Work Text:
Yue Qingyuan strolled across the sleeping town of Lijiang. It was a beautiful place, with narrow cobblestone streets and two story buildings that seemed to wrap around the night sky. On the horizon, the dark presence of Yulong mountain reminded him of how far he still had to go. However, he wasn’t in a hurry; if he were, he would’ve flown straight to the base of the mountain. Instead, he chose to leisurely walk alongside the quiet murmur of the river that parted the town into two. Every once in a while, a strong gush of wind would rattle the window covers and lanterns. They were as brief as they were powerful, though, and they did little to deter him from his quest.
Two weeks ago, Cang Qiong Sect received notice of unusual phenomena coming from Yulong. Usually, the mountain would protect Lijiang village from strong wind currents but now it seemed as if a dragon wanted to blow the town away. Since the wind started, the street markets had remained closed and only the heavier men and women dared to leave their homes. There were also reports of deafening dizi tunes raising from the mountain each morning. The sharp sound made the ground rumble and drove the animals insane. Some brave villagers ventured to the base of the mountain to find an explanation for the weird occurrences but they never got too far. Once they entered the forest, the wind would stop them, sending hundreds of tree leaves, sharp as knives, towards them.
It didn’t take long for rumors to begin: a dragon, a new heavenly demon, a vengeful god. Cang Qiong Sect followed all the leads but only one made sense: a new supreme ghost had been created.
Admittedly, it was unheard of. Until now, all supreme ghosts came to be from volcanoes. Why would one of them chose a dormant mountain as its kiln was beneath Cang Qiong Sect’s knowledge. However, only that would explain the great number of ghosts gathering around the area. So far they’ve been peaceful, only detectable thanks to Ku Xing Peak’s artifacts, but they knew that could change at any moment.
Yue Qingyuan offered to investigate the case himself. As expected, his martial brothers and sisters were completely against it, but he disregarded their concerns. After all, he only planned to gather information. He wouldn’t challenge the supreme (if that was what it really was) and would leave as soon as he could discover its intentions. Besides, the truth was that he couldn’t trust his more bellicose juniors with such a task. It had only been a half decade since the near tragedy of Mai Gu Ridge. They didn’t need another cataclysm on their hands.
Moreover, Yue Qingyuan had grown to enjoy being away from the sect. Before, he had been too concerned about his martial siblings and disciples. He never quite forgave himself for the demon invasion that happened during his absence and from then on he decided he wouldn’t leave the sect if he could help it. Yue Qingyuan would be the first to admit that the main reason for his concern was Shen Qingqiu’s wellbeing. Therefore, with his Shidi away from the sect, he had less motives to confine himself within the mountain.
That didn’t mean he neglected his Sect Leader duties. He simply started delegating tasks and giving himself the chance to breathe every now and then. If it came with the perk of stopping himself from dwelling in his misery, it was purely coincidental.
He was happy for Shen Qingqiu; he really was. Seeing his smile filled Yue Qingyuan with joy and relief. All he ever wanted was to see him content and safe, whether he was part of his life or not. Still, knowing Shen Qingqiu had managed to be happy without him gave him a bittersweet solace. It ached to watch Qing Jing Peak raising from the mist every morning, to see Shen Qingqiu’s empty seat in the meeting hall of Qiong Ding Peak, to look at the few paintings he managed to salvage for himself after his Shidi lost his memories. They all reminded him of what never belonged to him in the first place, and of what he could’ve had if things had gone differently. Leaving the sect allowed him to keep his mind away from the one he missed so dearly and so he began taking almost as many missions as he did when he was still a head disciple.
He was hoping this particular quest would keep him away for at least two weeks when he heard the sound of bare footsteps treading along the cobblestones. Yue Qingyuan stopped on his tracks and waited for the intruder to approach him.
A girl showed up almost right away. She wore a vaporous yellow hanfu and her ears and neck were adorned with dozens of little jade pendants that chimed with each step. She coquettishly giggled as she circled around him twice before considering him worthy of her salute.
