Chapter Text
[This project had been overwritten. Accept our sincere apologies. You may take over your body in another universe, code name P.I.D.W.]
Shen Jiu didn’t have an opportunity to ask the System what the hell it was talking about, because the world around him turned black and all sensations around him disappeared. He recognized the feeling.
He woke up lying in a bed. He immediately jerked forwards, assessing for threats before he even realised where he was properly. The bedding fell from him in the process, and he felt a firm hand stop him from scrambling to his feet.
“Easy. You’re safe,” said… Yue Qingyuan? It had to be Yue Qingyuan, even if Shen Jiu had forgotten what his face looked like, this was unmistakably his headpiece. He had been wearing it for years before Shen Jiu had…
He felt faint because of his earlier quick motion, and Shen Jiu allowed the hand to move him back a little bit, so he would lean on the wall. His eyes tore away from Yue Qingyuan’s face long enough to recognize where he was.
He hadn’t been inside his bamboo house in seven years, but it still looked the same.
“What happened?” asked Shen Jiu, his head still dizzy.
He checked his meridians, and found them as wrapped and tangled as they used to be. Not an illusion then.
“You had another qi deviation,” explained Yue Qingyuan, wrapping his large hand around Shen Jiu’s wrist. His voice and tone so familiar it ached.
How many years had it been since they last touched each other? Seven… or longer? Shen Jiu couldn’t remember when the last time was.
The touch burned. “It appears that the effects of it are over, but if you feel any…”
Shen Jiu let the words drone past him gently as he thought. Last time he had a qi deviation was… when he died and woke up in another body. Now he found himself back…
“System?” he thought desperately.
There was no answer.
Was it all just a dream? A strangely detailed fiction caused by a qi deviation? But what about…
“The children,” said Shen Jiu out loud as the horror pierced him.
Did his children just never exist? The thought alone filled him with dread.
“Your disciples?” asked Yue Qingyuan, oblivious to his horror. “They are with the hall masters I assume. It is still morning…”
Who cared about his damned disciples? He glared at the face that he hated, and loved, and missed, and hated missing. This old ache and the gnawing pain of his children’s absence mixed into something so awful it was unbearable to tolerate.
“Leave,” Shen Jiu said sharply, turning away.
“Of course,” said Yue Qingyuan, not putting up a fight.
He never did.
Shen Jiu regretted sending him away the moment the door closed, but he was too proud to beg him to come back. Now he was alone with his thoughts and that was the real nightmare.
A-Yao. The son given to him by the System, the one who crawled into Shen Jiu’s heart and made it his home. Hardworking and clever with that amusing cunning streak of his. Did he ever exist or was he just a character in a book Shen Jiu once read, made alive in his disturbed mind? How could losing someone imaginary feel like a piece of flesh was gnawed out of his chest? A-Yao had to exist, there was no other way!
A-Ying. The brat he picked up to experiment on. The boy so full of light he managed to brighten Shen Jiu’s life in a way little else could. The genius with no common sense and a heart of gold. Could Shen Jiu even imagine someone as ridiculous as A-Ying?
No, the children had to be real.
They had to be.
With him back here they had to be left alone… or even worse with his empty body. They had been in the mountains, they could think he had just frozen to death…
Or if his body was gone, they could think he just abandoned them. As if he ever could leave them! He couldn’t leave even that brat Xue Yang, who was an awful, annoying child too similar to Shen Jiu for comfort.
Desperately, he called for the System again and again and again. There was no answer.
He hadn’t felt so alone in seven years.
Shen Jiu buried his face in his knees and screamed.
He felt like a ghost at his own peak.
Shen Jiu refused to teach classes, he didn’t want to be reminded of… them. He avoided his disciples, in fact, he avoided everyone.
Ming Fan dared to ask him for instructions only once. Shen Jiu tolerated him up to the moment when the boy offered to make tea. Imagining someone who wasn’t Meng Yao making him tea, made him so furious he ordered Ming Fan not to come in his vicinity in the next month.
Yingying was the next person who attempted to breach his solitude. The sound of her high voice announcing herself was enough to make Shen Jiu shudder.
It sounded like mockery1.
He remembered snapping the door open and snarling something at her, something he didn’t even remember. Shen Jiu could see her eyes well with tears as the tray with food shook in her hands.
He couldn’t bring himself to care, even if she was worried for him. His cultivation was high enough to make do with no food or sleep, so why bother?
Why bother with anything if nothing mattered anymore?
