Work Text:
1
On a warm summer’s evening, Yue Qingyuan told Shen Qingqiu the truth about what had happened years ago, when he had failed to come back in time.
Maybe it would be more accurate to say that he wrote it. A letter, delivered at night like a forbidden love note. Yue Qingyuan’s hands shook the whole way over to Qing Jing Peak and he wasn't able to sleep after, opting instead for a cup of tea in front of the open window.
In the morning, Shen Qingqiu called for him. The disciple who delivered the message was white as a sheet and Yue Qingyuan took that as the warning it was meant to be.
When he arrived at Qing Jing’s bamboo house, Shen Qingqiu slammed open the door and started yelling even before he had pulled Yue Qingyuan into the house and kicked the door shut again.
He could deal with yelling, was the thing. What he couldn't deal with was how quiet and insistent Shen Qingqiu became after he had gotten his anger out. He asked questions and waited for Yue Qingyuan to stammer out an answer, no matter how long it took. Seeing how he had already revealed the whole thing in the letter, Yue Qingyuan figured he might as well tell him everything else he wanted to know.
Thinking about the caves, however, about the pain, the fear, and worst of all, the knowledge that he was letting Shen Jiu down with every minute he was imprisoned… It was hard. In the end, he was left sweaty and shaken and gasping for air, on the verge of a panic attack.
Across from him, Shen Qingqiu sat silent and still. Eventually, he said, “There is one thing I don't understand. You are an idiot, of course, but we both already knew that. Still, the fact that you didn't come back… in time, it wasn't entirely your fault. So why didn't you say anything earlier?”
“But it was my fault!” Yue Qingyuan gasped, desperately trying to keep breathing. “If I hadn't tried taking Xuan Su before I was ready, none of it would have happened!”
Shen Qingqiu scoffed. “Wouldn’t it? We both know how cruel masters are. Even if you hadn't fucked up, I'm sure the former sect leader would have found another reason to lock you up, just for the pleasure of seeing you suffer.”
Yue Qingyuan sat back, speechless. This was the first time Shen Qingqiu had made an excuse for him since they were children and he wasn't quite sure what to do with it.
“So, the gifts,” Shen Qingqiu continued, “were not to buy my silence?”
“No,” Yue Qingyuan said, only now realizing how they might have been interpreted. “No. When you–When we were children, you used to say that you wanted to be rich, one day. I know you already are, now, but I still…” He fell silent, mortified at how childish he sounded, even now.
Shen Qingqiu made a noise halfway between amusement and despair. “I see.” He took the teapot on the table and, for the first time since they had joined the sect, poured him a cup of tea.
His brows were pinched and his mouth unhappy but, for once, his anger seemed quiet. More like an aftershock rather than reopening a wound.
Yue Qingyuan dared to take it as a tentative success.
2
Honestly, Yue Qingyuan mused as he sat at his desk, steadily going through reports and lists, I should be happy.
He finally got what he had always wanted: he and Shen Jiu were living in comfort, together. And now, he had been forgiven as well. In a way, this was the first time they were truly together again. This was how it might have been, had he come back for Shen Jiu in time.
Shen Jiu stood and sat next to him at meetings now. He whispered his private thoughts behind his fan and invited himself over for tea to complain about the annoyances of the day. In these moments, Yue Qingyuan felt happiness warming him from the inside out.
So then, why wasn't he satisfied?
There was this strange itch inside of him, like something was missing. Yue Qingyuan had never been particularly greedy, not like Shen Jiu was. And yet, now of all times, he wanted more.
‘More’ was an undefined, strange thing. He tried to look at it from different angles and still couldn't quite make out its shape. What was it that he wanted? And should he even try to figure it out when having more was out of the question in the first place?
Still, the thought continued to nag him until he found himself standing in front of the bamboo house again, a gift in his hands and the evening sun behind him.
Shen Jiu opened the door quickly and looked at him and the gift with a put-upon expression that Yue Qingyuan knew hid confusion underneath.
