, Liu Xiaoyu. Or were you going to swim all night?"

Liu Qingge blinked up at him, then took his hand and let Shen Jiu pull him out of the pond.

They located some dry clothes, Liu Xiaoyu handing some of his own robes over instead of Shen Jiu going to get his own. Shen Jiu felt a little fluttery, an unfamiliar lightness running through his chest as they made their way to the kitchen. That faded when he realized he'd have to make the tea. Liu Xiaoyu hadn't even known how to pour the water right

But as they sat together in one of the small rooms overlooking the garden, Liu Xiaoyu picking up the pot to pour Shen Jiu's tea first, the feeling returned. A light and airy thing like the first swoop he felt when he leapt high with his qinggong.

They sat in silence as the water in the teapot grew low. Then Liu Xiaoyu mumbled something.

Shen Jiu looked up from his cup. "What?'

"Xiaoyu," he repeated. "You should call me that."

Shen Jiu froze, something soft and fluttery winding through his chest. "What?"

"It's weird. If you use my full name."

"Is it?"

"Mn," Liu Xiaoyu nodded. He shuffled a little then reached out to take the pot and pour Shen Jiu another cup. "Xiaoyu is better."

He was quiet for another long moment as he sipped his tea. His ears grew red and he slammed his cup down, looked up at Shen Jiu.

"Good spar, Shen-xiong."

Then he darted to his feet and out the door without another word. Shen Jiu stared after him as the tea cooled in his hand.

"Shen…xiong…." Shen Jiu repeated. His face felt hot and the cup creaked in his hand "Shen-xiong!"

…

Liu Xiaoyu had not stayed long that trip. But he returned a few months later as he always did. They fell into a routine on these visits. They'd spar, usually dirty themselves up, then sit and drink tea late into the night. Shen Jiu had become a much better muscian and where his qi had always threatened to flood out of him in an uncontrollable wave, he'd learned stability as he channeled it through the strings of his pipa. Just as Zhao Qingshuang had said.

As sat on the roof under the waning moon restringing his pipa as he waited for Liu Xiaoyu to arrive as promised, he couldn't help but think of the first time Liu Xiaoyu had asked him to play. It had been after he'd sent Liu Xiaoyu spiraling into the pond with a dizzying strum of the pipa. Liu Xiaoyu had breached the surface sputtering. He'd clambered out, dripping water over the smooth stones as he stomped up to Shen Jiu. Then he demanded Shen Jiu play. Liu Xiaoyu had been standing so close, his long lashes clumped together, a bead of water dripping down his cheek next to his little mole. He'd grown since they first met and now Shen Jiu had to look up at him and something about the intensity of that gaze was really so—

The string in Shen Jiu's fingers slipped and his hand whipped out to catch it before it fell from the roof. What was he doing? Thinking like that. Ridiculous. Liu Xiaoyu was just Liu Xiaoyu. Of course he was pretty! That was an objective fact. Shen Jiu didn't need to think too hard on it.

He huffed, looking out over the gardens. The smell of gardenia and plum blossom drifted through the night air, the trickling of the little waterfall to the side of the main garden echoing back over the sloped rooftops. Liu Xiaoyu was really so… he was…

A streak of white through the air drew his attention and he leapt off the roof, touching down in a flutter of robes at the same time Liu Xiaoyu stepped off Cheng Luan.

"Shen-xiong," he said.

"Xiaoyu," Shen Jiu said back. They were standing a little too close, Shen Jiu had misjudged the distance. He swallowed, chest tight but refused to take a step back and draw attention to it.

"You waited up," Liu Xiaoyu said.

Shen Jiu rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't have had to if you didn't take so long."

Liu Xiaoyu shuffled a little, then reached into his sleeve and thrust something towards Shen Jiu's face.

"Here," he said. "For you."

Shen Jiu held out his hand and Liu Xiaoyu dropped a silk brocade bag into it. He opened it to find it full of small round seeds shimmering pearlescent in the moonlight.

"Good for cultivation," Liu Xiaoyu crossed his arms and darted his head away. "And sweet."

Shen Jiu's fingers closed around the bag, tucking it gently into his sleeve. "Oh…" He didn't know what to say. He was still at a loss whenever he received a gift. "Thank you."