After that, no disciple dared to bother him. He didn't know if they'd been warned away or if they'd simply given up. He didn't care.
He actually didn’t know how much time had passed when Yue Qingyuan came to pester him.
“You missed the Peak Lord Meeting,” said Yue Qingyuan, his eyes fixed on Shen Jiu’s hair.
That’s right. Putting his hair up felt like too much work so he let it tangle.
“Did I?” asked Shen Jiu tonelessly.
“Are you feeling alright?” asked Yue Qingyuan. “Should I call for…”
“I am perfectly healthy,” said Shen Jiu. He would have to feel something to have a qi deviation strong enough to kill him. He wished he would feel something strong enough…
“Do you need anything? You know I will spare no resources…”
Shen Jiu stopped listening. Yue Qingyuan couldn’t bring him his children back.
Yue Qingyuan stopped talking. Perhaps he even asked a question. Shen Jiu wouldn’t know.
“Why do you care?” asked Shen Jiu, looking at the face of the man who had abandoned him. “I’m alive. I’m well. I lack for nothing. What else do you want from me?”
Yue Qingyuan looked at him, his eyes large and pathetic. “I want you to be happy.”
Shen Jiu laughed, the sound dry as the crackle of a fire. “Happy? I can never be happy here.”
He hadn't quite realized it before, but the children made him happy. He got used to the feeling and with it torn away, he felt empty.
Yue Qingyuan’s face did something complicated. Shen Jiu hadn’t seen him make this particular expression in years. His brow furrowed and his mouth twitched slightly, he was fighting himself.
“I could send you away,” said Yue Qingyuan finally.
Of course, he didn’t want Shen Jiu to be miserable where he could see him.
Yue Qingyuan continued. “For a month or so. Liu-shidi usually takes these sort of night-hunts, but you have seniority over him.”
Before it would have brought Shen Jiu joy to know that he had stolen something Liu Qingge wanted for himself. Now he couldn’t care less.
However, the thought of leaving his peak did sound appealing. If he didn’t know how to be Shen Qingqiu anymore, he could just become nobody again. A cultivator on a mission, nothing else.
“Fine,” Shen Jiu said. “Send me the details with a disciple. I had enough of your face for today.”
Before he would have considered that night-hunt an interesting one: a rare beast, which ran away from the demonic realm and was terrorising the mortals. The area was rural and there was no big sect nearby so Cang Qiong took it upon itself to deal with it.
Shen Jiu spent a week and a half on tracking the beast. Then three more days setting a trap and dispatching it.
He took his time putting away the body. Making sure to pack all the parts, something he wouldn’t usually do.
Anything to delay the return to Cang Qiong.
By the end of it, it was late, so he could spend the night in the closest town. He could stay at an inn, but the local brothel looked more appealing. Perhaps there he could sleep and not see the memories.
The shrewd-looking woman took too long asking for his preferences. Shen Jiu never cared what the girls serving him looked like, all he needed was a female presence in one room with him. He imagined it. Drinking tea with some girl, smelling too sweet and acting too subservient. Then having to explain that he wanted nothing from her.
“All I need is a music player,” said Shen Jiu. “I won’t touch them, so you can send a trainee.”
Perhaps a younger girl would be more like… No, Shen Jiu had to stop thinking of them.
“Does Noble Cultivator prefer the sound of a qin or a pipa?” asked the woman.
How strange for a brothel in a middle of nowhere to have a qin player. Perhaps she was like Meng Shi, too educated for the place she worked at.
“Qin,” said Shen Jiu curtly.
The room was like many others he'd been in: air heavy with the floral incense, the gauzy curtains hiding the bed from sight, the low table with the tea set. A servant girl had brought the tea but hadn't brewed it. Shen Jiu sat alone, listening to the echo of male laughter in the neighbouring room, and tried not to think about what was happening there.
The door opened.
Shen Jiu couldn’t believe his eyes.
“A-Yao?” he called, his voice shaking. It was his face, his hair, his hands holding a qin the way Shen Jiu had taught him.
The boy looked at him with a polite, indifferent expression, bowed and said, “This one was sent to entertain you with music. Do you have any preferences?”
Shen Jiu sprung to his feet, crossing the room in a few strides and startling Meng Yao enough to take a step back. Of course, he couldn’t recognize him.
“It’s me, A-Yao,” said Shen Jiu quickly, his words quicker than his thoughts. “Your Mother.”