Still, being stared at like that, having to wait on the doorstep to see if he'd be allowed in, made him feel like a lover coming to beg for forgiveness. Shen Jiu’s comment came to him again, the accusations that his gifts had an ulterior motive.
It was a bit ironic. For years and years, he had given gifts selflessly, just for the pleasure of doing it. It was only now that Shen Jiu had forgiven him that, for the first time, Yue Qingyuan felt that his gift wasn't completely selfless after all.
After a long moment, Shen Jiu let him in anyway and Yue Qingyuan lamented this newly won, unearned trust.
They settled at the table. This time, it was a young disciple who came to serve tea and fruits. Yue Qingyuan thought about it for a moment before recalling that his name must have been Ming, or something similar. He was an overly eager, anxious boy who quickly vanished again at Shen Jiu’s quelling look.
They silently drank tea for a while, the unopened box sitting next to Shen Jiu’s elbow on the table. Yue Qingyuan didn’t know why the sight was making him so nervous but, for some reason, every second it went unopened thrummed through his veins like the beat of war drums.
Finally, Shen Jiu set his cup aside, carefully untied the ribbon, and opened the box. The lid hid the contents from Yue Qingyuan’s eyes and he worried his lip between his teeth at Shen Jiu’s expressionless face and cold, calculating eyes. Elegant fingers lifted the delicate golden crown from the box and Shen Jiu considered it from up close.
The next moment, his mouth twisted slightly and he threw the crown against Yue Qingyuan’s chest. It bounced and fell into his lap with a muffled sound.
“It has a flaw on the side.”
Yue Qingyuan picked it up with numb fingers and looked at it closely. It took him a long moment to find it but eventually, he saw it: one of the little bird carvings on the side had a feather less than the corresponding bird on the other side. He tried to come up with something to say but his mind was blank, wiped clean with panic. Shen Jiu had never refused one of his gifts before.
Helplessly, he looked at Shen Jiu. His eyes still had that calculating glint, as if he was studying his reactions but when he seemed to realize that Yue Qingyuan was unable to speak, he relieved him of his turmoil. “Bring me a better one.”
Suddenly, Yue Qingyuan could breathe again. The coldness in his fingertips faded and something close to elation sparked instead.
He had gotten another chance. He hadn’t failed completely.
Even more than that, he thought as he left the bamboo house, holding the box with the flawed crown inside. Shen Jiu had asked him for something. He had never done that before, had never asked for anything besides Yue Qingyuan leaving him alone since they had met again. But now he wanted and had asked for something that wasn’t impossible to provide.
Purpose burst to life in his chest. For the first time, he couldn’t wait to get back to his rooms and start the search for a new gift.
3
From one day to the next, there was a stack of paper lying on his desk that had nothing to do with work but grew gradually taller. Every time he caught a break, he would lean over and go through the list of craftsmen his disciples had provided, look at the examples, and write orders. The longest scroll, neatly tucked beside the stack, was another list he was continuously scribbling ideas on for more gifts.
In all the years of being the sect leader, he hadn’t spent his allowance on anything but the necessities, except for the gifts that he had given to Shen Jiu. Back then, they had been unwanted and tossed aside as though they were trash. Now, Shen Jiu was asking him for something and Yue Qingyuan was obsessed with the urge to fulfill his wish.
He commissioned one of the highly respected artists that his disciples had discovered to make a completely new crown, fashioned specifically for Shen Qingqiu. Maybe it was a bad idea to prioritize quality over speediness, but he found himself wanting to gift perfection this time.
And so, he was back to waiting.
As the days passed, Shen Jiu started behaving strangely. Every time they met, coincidentally or at meetings, he looked at him warily and lingered after, as if he was waiting for something. As if Yue Qingyuan needed to be assessed anew. It didn’t take much to guess at the reason for the unusual behavior and the anticipation evident in the other man only heightened Yue Qingyuan’s own.
When he finally received the crown and sent the considerable payment in return, he walked over to Qing Jing Peak that same day.
Shen Jiu opened the door and his eyes widened slightly when he saw Yue Qingyuan standing there. His impatience was apparent in the way he didn’t make him wait before bidding him to enter, the way he fidgeted through the preparation of tea, his eyes carefully avoiding the box on the table.