"Mn."

Shen Jiu shuffled, heart fluttering. He was being ridiculous. He knew that. His eyes cut to Liu Xiaoyu, and he hummed, forcing the airy feeling in his chest back down. "I didn't know a brute could give a thoughtful gift. Like playing a lute for an ox.”⁵

Liu Xiaoyu bristled. "You!"

This was easier. The tension simmered between them. Shen Jiu cocked his brow then bounded backward as Liu Xiaoyu lunged. Shen Jiu darted over the rooftops, the wind in his hair and the sound of Liu Xiaoyu gaining speed behind him. His heart raced as he dove to weave through a familiar copse of trees, Liu Xiaoyu, as alwasys, right behind him.

…

Shen Jiu placed his hands on the strings of the guqin to still them. He'd grown to love the guqin as much as the pipa as his cultivation flourished. They served different purposes and while strumming the strings of the pipa could send any of his opponents into a frenzy, make them drop to their knees and cover their ears or lead them to walk themselves into the garden pond, he could draw the attention of his listeners with the guqin in a way he'd never been able to with the pipa.

Zhao Qingshuang smiled at him, some of the haze clearing from her vision as the music stopped.

"You've become quite gifted, Jiu-er," she said. Behind her head, the summer sun filtered through the full leaves of a ginkgo tree, a few birds flitting up into the branches, their chirps curling through the air.

He bowed his head. "Thanks to you, Ayi. ⁶ I wouldn't have been able to play a single instrument if you hadn't allowed me to stay here."

Her lips quirked up. "I knew that was on your mind."

He idly stroked a finger along the guqin string, gut twisting at being read so easily. Even if it had been two years since he first came to the Lius, since Zhao Qingshuang had insisted he was a member of her family and sent Qiu Jianluo away, he still couldn't help the way he tensed or his thoughts spun whenever she seemed to know what he was thinking. Unlike Liu Xiaoyu who would've asked him what was wrong with no tact whatsoever, she didn't say a word. Instead she slid a piece of parchment from the pile on her desk and handed it over.

"Jiu-er," she said as he took it from her. "My son says Cang Qiong Mountain will be opened for their trials soon."

He looked at the letter, at Liu Xiaoyu's sharp scrawl then set it down again. His gut twisted and he tucked his hands into his sleeves.

"So he does," he said.

Zhao Qingshuang arched a brow. "I've made preparations for you to go."

His head darted to her, all this thoughts blanking out. "What?"

"Well you'll be taking the trials, of course," she said as if this was something they had already discussed. "I would feel best if I could be assured you arrived safely and well-rested."

"I—" His lips thinned. "Why would I—"

"Jiu-er." It was the same tone she used when Liu Xiaoyu blurted something out at dinner that should certainly have been kept to himself. She didn't say more, only settled back to watch him, letting the silence stretch until Shen Jiu's ears were ringing with it. Shen Jiu hated this, hated how he could feel the weight of her expectation, hated how his thoughts twisted around themselves sealing his lips, hated how he already knew that whatever came out of his mouth would disappoint her.

But what else could he do? She had been kinder to him than anyone, had taken care of him like he was her son and not some stray she'd picked up.

"I can't go," he said finally.

Her expression didn't even twitch. She'd expected this, too.

"And why is that?"

His lashes lowered, fingers curling into his palms. "Cang Qiong Mountain is for only the best."

"Mn," she nodded.

"It's where lords and nobles send their most talented children to learn cultivation."

"Mn," she nodded again. She sounded just like Liu Xiaoyu.

"I'm not—" He couldn't say it. Couldn't get the words past the tightness in his throat. How could he admit his shortcomings when it should be obvious. He was not some noble's son, even if he sat here in Zhao Qingshuang's richly appointed study in silk robes made just for him with his own pristinely polished guqin in front of him.

"You would say Xiaoyu is worthy of being a disciple of Cang Qiong Mountain, wouldn't you?" She asked. His eyes met hers and he was forced to nod. "And what is your record of wins and losses with my son?"

"He has won more often than he has not," Shen Jiu said.

"Are you telling me you do not know the exact number?" Her lips curled up in a sly smile.