“Excuse me?” asked Meng Yao, his voice angry.
“You were born in the Hundred Flowers Tower,” said Shen Jiu, not moving any closer, careful not to scare his son. “When you were seven, I set it on fire and took you Yiling. There we found A-Ying.”
Meng Yao’s face didn’t move and Shen Jiu suddenly felt scared. What if his son didn’t remember any of that? What if it was just a copy?
But then Meng Yao dropped his qin to the ground and ran, burying his face in Shen Jiu’s chest. Shen Jiu froze. It was a strange feeling to have Meng Yao shorter than him again. Meng Shi’s body was smaller, and now Shen Jiu could feel the difference well.
Shen Jiu put his hands on Meng Yao’s back, bringing him closer. A part of him wished that he could just fuse their bodies together so they would never separate again.
The fog that had fallen over Shen Jiu since he woke up back in his body disappeared, and finally he could see things clearly. If Meng Yao was here, who was to say that Wei Ying wouldn’t be? He couldn’t be sure about that brat Xue Yang, but Wei Ying had to be as important as Meng Yao.
Shen Jiu would find him, and then finally he would be able to give his children all the resources they needed or wanted. They would get only the best, as they deserved. At Cang Qiong nobody would dare threaten them or send them away. Finally they would be safe and happy and together.
Shen Jiu felt the ice that had frozen over his soul melt and it felt like he could finally breathe. He smiled, looking down on the top of his son’s head.
“But how?” asked Meng Yao, his voice hoarse. “How are you here? In a different body no less. You look like Madam Yu if she were a man.”
“I don’t know,” said Shen Jiu honestly. “This was my previous life. When I found myself back here I thought… I thought I lost you forever.”
He had no words to explain the despair that he had been feeling.
“I thought I had lost my mind,” said Meng Yao, still clinging to Shen Jiu. “If I didn’t have my cultivation, I would have thought I was mad for sure.”
“Why did you stay here if you still have your cultivation?” asked Shen Jiu strictly. Meng Yao was fourteen. He could be asked to serve clients. Shen Jiu let go to study Meng Yao for any signs of neglect or abuse, he seemed alright but you could never know.
“There was a voice,” Meng Yao said as he wiped the tears of his face with his sleeve. “It said that my mother needed me. Then I woke up here. I decided to stay for a few days, in case you were around. My cultivation is enough to deal with handsy men, not that there were many.”
That had to be the System’s doing. For the first time Shen Jiu felt something close to gratitude toward the malicious entity.
“A few days?” asked Shen Jiu. For him it had been months.
Meng Yao nodded. Shen Jiu looked at him and for the first time took in the implications of the boy’s silk robes. He was fourteen, which made him old enough to… Shen Jiu felt sick.
There were many things he wanted to ask Meng Yao and far more things he had to explain, but first they had to get out of here.
“Let’s go,” Shen Jiu said. “We can talk in the inn. I don’t want to stay in this place.”
If anybody tried to stop him from taking Meng Yao, it could end with violence. Shen Jiu wasn’t sure he could be reasonable in this situation.
“Do you have enough money to pay the Madam? She seems to believe I have always been here and that I have a contract…” Meng Yao trailed off softly, but the words still cut at Shen Jiu’s ears like brittle glass.
“You’re no cattle to be bought,” he said, grabbing Meng Yao’s wrist as he pulled him behind. The boy didn’t fight, matching Shen Jiu’s pace easily.
The guards looked like they wanted to make a fuss, but it was enough to put his hand on Xiu Ya’s hilt to dissuade them. They knew they couldn’t compare to a cultivator. This restraint saved them from being killed.
Shen Jiu felt the corners of his mouth lift as he watched Meng Yao pour him tea. The tea was subpar, but it was made by his son, so it was superior to any other kind of tea he could possibly have.
“What have you figured out about this world?” asked Shen Jiu and took a sip. Trust Meng Yao to make even bad tea taste passable. The sweetness of the honey distracted from the unpleasant bitter aftertaste.
“So it is a different world,” said Meng Yao, his tone pleased at having figured it out by himself. “At first I thought I had time traveled, but it still didn’t feel right. People here… they seem to believe that demons exist…”
Meng Yao looked at him, seeking confirmation. Shen Jiu nodded, “Indeed, they do.” Meng Yao’s eyes widened slightly, more wonder than fear.