When he was still a disciple, Yue Qingyuan had once seen young children on New Years, eagerly awaiting their parents’ gifts and the feast, their faces shining with anticipation. Back then, he hadn't understood their happiness. Now, a giddy, hopeful impatience filled his chest and he could barely keep himself from fidgeting as Shen Jiu sat down across from him and opened the box.
He picked up the crown and lifted it to his face. It was a paler gold than the last one and a true work of art. Delicate metal branches intertwined with each other, small red winter berries their only decoration. Shen Jiu inspected it closely while Yue Qingyuan’s heart beat so fast that he could feel it in his fingers.
Finally, he said: “It's acceptable.”
All the air left Yue Qingyuan’s lungs in a whoosh and elation filled him like sunlight. Shen Jiu was satisfied with his present. He had succeeded.
Later, he couldn't remember what they talked about for the rest of the visit. But, at the next peak lord meeting, Shen Jiu wore the crown and Yue Qingyuan couldn't stop smiling.
4
Yue Qingyuan’s disciples were the first to realize that something had changed. What they decided to do about it, apparently, was annoy him into an early grave.
“Shizun,” Li Rong greeted, suddenly popping out of some hallway and planting herself firmly in his way. “Where are you going?”
He raised an eyebrow. “To my office?”
He could see that she was up to something. Her face was too innocent. She only strengthened that suspicion by saying: “A group of traders came into town yesterday. Some other disciples and I want to go and see what they’re offering. Won’t Shizun come with us?”
“Maybe another time.”
Li Rong adopted her best pout. “Shizun would rather work than go out with us?”
He made a noncommittal noise and threw a longing glance past her to his office door.
“What if we get kidnapped, all out on our own, without Shizun to watch over us?”
He stopped and threw her a mildly exasperated look. “In that case, maybe I will fulfill Wei Hanlou’s long-time dream and name him head disciple instead.”
Li Rong grew very pale. “Shizun, you wouldn’t!”
“I might change my mind, provided I’m given enough peace and quiet to think about it.”
She let him pass without another word.
Two days later, his disciples launched the next attack.
“Maybe Shizun would like to come to the discussion evening we organized?”
Yue Qingyuan looked up from the sect’s financial records, hastily shoved over a letter to a seamstress two cities over. “Hm?”
Three of his younger disciples were holding out a formal invitation to him, their young faces looking at him hopefully.
If he was to be honest, Yue Qingyuan didn't want to go. He wanted to finish this letter to the seamstress about new robes for Shen Jiu and then rush through his remaining paperwork to see if the other man had some time to drink tea with him. Any time spent elsewhere was time spent away from Shen Jiu, and Yue Qingyuan was so tired of being without him.
He still took the invitation. “I'll consider it.”
The immediate happiness they exuded made him feel a little guilty. Maybe he had been neglecting his disciples. It wouldn't hurt to at least stop by for a little bit before going over to Qing Jing Peak.
He could withstand the obsessive pull in his chest for a little while longer, for the sake of his duties.
“I've been worried about you lately, Shizun.” Li Rong set the tray down on the side table and knelt to pour him tea.
“And why is that,” Yue Qingyuan asked mildly, finally looking up from his scroll.
“All you've been doing is working, working, working. You used to go outside, on walks and to watch the disciples train, or eat dinner with us.”
He watched her silently. How to explain that he had been lost for so long, that he was finally happy now. That this happiness seemed to eclipse all the mild joys that had made his life bearable before.
He didn't say anything, in the end, distracted by the figure that had appeared in his doorway.
“And there's more than that too, isn't there,” Li Rong continued. “All these letters we deliver, the packages and errands, they’re all things for Shen–”
Shen Jiu had silently crossed the room and came to a halt right behind her. Yue Qingyuan couldn’t help but smile as his shidi cleared his throat and Li Rong yelped and jumped so hard she almost fell over.