Shen Jiu gritted his teeth. "It is eighteen wins for Liu Xiaoyu and ten for me." All of those, of course, he'd had to win by being at his fastest, his most clever, feet barely touching the ground before he was spinning away to dodge Liu Xiaoyu's relentless pace. Last year it had been more even between them, but every month he spent on Cang Qiong Mountain he came back stronger than before. Shen Jiu knew that Liu Xiaoyu would far surpass him, that there would come a day Shen Jiu would stop winning at all. He already heard what people had begun to call Liu Xiaoyu, the War God of Bai Zhan Peak. He would be successor, Shen Jiu was sure of it.

"Do you know how often Xiaoyu's cousin has won against him in the past two years?" She asked. Shen Jiu knew who she spoke of. He had sparred often with Liu Jinhai, the nephew of Liu Xiaoyu's father. He was talented but he and Shen Jiu often came out evenly matched, these days. He did not fare as well to Shen Jiu's music.

"I do not," Shen Jiu answered.

Zhao Qingshuang's lips curled up. Liu Xiaoyu looked very much like his mother, sharing the same sharp nose and refined brow, but like this they couldn't have been more different. Liu Xiaoyu had never looked so mischievous.

"Only twice," she said. "And not once in the last year."

Shen Jiu clenched his jaw so he could keep his expression in place. Liu Jinhai was certainly talented and still young, taught cultivation from his youth. He would be accepted to a well-known sect if he went to one. There was no way Shen Jiu had won against Liu Xiaoyu more often. He narrowed his eyes.

"How often have they sparred?"

"Jiu-er, always so suspicious," she laughed. "That's good, my son could learn to be more discerning. He has sparred Xiaoyu more often than you, in fact. My brother-in-law is alwasy asking Xiaoyu to instruct his son when he visits."

He stared at her, looking for a lie.

"I know what you're thinking," she said. "You like to think you can hide everything behind that cool expression, but I've known you too long. So if you thought Jinhai would be a good candidate for a sect, then what does that make you?"

His gut twisted and he ducked his head, staring down at the guqin sitting on the table, glinting in the late afternoon light. Silk rustled as Zhao Qingshuang stood and walked over. She had always been so careful with him, especially back in the beginning when he'd flinch every time she touched him. She moved slowly as she reached out to stroke a hand along his hair.

"You'll leave in a few days?" She asked, voice lilting up. No matter what she said, he knew with some strange warmth sinking into his bones, that she would not force him to go, that he could remain here, drinking tea and reading books and playing music, and she would never send him away. His throat tightened, eyes stinging as he swallowed hard.

"Alright," he whispered, the sound barely carrying over the wind and the chirping birds from outside.

"Good," she stroked a hand along his hair again, then very gently, bent down to press her lips to his forehead. "You're strong Jiu-er," she said softly. Her voice would echo in his ears even as he walked back to his room with the guqin cradled in his arms. "You'll be just fine."

…

Shen Jiu stood among a group of disciples in white and teal green, holding a cup of wine that one of his new shixiong had pushed into his hand. He was older than most of the disciples who'd come to the trials but when they'd learn he was from the Lius everyone had turned to him with a sort of awe. Of course, the Lius were a well-known cultivation family and he'd been trained with the many Liu children running around the grounds, but still, he hadn't thought their reputation would follow him so easily.

He'd also expected to be dressed in the midnight black and soft blues of the musical cultivators on Ling Yu Peak⁷. He'd gone to the trials, dug holes like he was told. But he'd also played his pipa and guqin when asked if he had any particular skills he wanted to show. That's where most of his cultivation talent lay. He could fight with a sword decently well, but the instruments felt right in his hand and he still gravitated towards them until he had to fight someone in close quarters.

If he was going to be accepted, he'd been sure it would be to Ling Yu Peak. But here he was, standing in a sea of green. Qing Jing Peak. He'd been asked for by the Qing Jing Peak Lord, taken as her personal disciple of which she only had two others. He still didn't understand why. But had poured her a cup of tea and then sat and played guqin when asked. She'd smiled at him in a way he realized, with a strange hollow swoop of his gut, reminded him not at all of Zhao Qingshuang. She'd then sent him to get settled in the dorms reserved for her personal disciples. He'd had only a few moments to stare blankly at the sparse but well-appointed room before he was being dragged to some banquet by his shixiong and shijie.