“Our realms are close enough to mix, so the beasts and the plants in this world are much more dangerous. Having to fight those beasts and demons made cultivators develop further, so you might see techniques you couldn’t even imagine possible,” explained Shen Jiu.
At first, he used to think that in Meng Yao’s world cultivators were simply weaker, but the more he studied cultivation in the Jiang sect the more apparent it became that the progress of cultivation development was simply slower. It didn’t help that the cultivators were more involved with the worldly matters, so they didn’t spend as much time cultivating.
“You will learn more in Cang Qiong. It is my sect in this world,” Shen Jiu said, his tone close to cheerful. It felt nice to be able to simply bring Meng Yao to his own sect, where his place was guaranteed.
“What is it like?” asked Meng Yao. His eyes were genuinely curious. “I have heard it mentioned when I asked about cultivators, but they didn’t know much.”
“It is bigger than any other sect,” said Shen Jiu with pride. “There are twelve peaks, each with its own specialties and responsibilities and its own leadership. I’m the Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak, the second in seniority. Our domain is the four arts and strategy, which I’m sure you will excel at.”
Shen Jiu didn’t say that Qiong Ding Peak would likely suit A-Yao’s talents better. He wouldn’t give his son away even to Yue Qingyuan.
“So that’s how you knew cultivation,” said Meng Yao suddenly. “I have always wondered. I suppose there’s no easy way to explain remembering your past life.”
It was a good excuse, so Shen Jiu took it. If Meng Yao knew that his mother had been dead for seven years, that Shen Jiu had simply taken over her body and stole Meng Yao’s love for himself…
That wasn't worth thinking about. The truth would only hurt them both.
“Yes,” said Shen Jiu. “There is not.”
“Is it difficult to adjust to being a man again?” asked Meng Yao. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to remember being someone of a different gender.”
“A body is a body,” said Shen Jiu easily. “The only thing that changes is the way people perceive me.”
Meng Yao gave him a long look as if he was looking for something. Then he relaxed.
“I suppose I cannot call you Mother anymore,” Meng Yao said.
That hurt, but he was right. That would be… difficult to explain.
“You can when we are in private,” Shen Jiu said, not wanting to give it up for good. “But in public you will have to call me Shizun.”
“Like A-Ying does,” said Meng Yao. His face darkened. “I wonder where he is.”
“If you’re here, he has to be here as well,” said Shen Jiu. “We will find him.”
“And A-Yang?” asked Meng Yao cautiously.
“Him too,” Shen Jiu said. Xue Yang was his responsibility now, so if he was here as well, he had to retrieve him.
He took another sip of tea, which turned cold while they talked. Shen Jiu didn’t care.
He had his son back, and now he had hope. It was all that mattered.
The moment Shen Jiu and Meng Yao landed on Qing Jing Peak, they were accosted by a nervous Ming Fan.
“Shizun!” the boy squealed, his voice cracking. “It’s so good you are here. Can you tell Qi-Shigu2 that Qing Jing disciples cannot perform for Master Liang?”
Back to the sect for less than a minute and already he had a headache coming. It intensified when he saw Qi Qingqi approach flanked by Liu Qingge’s less annoying sister.
Shen Jiu looked at his head disciple, "I will deal with this. Now go to the Bamboo House and prepare the storage room to house a disciple. You have to finish by nighttime so you're allowed to bring help but make sure they don't break anything."
The storage room was the closest to his own. He would not have Meng Yao sleeping in the disciples' dormitories with all the rabble.
Ming Fan clearly had questions, but he didn’t dare ask, leaving after a quick “Yes, Shizun” and a curious glance thrown Meng Yao’s way.
“Shen Qingqiu, why the only time I need you, you had to disappear from the face of the earth?” asked Qi Qingqi.
She was frazzled by something. Usually she was a little rude but not like this.
“I’m here now,” said Shen Jiu. “What is it that Shimei wants?”
“That bastard by the surname Liang thinks that because he is related to the Emperor he can order us around!” said Qi Qingqi. “He demanded that my girls dance for him during his visit!”
Master Liang was known for his proclivities with women, so it wasn’t surprising Qi Qingqi wanted him nowhere near her disciples.
“That’s unfortunate,” said Shen Jiu, sincerely.
“Unfortunate he says!” snapped Qi Qingqi. “It’s unacceptable! Sect Leader agreed with me on that, however, he said I needed to find a worthy replacement. As if any replacement is worthy!”
“So you went to Qing Jing,” said Shen Jiu. “My peak is not known for dancers, and I doubt that Master Liang will be pleased with a simple musical performance.”