Shen Jiu raised an eyebrow and she quickly clambered up to bow to him. “Zhangmen Shixiong, your disciples seem to have too much time on their hands. Maybe they'd benefit from a few more chores.”
Li Rong shot a wide-eyed glance at Yue Qingyuan and blanched when she saw his unchanged smile. She quickly bowed a few more times to Shen Jiu. “This disciple has been neglecting her duties for too long, begging Shishu’s forgiveness.”
Before she could run out of the room, however, Shen Jiu’s hand shot out like a viper and grabbed her arm. “And, Shizhi,” he said pleasantly. She looked at him like a rabbit about to be swallowed. “There's no more need to worry. Rest assured that I'll be taking good care of your shizun.”
5
The second person to notice something had changed was Qi Qingqi, which didn’t surprise Yue Qingyuan. She was a sharp woman and she had a particular knack for interpersonal relationships.
It was the second to last peak lord meeting before the inter-sect conference, which meant it was high time to talk about what exactly they wanted to receive from the other sects, and what they could give. Negotiations at these conferences were always hard and fast and he preferred to have a battle plan ready.
The other peak lords slowly arrived, one after the other, while Yue Qingyuan reviewed the scrolls in front of him and sorted them in the order of topics he wanted to talk about.
Maybe it was something about the sound of his steps or the cadence of his breathing, but Yue Qingyuan had always known when Shen Jiu was close. So, shortly before the meeting was supposed to start, he raised his head and saw Shen Jiu enter the hall. And his breath caught.
The man was clad in the many-layered green silk robes that Yue Qingyuan had wrapped in simple parchment and left on his table. In his hair was the winter branch crown and, in his hands, he was holding the painted fan Yue Qingyuan had spontaneously bought him as they walked across the market.
Shen Jiu looked devastatingly beautiful and he knew it, going by the smug tilt of his mouth and the almost victorious satisfaction in his eyes. Yue Qingyuan felt faint with adoration and love and quickly ducked his head, staring hard at the writing before him, so no one would see the flush on his face. He was certain it was obvious anyway if someone bothered to look closely.
He wasn’t the only one who noticed Shen Jiu’s appearance. There was staring, and one or two comments. A compliment from Wei Qingwei. Yue Qingyuan approved. Shen Jiu deserved to hear how gorgeous he was.
He could barely concentrate for the rest of the meeting. He kept glancing at Shen Jiu again and again, who pretended he hadn’t been looking in return when his eyes quickly flicked away. It was hard to listen to the others’ speeches and Yue Qingyuan probably approved too many things he hadn’t paid enough attention to. Still, he tried his best to at least present a facade of competence.
Several hours later, the first peak lords started to look strained. Shang Qinghua kept rubbing his forehead and squinting at his notes and Yue Qingyuan knew it was time to finish up the meeting.
A sigh of relief went through the group and everyone rolled up and put their notes away to go home. Yue Qingyuan deliberately took his time packing up, idly wondering if Shen Jiu would stay and keep him company for the evening.
Instead, he was approached by Qi Qingqi. “Zhangmen-Shixiong, could I speak to you for a moment?”
He looked up at her. Her mouth was pinched into a thin line and her shoulders were tense. Yue Qingyuan internally sighed as he accepted that this couldn’t be handled with one or two sentences and led her into the adjoining tea room.
She denied all offers of tea or snacks.
“I do not intend to draw this out,” she said, and Yue Qingyuan breathed a sigh of relief. Qi Qingqi hesitated for a bit before continuing, “I have to admit, I worry for you, Shixiong. You are the sect leader of one of the largest sects in the jianghu and you’re good at it.”
“...Thank you.”
“Still, if I had to name one flaw of yours, I’d say that you’re perhaps a little too indulgent. You’re very patient and that can be good, but…” She hesitated for a second before concluding, “That is to say, many will want to take advantage of your kindness and generosity.”
The only excuse he had for why he didn’t immediately realize where this was going was that his brain was half-melted after all these hours of concentrating. As it was, he only stared at her blankly for a long moment.