“What an honor it is to receive a visit from the renowned Cang Qiong Sect Leader,” she said.
“And with whom do I have the honor to speak?” he asked with a polite smile, not wanting to escalate whatever was going on.
“You may call this lowly one Jingjing,” she crooned, clearly used to enticing men with her charms. What a pity it was that such a young girl had to learn such talents.
What a pity it was that she was a ghost.
“And what brings Jingjing to Lijiang city?” He asked.
The girl’s laughter pierced the night.
“What could it be but yourself, Sect Leader? My master, Yellow Flower Green River, has been expecting you.”
“How could I be of any use to your master?”
“That,” she offered her hand, “is for him to explain. Shall we, Sect Leader?”
Yue Qingyuan didn’t hesitate to reach her hand. If the supreme ghost wanted him dead, he would’ve attacked him right away. This was the easiest way to find what the ghost wanted and he trusted his skills to escape from danger if it ever came to it. Still, he knew Qi Qingqi would kill him for his recklessness. It was a good thing she wasn’t here to see it.
The girl locked her hand with his and murmured the first verse of a poem. Suddenly, a violent gush of wind, stronger than any other Yue Qingyuan had ever experienced, swept them off their feet. The wind carried them up and out of the city, and into the southern crest Yulong mountain. The wind rocked them gently into the ground, right in front of a bamboo building illuminated by yellow and green lanterns.
Being the middle of autumn, the mountain should’ve been mostly covered with snow. However, the crest’s forest was still green and lush. The smell of green tea and bamboo emanated from the building, and the grass across it was decorated with yellow flowers that survived despite the high altitude. Yue Qingyuan couldn’t help but sigh with relief when he realized that the ghost had such gentle tastes. It would’ve been harder to enter the ghost’s lair if it was covered with human corpses and fetid smells.
Yue Qingyuan followed Jingjing’s steps into the bamboo house. For a moment, there was a weak whisper of recognition, but the girl’s words stopped his line of thought.
“Welcome to Green Creek, my master’s abode.”
She brought him into the main hall. There, on the left corner, a small group of women played a soft tune. On the center front, over a dozen women doted on a man wearing a green hanfu. They laid together over a mountain of blankets and cushions. The supreme ghost’s hair, dark as ink and lustrous as silk, was decorated with a jade guan. His lips, sinuous and teasing, were tinted with dark red lip balm. His eyes, gray and piercing, looked straight into Yue Qingyuan’s soul.
His heart skipped a beat.
“Qingqiu?” He asked, his voice trembling. “How? When?”
The man in front of him, a powerful ghost that must have been dead for at least a decade, looked just like his Shidi but it couldn’t be him. He just heard from him one month ago, when he received his letter accompanied with a bag full of sentient crimson wormwood seeds. The ghost was teasing him, surely, using the face of his most beloved person to haunt him.
“How you ask? When?” The man smirked before raising an open fan to cover his face. The fan looked as familiar as his appearance. With a flip of his wrist, the women were dismissed. They hurried outside but not before kissing the ghost on his cheek and hands. Some of the girls giggled as they passed by Yue Qingyuan.
“It breaks my heart,” continued the ghost, “that not even Qi-ge, the only person who ever claimed to care for me, noticed when I died.”
Any wish for diplomacy immediately disappeared from Yue Qingyuan’s mind. He put his hand over Xuan Su’s hilt. He would destroy this supreme before he could show this face to anybody else.
“You’re not the real Shen Qingqiu.” If he were dead, Luo Binghe would’ve already raised hell. Yue Qingyuan would’ve helped him.
The ghost barked a spiteful laugh. It was full of resentment and contained rage. It was familiar, much more so than the current Shen Qingqiu’s gentle smiles. It shook Yue Qingyuan to the core.
“Am I not? Who else would call you Qi-ge?”
“But Hong Jing… Wei-shidi tested him for possession…”
“How could it be a possession when the original owner of the body was already dead?”
The ghost stood up and, with a wave of his fan, he created an air current that swept him forward. He gently landed right in front of Yue Qingyuan.