Especially considering his disciples’ wooden fingers. Embarrassments the whole lot of them.
“Shizun,” said Meng Yao quietly. “Pardon my impertinence, but wouldn’t a musical performance by you be superior to any other entertainment? Surely nobody can complain with such a replacement.”
Like always, Meng Yao had a smart solution. Master Liang couldn’t say shit if he received such an honor. And Shen Jiu wouldn’t mind performing, if it was to protect young girls from having to dance before the lecherous eyes of that man.
Qi Qingqi looked at Meng Yao for the first time since she had accosted Shen Jiu. “Your new disciple? This one has a head for politics. What is your name, Shizi3?”
Meng Yao bowed. “This one is called Yue Yao,” he said smoothly. Shen Jiu felt the blood draw away from his face.
That had completely skipped his mind. How could he be this idiotic?
“Yue?” repeated Liu Mingyan, her eyes wide. “And your father…”
Shen Jiu opened his mouth to interrupt, but Meng Yao spoke before he could, “My father is Yue Qingyuan.”
Both women looked dumbfounded. Before they could ask any more questions, Shen Jiu said in his most lofty tone: “We will be heading to Qiong Ding now. I will inform the Sect Leader that I will be the one performing for Master Liang. Now excuse us.”
Shen Jiu took Meng Yao by the shoulder and pushed him towards the rainbow bridge. They were halfway across before either of them spoke.
"Mother, that was rude," said Meng Yao quietly.
“Your mother is an idiot,” said Shen Jiu with a bitter sigh. He knew that Yue Qingyuan would agree to lie, but it was still such an embarrassing situation.
Meng Yao looked at him as if Shen Jiu had grown a second head. Which was rude. Shen Jiu could admit that he was wrong.
Sometimes.
“I forgot to tell you that Yue Qingyuan is the name of the sect leader of Cang Qiong Sect,” said Shen Jiu.
Meng Yao paled. "So now they think I'm the Sect Leader's son." He paused, his mind clearly racing through the implications. "We could say it was a joke?"
His tone betrayed that he knew exactly how unconvincing that would be.
Shen Jiu shook his head. “He will lie if I ask him to. It’s just… not something I want to do.”
“Wait…” said Meng Yao. “He is the man you named me after! Your childhood friend.”
“How do you know he is my childhood friend?” asked Shen Jiu. He couldn’t remember ever telling Meng Yao that.
“Yanli told me,” said Meng Yao. His eyes saddened. They both knew he would likely never see Jiang Yanli ever again.
“Don’t tell him anything I had told her,” said Shen Jiu.
He had called Yue Qingyuan his husband. That was too embarrassing.
Yue Qingyuan raised his head the moment he heard the door open. He told his head disciple to make sure he wasn’t disturbed, so if somebody entered that meant that either the sect was under attack by legions of demons or…
“Qingqiu-shidi. I wasn’t aware you were back,” he said warmly, feeling as if a piece of himself had returned to its place.
He scanned Qingqiu’s face for signs of fatigue or malnourishment, but his Shidi looked remarkably well. There was a certain shine to his eyes that made Qingyuan feel relieved.
After that qi deviation, Qingqiu’s eyes had looked so empty it reminded Qingyuan of old slaves broken beyond repair. It was harrowing to see such a look on the face he loved.
“I need a favor,” said Qingqiu plainly.
Always straight to the point as if it hurt him to spend a single second more than necessary in Qingyuan’s presence. Perhaps it did. It surely did and it was his own fault.
“Anything you need,” said Qingyuan. If there was anything he could give that could make up for his past mistakes, he would do it without a second thought.
He noticed a disciple in Qing Jing robes standing at the edge of Qingqiu's radiance: a boy with a fortunate face and perfect manners whom Qingyuan did not recognize. He knew all of the Qing Jing disciples by name and face, to see someone new was unexpected.
“This is now your son,” said Qingqiu as if making a report. “His name is Yue Yao.”
Qingyuan blinked.
“Could Shidi elaborate? This Qingyuan isn’t sure he understands…” he began.
“No,” said Qingqiu.
There was no other option, then. “Then I’m happy to meet my son,” said Qingyuan. “Is there anything I should know?”
He wondered where the boy could come from. Could he be Qingqiu’s… but why wouldn’t he claim him then?
“No,” said Qingqiu.
Qingyuan could feel that soon his Shidi would have enough of him and leave. He didn’t want that to happen, but he didn’t know how to stop it either.