Apparently this had been a very good year for Cang Qiong mountain with many promising disciples chosen. So a banquet was in order.

He didn't know what to do. He had been so sure he would be sent back to the Liu estate that he'd never quite allowed himself to picture what it would be like to be accepted.

"Alright, Shen-shidi?" Lei Chunhua, his new Shizun's first disciple said.

"Yes, shijie." He ducked his head.

He tried not to jump when she cooed and ruffled his hair. "So cute, with that sullen face. You're like a little doll."

He pursed his lips and she laughed ruffling his hair again.

"Ah, Tengfei-shidi, we'll have to watch out for this one," she laughed, turning to their Shizun's other disciple, Fang Tengfei. Lei Chunhua turned Shen Jiu around with an arm around his shoulder, oblivious to the way he stiffened. "Look at this pretty face. He's a perfect cold beauty. We'll have to make sure someone doesn't come to snatch him up."

"Shijie," Fang Tengfei sighed. He carefully extracted her arms off Shen Jiu, shooting Shen Jiu a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry shidi. It's just that we've been with Shizun since we were very young and she's never accepted another personal disciple. Lei-shijie is just excited."

"Tengfei," Lei Chunhua pouted. "My family name? I thought we were closer."

"Shijie, really? What would Shizun think if she saw you? Propriety is very important to her."

"I know," Lei Chunhua pouted. "But we're celebrating aren't we. Let's—"

Shen Jiu slipped away before he could catch the rest of what she said. His heart was pounding. There were so many people here. All of the various peaks excusing their disciples from their duties to join the celebration. Food lined the tables and music echoed from nearby, mixed with laughter and clinking cups. Shen Jiu slipped along the wall until he found an entrance to one of the side gardens, stepping quickly out and into the night.

Autumn had come, the leaves turning golden even here at the heart of Cang Qiong Mountain, and with autumn had come late season rains. The gardens were lit up by night pearls and lanterns casting everything in a warm golden light even as rain trickled from the eaves.

He breathed in the fresh scent, letting the crisp air fill his lungs and settle his body. It was all alright. He'd been to several banquets the Lius hosted. It was just that at those he was always seated with the family, or tucked close to Zhao Qingshuang or Liu Xiaoyu's father Liu Fenglan⁸ when he was back from Court. Here, he was surrounded by people he did not know and his mind had yet to catch up to the fact that he was here. That he was supposed to be here.

"Jiu-xiong?"

Shen Jiu whipped around. There was only one person who called him that, the person who had called him Shen-xiong until the last time they'd wound up lying in the grass panting after sparring together and Shen Jiu had snapped that really, why was Xiaoyu acting like they were strangers, while he ignored his rapidly beating heart.

"Xiaoyu," Shen Jiu said. His heart ticked up the same way now, watching the rain and the lantern light cast delicate shapes across Liu Xiaoyu's pretty face. "Or it's Liu Qingge now isn't it? You were named successor."

"Mn," Liu Qingge said. "You can still call me Xiaoyu. If you want."

They stood staring at each other. It was hard to tell in the soft evening light, but Liu Qingge's stern face looked a little flushed.

"Well?" Shen Jiu said.

"What?"

Shen Jiu huffed and rolled his eyes. Whatever had kept him rooted to the ground snapping. He strode over and pushed Liu Qingge keeping his expression cool even as Liu Qingge stumbled back.

"Useless brute. Aren't you going to congratulate me. I'm the personal disciple of the Qing Jing Peak Lord, you know."

Liu Qingge gaze flickered down and then back up. He nodded. "I know."

"So?"

"I knew you'd do well. Why congratulate you on something that was certain?"

"You!" Shen Jiu bit out. Really the nerve of this boy. "You should be more respectful to me. I'm your shixiong now."

Liu Qingge arched a brow. "So?"

"So?"

Liu Qingge shrugged. "So? You're Jiu-xiong. What's different?"

"I see you've been away from home too long," Shen Jiu sniffed. Something familiar slid through his body. He could see the spark in Liu Qingge's eyes, feel the crackle of his qi as the tension thickened between them. Beside them the rain slowed to a stop, the clouds drifting away to show the half face of the moon. "As your shixiong, I should instruct you better."