“It’s fine, Qi-ge. I understand. It was easier this way, wasn’t it? It was easier to pretend that I had lost my memories, that I had become a better person, that I had the chance to be happy.”
Yue Qingyuan pondered on the ghost’s words. He remembered his desperation when he realized how much Shen Qingqiu had changed; how the other Peak Lords were either indifferent or welcoming to the change; how he wished to do more, but couldn’t.
“No, it wasn’t.” The ghost’s eyes shot wide open for a second but he soon regained his composure. “I really thought it was you but I mourned you regardless.”
“And you should have mourned me, Qi-ge, for I died many years ago,” he lowered his eyes in an unexpected display of sadness. “It wouldn’t have been that bad, you know? My life wasn’t good. I was hurting. Death would’ve come with rest, with new beginnings. It would’ve been nice, wouldn’t it, Qi-ge? To be born into a happy household? Not to have to struggle to keep myself alive? To have the chance to do good? But not even in death could I rest,” his face turned into a scowl, hateful and raging, just like the one that adorned the Shen Qingqiu he once knew. “I remained bound to him. I had to stay by his side as he took everything from me. I saw his selfishness, his lies, his disregard for everyone but that filthy beast. I saw him opening his legs for him. I was forced to see everything until my resentment was strong enough to release me. I’m free now, Qi-ge, and now I will take back what is rightfully mine. I’ll destroy him and send him back to wherever he came from.”
“But Qingqiu-shidi,” said Yue Qingyuan, “I’m sure he meant no ill. He was helpful. He saved us all with his sacrifice.”
“Saved you? From what? From the hell he brought upon himself?”
“Shidi…”
“He took everything from me, Qi-ge!” A violent gush of wind rattled the windows. “He took my name, my body and my disciples! He took my glory when I would’ve just gotten accusations! He took my empathy when all I received was contempt! He took my dignity when he decided to lay with that demon! He even took your confession, Qi-ge, when I only received halfhearted apologies.”
An anger that Yue Qingyuan did not know he could possess suddenly arose from his chest. Shen Qingqiu was right. The impostor took everything that would’ve belonged to his Shidi if the world had been a kinder place. He even took his secret, the one he swore to keep until the end of days, and he didn’t even care about it.
“I was there, Qi-ge. When you told him the truth. If only I had known you tried. If only I had known you always cared. It made me so angry, to think about all that I had lost. My resentment burned for days until I was finally able to set myself free. I can do as I please now, and nothing would please me more than killing the impostor. Would you help me, Qi-ge?”
Shen Qingqiu cupped Yue Qingyuan’s face with his right hand. It was as warm and tender as it was on his dreams.
“I can’t kill him,” he said. Shen Qingqiu frowned. “He looks just like you. I could never…”
His words pleased Shen Qingqiu so much, he caressed Yue Qingyuan’s lips with his thumb.
“Oh, Qi-ge. I would never ask you to do that.”
Yue Qingyuan sighed with relief despite knowing that Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t make him kill the impostor simply because he wanted to do it himself.
“I just want you to take care of the beast,” said Shen Qingqiu.
This time, Yue Qingyuan didn’t even have to think about his answer. Luo Binghe was half heavenly demon, he was unhinged and at any time he could become as dangerous as Tianlang Jun. It would be best to get rid of him. It would be easy too, if he caught him off guard.
“I’ll get it done.”
Shen Qingqiu smiled. The grin was greedy, vicious, and so real and tantalizing that Yue Qingyuan wondered how he could ever yearn for the impostor’s bland smile.
“Qi-ge is so kind to me,” purred Shen Qingqiu. He then raised his head and kissed Yue Qingyuan on the lips. It tasted tangy and sweet. He must’ve eaten one skewer of tanghulu before meeting him. It was so endearing, Yue Qingyuan jumped at the chance to hold him close. The embrace felt like a dream and he knew from that point on that he would do anything for him.
“Thank you for coming back for me once again, Qi-ge,” Shen Qingqiu whispered the words into his neck. Yue Qingyuan shivered.
“Always, Xiao Jiu. Always.”