“M… Shizun, be reasonable,” said the boy quietly. “Shouldn’t my father and I get to know each other?”
“As if fathers bother to know their sons,” scoffed Qingqiu. His irritation was softer than Qingyuan was used to seeing and he soaked it in his memory. These days he cherished anything that wasn’t outright hostility, and even hostility he welcomed.
This child… it gave him an opportunity.
“I could visit,” said Qingyuan, trying not to betray his hopefulness. “So Yue Yao and I could get to know each other.”
“Why would you need to visit?” asked Qingqiu mulishly.
Yue Yao sighed. “It’s not a bad idea. I’ve always wanted to get to know my father.”
He said it with such sincere-seeming tragedy that Qingyuan was reminded of Xiao Jiu’s best work. Perhaps this was his child… Though the appearance wasn’t similar.
Selfishly Qingyuan hoped there was no relation.
“Fine,” said Qingqiu. Qingyuan’s eyes widened. He didn’t dare hope…
“But no more than twice a week,” said Qingqiu strictly.
“Of course,” said Qingyuan. “I would hate to impose.”
He had no idea what was going on, but Qingyuan would not argue with luck.
“Also, when that pervert Liang arrives, I’ll be the one performing,” said Qingqiu imperiously.
Qingyuan was momentarily distracted by the graceful flicker of Qingqiu’s wrist, so it took him longer than usual to pick up on the implications.
Qi Qingqi might have made noise about Master Liang’s request. It was a clear overreaction as Master Liang was a reasonable person and would hardly do anything inappropriate publicly.
To think that Qi Qingqi decided to bother Qingqiu over this… Of course, Qingyuan was the one who told her to find the replacement, but he did it just to refuse while maintaining his good relationship with his Shimei. He didn’t actually expect her to arrange any entertainment of equal or higher worth.
“Did Qi-shimei ask you for a favor? Shidi shouldn’t feel pressured…”
“I do not require your input,” cut off Qingqiu. “It won’t do for our sect to allow our disciples to be dirtied with lecherous eyes. Or are you doubting my capabilities as a performer?”
“Of course not,” said Qingyuan quickly. “Master Liang will be honored to witness your performance.”
He truly would be. Qingqiu was as well known for his talents as he was notoriously reclusive. Qingyuan had always done his best to fend off invitations by the elites as he knew that Qingqiu would loathe to perform in front of them “like a monkey”. He had suspected that their childhood was the reason for this particular aversion.
“Actually…” added Qingqiu thoughtfully. “A-Yao shall perform with me. That will be a fine introduction. We can’t have anyone thinking that you are trying to hide your son.”
Qingyuan nodded. It was a reasonable strategy. He would have proposed something along these lines himself, but he was still getting used to the idea of having a son to introduce.
That wasn’t something he had thought would ever happen. To have a son one needed…
“And what shall I say about the boy’s mother if asked?”
Qingqiu scoffed. “You are adept at lying. Think of something!”
That wouldn’t be difficult to create a mother for his son. He could say she was a childhood friend. Someone he had to leave behind to join the sect. Someone who could never forgive him for his failings, so she raised their child without him. Yes, that would be simple.
“We can discuss the details together when you visit, Father,” said Yue Yao. “For now I’ll make sure to be vague.”
For the first time since Qingqiu came to his office, Qingyuan assessed his new son. The boy was bright and well mannered. He held himself as a child of a nobleman, but so did Qingqiu, and they both knew that wasn’t true. For Qingqiu to personally create a fake parentage for the boy it had to be somewhat scandalous in the least.
He would investigate later. Just in case that it was something that could hurt the sect.
“Mother, why does the Sect Leader look like Jiang Fengmian?”
“Don’t ask.”
“Is that why you looked at Sect Leader Jiang like he broke your heart?”
“Do you want to sleep in the shed tonight? That can be arranged.”
Mama always said that Binghe shouldn’t allow anger to weigh him down. “People can be mean and unfair sometimes, and it hurts,” she had said. “But you shouldn’t pick a fight, it never ends well. All we can do is bear it.”
Binghe couldn’t bear it anymore.
Mama bore everything with a smile and that didn’t keep her alive.
Binghe bore everything that came his way with his eyes lowered, but it didn’t keep him from being beaten and insulted. He was so tired of bearing it.