Liu Qingge arched a brow. "We'll see if you can."

His hand flew to his sword just as Shen Jiu went for his pipa in his qiankun pouch. Liu Qingge was quick sweeping around Shen Jiu before crowding him back against the wall. His hand slammed in the stone beside Shen Jiu's head. Shen Jiu froze, looking up into Liu Qingge's flushed face, momentarily distracted by the fan of his dark lashes and the intensity of his gaze.

Liu Qingge stared down at Shen Jiu like he'd also been frozen in place, a light pink flushing across his cheeks. Shen Jiu's heart fluttered, his mind spinning. He thrust his hands out, knocking Liu Qingge away then he darted out into the wet garden.

They each sprang onto the rooftops of the large pavilion on Qiong Ding Peak. Shen Jiu bounded across tiles, spinning away from strikes of Liu Qingge's sword. They had sparred enough that Shen Jiu could already tell Liu Qingge wasn't putting his all into his strikes. There was something elated about his movements. Like the fluttering movements of a bird, not seeking prey but streaking higher and higher into the sky.

Shen Jiu leapt off the roof, drawing his pipa from as he touched briefly on one of the trees along a darkened path before flitting further, Liu Qingge following his trail. Shen Jiu ducked, dancing away from a sweep of Liu Qingge's blade then a kick. His nails skittered across the strings, sending a fast paced tempo trembling through the air. Liu Qingge missed his next step, slipping through tree branches before leaping onto Cheng Luan and streaking into the sky.

Shen Jiu leapt higher, gliding from branch to branch until he reached the top, the qi shimmering through his body making him feel light as air. He watched as Liu Qingge seem to pause for a moment, his long ponytail drifting in the wind as they met each other's gaze.

Shen Jiu strummed a few more notes, the song changing to arc into the air, stirring his blood and shivering through him to spark through his meridians. He reached down to draw his sword, holding the pipa with one hand and his blade with the other. His heartbeat slowed. He breathed in deep, the last notes of the song still ringing in his ears.

Then Liu Qingge shot through the air like a bolt of lightning. Their swords clashed, the blades ringing. Shen Jiu tightened his grip, teeth gritted as the vibration pulsed through him. Liu Qingge forced his body forward and Shen Jiu had a moment of weightlessness before he was tumbling backwards off his tree branch. He caught the momentary look of triumph on Liu Qingge's face. It transformed to shock a moment later as Shen Jiu's back collided with a lower branch, shaking leaves everywhere.

Pain lanced through Shen Jiu's body and he spat blood, hitting another branch as he tumbled down. His thoughts ran fast. He forced his knees up and kicked off the trunk of the tree, spinning away and out over the empty space of the path below. The air burst out of his lungs as a heavy force knocked into him. He tumbled across the ground, coming to a stop on his back with a hand cradling his head and a weight on top of him.

He blinked his eyes open to find Liu Qingge watching him, their noses almost touching. A flush spread high across Liu Qingge's face.

"Sorry," he said. "I knocked you down."

"We were sparring, Xiaoyu," Shen Jiu huffed. His heart had been calm through the fight, settled by his music and his familiarity with Liu Qingge. This was what they always did when they saw each other again. Inexorably drawn back together. But there had alwasy been some distance between them. It had never been like this, never with Liu Qingge pressed this close to him. His face burned as he lifted his eyes to meet Liu Qingge's, watching Liu Qingge's gaze dart down just a little, his lips parting before raising back up.

"Jiu-xiong," he said.

"Mmhmm," Shen Jiu said, his mouth suddenly dry.

"I think I really…" Liu Qingge's flush deepened. "I really like you."

"Mmhmm," Shen Jiu nodded, unable to say a single word as Liu Qingge's head dipped to press their foreheads together. He swallowed around his heart climbing up his throat.

"I'm going to kiss you now." Liu Qingge's breath fanned out in the narrow space between their faces.

Shen Jiu squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to suck in a breath but he felt strangled.

"Just— Just do it already then!" He snapped. "You—"

Liu Qingge's mouth crashed into his hard enough for their teeth to click together. Shen Jiu gasped and Liu Qingge slipped, his teeth digging into Shen Jiu's lip. It hurt, pain prickling down his spine in a way that made his thoughts go fuzzy. Liu Qingge was as persistent in kissing as he was in fighting, one hand tangled in Shen Jiu's robes to hold him still while the other was still curled along the back of his head, fingers weaving through his hair.