Qi Qingqi raised an eyebrow. Then, she sighed and gave up on any kind of subtlety. “I’m aware that you have a fondness for Shen Qingqiu.” For some inexplicable reason, her face said. “It’s natural that not even a sect leader can be impartial at all times, but I hope you’ll still do your utmost to keep a cool head and consider everyone’s motivations carefully, including Shen Qingqiu’s.”
By now, even Yue Qingyuan had finally gotten a clue what she was talking about. “If you’re concerned about the sect’s funds, I assure you that any gifts have been paid from my own money.”
“I’m not worried about the sect, I know you wouldn’t do anything like that. No, I–” She fell silent, mulling over how to formulate her thoughts. “I suppose I’m afraid that you’ll get hurt.”
Yue Qingyuan almost laughed and only reigned himself in with great difficulty. He could not express how little he cared about getting hurt anymore. He had suffered and been broken and put together again wrong. Yue Qingyuan didn’t like pain, of course, but he didn’t mind it anymore either. He certainly didn’t fear it.
If Shen Jiu wanted to hurt him, he was more than welcome to. Yue Qingyuan would take anything he gave him.
“Don’t worry,” he said gently. “I will take care of myself.”
The third person to notice anything amiss was Liu Qingge, but he wouldn’t act until later.
6
“You’ve been overworking yourself.”
Yue Qingyuan looked up and, for a moment, his sight was blurry. Then, his eyes focused on Shen Jiu standing in the doorway to his office, his lovely face disgruntled behind his fan. He gave a smile, but it was a half-hearted effort at best. “I need to get this done before the next inter-sect meeting. I’m already behind on the preparations.”
Shen Jiu’s face smoothed out until he looked at him with cold, half-lidded eyes. An inexplicable shudder ran through Yue Qingyuan. “The other sects are always wanting things from you. Do this, do that. If you try to meet their expectations, you will work yourself into an early grave before they’re ever satisfied. You’re the sect leader of the most prominent and powerful sect in the jianghu, Qi-ge. If you wanted to, you could go on a year-long vacation and they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”
He shook his head. “There are certain expectations I need to meet as sect leader, or I’ll lose credibility.”
“Then tell me,” Shen Jiu said and came closer until he was standing before him. “Why is it that I have seen a group of your disciples outside in the hallways standing around and slacking off, while you work day and night in here?”
“They deserve some off-time too–”
Before he could finish the sentence, Shen Jiu leaned down, pulled the brush out of his hand, and threw it down on the table. Yue Qingyuan stared blankly at where it left ink splashes all over the letter he had just been writing. He hadn’t even had a chance to come up with a response before his breath was knocked out of him.
Shen Jiu forcefully pulled him off the pillow he had been sitting on and pushed him down to lie on the floor. The next second, he swung his leg over Yue Qingyuan’s torso and sat down on his belly to stare down at him imperiously.
His knees knocked against the underside of the low table. He struggled to catch his breath with the weight on his belly and the back of his head smarted where it had met the wooden floor. Still, he could feel his face getting hot as he processed the position they were in and then even hotter as he looked up and saw Shen Jiu’s fierce, angry face.
“I think,” Shen Jiu said, and deliberately laid his fan down on the ground, to Yue Qingyuan’s left, “that you have forgotten your purpose.”
“My purpose?” Yue Qingyuan asked, and his voice came out raspy and breathless.
His hands now free, Shen Jiu reached down and wrapped his left hand around Yue Qingyuan’s throat. Not enough to cut off his air, but only just. “Why did you come to Cang Qiong in the first place?”
He briefly closed his eyes before forcing them open again. His face was still hot. “To become someone with the means to provide for and save you.” It was excruciatingly painful to lay his vulnerabilities bare like that, but Shen Jiu already knew this and he would be angry if Yue Qingyuan didn’t say it. Or worse, sad.
Shen Jiu’s expression didn’t change but his hand tightened a little more. “And why did you run after me like a lost dog for years after finding me again? Why did you tell me the truth about what happened?”
“Because…” Yue Qingyuan fell silent, ashamed and afraid, and paralyzed with it. He turned his face to the side as much as he could and grimaced.