So when Ming Fan insulted his late mother’s gift and threw it away, Binghe couldn’t take it any longer. He hit Ming Fan in his contemptuous face and for a moment he felt satisfied. Then he was accosted by Ming Fan’s friends.
Binghe had no friends to fight for him, only Ning Yingying who was lovely but also the reason why Ming Fan took his pendant in the first place. Now she could do nothing but watch as Binghe was trying to give back every punch and every kick and failing.
“What is going on here?” asked an unfamiliar voice. Ming Fan’s heavy body was lifted off Binghe, allowing him to see the one who intruded on his fight.
It was a boy. The same age as Binghe, but where Binghe felt awkward and uncouth this stranger seemed elegant and refined, a proper cultivator despite his young age.
“Shizun spoke highly of his peak, so it’s surprising to see such an uncouth display and so close to the bamboo house… it’s a wonder Shizun wasn’t disturbed.”
The boy said Shizun and he wore the robes of a Qing Jing disciple, but Binghe didn’t recognise him. For a newcomer, he held himself with admirable confidence.
“You’re new here, so it’s understandable that you don’t know,” said Ming Fan. “This Luo Binghe is a known trouble maker, so I was educating him.”
“No, you weren’t!” said Ning Yingying. “You were the one who made trouble, taking A-Luo’s pendant and ganging up on him.”
“He was the one who hit me first,” said Ming Fan.
“It’s understandable that being hit would make one incensed to fight,” said the stranger soothingly, and Binghe felt a pang of disappointment. He didn’t know why he hoped that somebody other than Yingying would take his side.
“That said,” added the stranger. “What I saw could be called neither justice nor a punishment fitting for a great sect. It was no different from any street brawl and not befitting of the disciples of Cang Qiong.”
“Who are you to speak of the disciples of Cang Qiong?” asked Ming Fan’s stupider and angrier friend.
The stranger just smiled apologetically, unflappable. “Ah, I apologize, I should have introduced myself. My name is Yue Yao and I’m your newest shidi. Shizun will make an announcement tomorrow.”
“Yue? Like the Sect Leader?” asked Ming Fan’s slightly smarter friend.
“Yes,” said Yue Yao softly. “He is my father.”
Ming Fan had a look on his face as if he had understood something, and he was quick to leave, taking his entourage with him. Binghe was left alone with Yue Yao and Yingying.
“Are you alright?” asked Yue Yao with concern, kneeling in front of Binghe with a furrow on his forehead.
Now that Binghe got a closer look he thought that Yue Yao didn’t look much like the Sect Leader. His face was still familiar. The soft angles of his nose, the soft curve of his mouth, the gentleness shining in his eyes… Binghe was reminded of his Mama for a moment.
“I’m fine,” said Binghe. His whole body hurt but it was nothing new and Yue Yao had come along before he could be hurt significantly.
“How can you be fine?” asked Yingying. “They beat you up again and they did it all together which wasn’t fair at all.”
Binghe didn’t want to appear as a victim in front of Yue Yao, so he pushed himself on his knees and said, keeping his head low, “This Luo Binghe is grateful for the assistance.”
“There is no need to be so formal. Aren’t we martial siblings?”
“My name is Ning Yingying,” said Yingying. “If you need any help, you can come to me. I take care of my Shidis.”
She gave Luo Binghe a playful look, but he couldn’t bring himself to smile back. He tried to find his pendant on the ground with his eyes but it was nowhere to be found.
“Is something the matter?” asked Yue Yao.
Binghe looked down. “Da-Shixiong threw my Guanyin pendant away. I can’t see it anywhere.”
“We can look all together!” said Yingying brightly. “With three pairs of eyes we should find it quickly, right?”
Binghe couldn’t share her optimism. When things could go wrong for him, they usually did so he was used to it. If he lost his mother’s gift today that would be just his luck.
To his surprise after less than an hour of search Yue Yao called for him. “Is this your pendant, Luo-Shixiong?”
It was so strange to be called Shixiong that Binghe took long to react. But the moment he saw the pendant, he could feel the relief go through his whole body.
“Thank you,” said Binghe as he took the pendant and bowed deeply. “I know that it’s fake, but it was a gift from my late mother, so it’s precious to me.”
“People who take advantage of those who lack knowledge to gain wealth are simply despicable,” said Yue Yao with feeling. “Their crimes should not influence the gift’s significance. It was given to you with a lot of love, and that isn’t something that can be bought with money.”
Luo Binghe looked up as he raised from his bow. Yue Yao's soft smile at that moment reminded him of the Guanyin statues his mother used to pray before.