Shen Jiu had never been kissed before. There had been a time he'd thought his first kiss would be with Qi-ge. He'd imagined in the way that only children do that one day they'd run away together and they would do their three bows and drink wine and then Yue Qi would kiss him. As the days ticked by under Qiu Jianluo's cruel hand and sharpening gaze, a worse image had taken it's place. Of this thing, this tiny bit of his autonomy, being taken from him by that beast of a young lord, too.

But then he'd awoken in the Liu estate and those fears melted away until he'd found himself here, in this moment, laying on a forest path on Cang Qiong Mountain, with Liu Xiaoyu, the boy he'd spent years with, kissing him like a clumsy love-drunk fool.

Liu Qingge. Liu Xiaoyu.

Shen Jiu really was… he must have really been in love with Liu Xiaoyu.

His hands lifted to curl around Liu Qingge's cheeks as he pressed up. Spit slicked down his chin as their noses bumped together. He realized he didn't know any more about what he was supposed to do than Liu Qingge did. But it really didn't matter. His body was flushed with warmth, heart thudding away as Liu Xiaoyu traced the curve of his lips with his tongue and Shen Jiu opened his mouth to let him. He knew there were probably leaves tangled in his hair, that his new robes were wrinkled, that there was dirt smudged on his cheeks, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered

Liu Qingge had said he liked him. Liu Qingge liked him.

They finally broke away for air, panting against each other's mouths. Liu Qingge's face was flushed, his dark eyes tracing Shen Jiu's face.

"Jiu-xiong—"

"— told you someone would snatch him up!"

They both darted their heads to the side to see both of Shen Jiu's new martial siblings leading a small group of assorted disciples in varying colors.

"Shijie," Fang Tengfei said. "I have a feeling Shen-shidi may have already been spoken for."

"No, no, absolutely not," Lei Chunhua shook her head. "See that was definitely a first kiss. No doubt about it. Hey! You Bai Zhan Peak brat. Get off my shidi!"

"I—" Liu Qingge's face turned progressively red, obvious even under the moonlight. There was a few snickers from the gathered crowdm drowned out as thunder rolled in the distance, the earlier storm promising to sweep back in.Shen Jiu stared, his face growing hotter and hotter. Something in his mind snapped. He shoved Liu Qingge off and jumped to his feet. Liu Qingge sprawled on the ground staring up at him. Shen Jiu darted a look at him, then the gathered disciples, then back at Liu Qingge.

"Jiu-Xiong." Liu Qingge's gaze never left him.

Shen Jiu closed his eyes, sent a prayer to the gods for patience, then grabbed Liu Qingge's hand and darted down the path to laughter arching into the air.

¹ Liu Xiaoyu 晓雨 (Dawn/Daybreak Rain). Liu Qingge's given name before he gets his courtesy name as Bai Zhan Peak successor. ^{return to text ↩}

² Zhao Qingshuang 赵清霜 (Clear Frost), Liu Qingge's mother. ^{return to text ↩}

³ Chengyu which essentially means pulling shoots up by the roots to help them grow (拔苗助长 bá miáo zhù zhǎng). Shen Jiu is saying Liu Qingge is trying too hard, that he is being overly enthusiastic about giving advice that Shen Jiu didn't want. ^{return to text ↩}

⁴ Another chengyu (强词夺理 qiǎng cí duó lǐ) used for someone who is arguing from an unreasonable position. Liu QIngge is essentially saying Shen Jiu is arguing for no reason. ^{return to text ↩}

⁵ Another Chengyu meaning playing a harp or a lute for a cow (对牛弹琴 duì niú tán qín). It means doing something for someone that won't appreciate it or understand its value/importance. ^{return to text ↩}

⁶ Auntie ^{return to text ↩}

⁷ The name for the peak of musical cultivators: 泠玉峰 Peak of Sounding Jade ^{return to text ↩}

⁸ Liu Fenglan 风岚 (Wind and Mountain Mist), Liu Qingge's father. ^{return to text ↩}