“A-Yao, show these talentless louts how this piece should actually sound.”
“Look at Yue Yao’s calligraphy. It tells a story not just with words but with brush strokes. Now your calligraphy can only tell a story of your lacking education!”
“A-Yao, help me demonstrate!”
“Yue Yao is the only one who got it correctly. Learn from him!”
Ming Fan felt that his days as a head disciple were numbered, but he could only grind his teeth in helpless frustration. There was no competing with the Sect Leader’s son, who was clearly favored by their Shizun as well.
And now he couldn’t even take his frustration out on Luo Binghe, who somehow got under Yue Yao’s protection.
Life was miserable at Qing Jing now.
“Mother, could you not favor me this blatantly? It does not endear me to the rest of the disciples.”
“It’s not my fault they are talentless and lazy.”
“Weren’t you the one who taught them?”
“I don’t teach all the lessons and I don’t waste my time on idiots. If they are like this it can only be their fault.”
Meng Yao sighed. He knew there was no winning this particular argument.
Liang Huaiyi was elated to finally see the famed Shen Qingqiu in the flesh.
He didn’t even dare to ask Sect Leader Yue to invite the man, as everybody knew that he guarded his shidi from the public eye with such fervor it made people whisper.
Opinions differed: some said Yue Qingyuan guarded the notorious beauty from the eyes of others because he wanted to keep the man for himself, others said that the Sect Leader didn’t want to deal with warding off the suitors. However, those rare few who had met Shen Qingqiu in person were adamant that the Sect Leader was merely protecting the rest of the world from his shidi’s terrible temper and vicious tongue.
It went without saying that Liang Huaiyi was intrigued.
And to think that he would get to hear Shen Qingqiu perform! That was much preferred to the delicate fairies of Xian Shu, who were barely above the usual entertainment in the Palace.
In his anticipation Liang Huaiyi almost forgot the juicy piece of information he had just received. “My son will accompany his teacher”, that was what Yue Qingyuan had said.
He had not known that the famed Xuan Su sword had fathered a child. Liang Huaiyi wondered who the boy’s mother was.
Seeing Shen Qingqiu in person was almost disappointing. The man had a sort of sharp, refined beauty but he lacked allure, stiff as a board and his face stuck in the expression of disgust, as if he had smelled something vile. His greeting was curt, bordering on rude, and Liang Huaiyi could immediately see where the reviews of his unpalatable personality came from.
He glanced at Yue Qingyuan and saw the longing in his eyes.
That answered another question he had. It seemed that the Sect Leader was the type to get going from the looks of contempt. Liang Huaiyi knew people like that, though he didn’t share their fascination.
The boy was much more to his taste. His mother had to be a rare beauty, while his demeanour was as pleasant and easy-natured as his father’s. If Yue Yao were older and didn’t have such a troublesome parentage, Liang Huaiyi would attempt a seduction. He rarely went for men, but this was a prize worth pursuing.
The first notes rang through the air, master and disciple playing in perfect synchrony. Heavenly, that was the only word to describe it. As he got lost in the music, Liang Huaiyi’s eyes slid over Shen Qingqiu again and he froze. Perhaps he was too hasty in his judgement.
Like a flower in the morning light, Shen Qingqiu slowly opened his petals: his shoulders relaxing and his face slackening. While the melody turned challenging, the man gave his disciple an approving half-smile, which made Liang Huaiyi’s heart flutter.
He wondered whether Shen Qingqiu would be the same in bed: stern at first and then slowly opening, turning pliant and gentle…
Suddenly Liang Huaiyi got a chill up his spine.
Last time he felt something like that he was almost assassinated.
He looked around the room and for a moment his eyes met Yue Qingyuan’s. There was a promise of death in there.
Liang Huaiyi didn’t dare to look either at Shen Qingqiu or the boy for the rest of the performance. He knew better than to cross the sword of Xuan Su, that man became the Sect Leader of Cang Qiong not through diplomacy alone and they all knew it.
1 “Ying” in Wei Ying and Ning Yingying is similar (婴 yīng – infant), so it was enough to trigger Shen Jiu.return to text ↩
2 Shigu is a term of address that translates to Martial Aunt. It is a title used by disciples to refer to a female martial sister of their master. return to text ↩
3 Shizi is a term of address that translates to Martial Nephew. It is a title used by masters to refer to a male disciples of their martial siblings. return to text ↩