Shen Jiu violently pulled his face back towards him and spat, “Say it.”
It wasn’t much more than a whisper but, in the end, he managed to say it. Haltingly, quietly, but there. “Because I love you.”
The hand around his throat loosened and Shen Jiu’s face smoothened out. “You have forgotten your duties.” Yue Qingyuan threw him a bleary, confused look and Shen Jiu glared down at him. “If everything you did was for me, why have you spent the last week shutting yourself off to do paperwork without bothering to come see me? Shouldn’t I be your first priority? Or were you lying to me?”
At that, Yue Qingyuan surged up in denial. “No, no, I wasn’t, I didn’t want to stay away, but–”
Shen Jiu raised his right hand and slapped him hard across the cheek. His face snapped to the side and he stared blankly at the floor, trying to process the stinging pain.
“‘But’. It can’t matter that much if you care more about inconveniencing your disciples than coming to see me.”
Yue Qingyuan took a moment to digest that. It wasn’t true, he did care more about Shen Jiu than his work. But, maybe, there had been some things he had worked on, the last few days, that a disciple could have theoretically managed as well.
His silence was answer enough and Shen Jiu raised his hand again. Quickly, Yue Qingyuan spoke. “I wasn’t thinking. I just worked through everything on my desk. You’re right that I could have delegated some of it, b–” He stopped himself before the ‘but’ could slip out, remembering Shen Jiu’s reaction to the last one. “I didn’t think you cared that much about seeing me.” And that was the shameful truth, wasn’t it?
Shen Jiu’s eyes widened in rage and his hand spasmed. For a moment, Yue Qingyuan truly couldn’t breathe and he ruthlessly suppressed the urge to struggle.
“You didn’t think I would care that much?” he hissed. “You’re so stupid, just like always. Assuming things without asking, being so self-sacrificial with no reason.” His hand loosened just for a moment, long enough that Yue Qingyuan could take a breath, before quickly raising his other and giving him a second slap, right over where he had hit before. Yue Qingyuan gasped, and then his air was cut off again.
“I see I have been too lenient with you,” Shen Jiu said darkly. “If you can’t be trusted to make the right decisions, then I’ll simply have to make them for you.”
He abruptly released him and Yue Qingyuan coughed, trying desperately to get air into his lungs. “What–”
“You’ll come with me.” Shen Jiu stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk to roll up the scrolls and stack them into a little mountain. The letter at the very top was folded up and vanished into Shen Jiu’s sleeve. Yue Qingyuan could do nothing but watch helplessly.
A moment later, Shen Jiu was striding across the room and ripped open the door. “Hey, you there!” he yelled into the hallway. Yue Qingyuan heard a frightened yelp and regained the presence of mind to heal the bruise already forming on his cheek in order to not incriminate Shen Jiu.
“Get the head disciple!”
By the time Li Rong stepped into the room, Yue Qingyuan had gotten up from the floor and tidied himself back up. She came to a halt in front of them and shot Shen Jiu a confused glance before bowing to them. “Shizun called for me?”
Shen Jiu took a few steps until he stood directly in front of Yue Qingyuan, blocking her view. He waited until she rose from her bow before dropping the stack of scrolls into her arms.
“Do you know what this is?”
Over Shen Jiu’s shoulder, Yue Qingyuan could see her mouth opening in confusion. She shook her head wordlessly.
“This is your work for the next two weeks. Order other disciples to help you if you must, but I will be back in two weeks to look them over, and I expect to see flawless results, do you understand me?”
She threw a wide-eyed look at Yue Qingyuan and he felt pity in his heart. “Shidi, I–”
“The sect leader will be unavailable until then,” Shen Jiu interrupted him. “If you have questions, you can either use your brain or, if that is too much to ask for, ask the senior disciples.”
Yue Qingyuan sighed and accepted his fate. “Do what he said, Li Rong. Consider this your first challenge as head disciple. And don’t be afraid to ask for help or advice.”
At that, Li Rong seemed to slowly pull herself together and nodded with a determined expression and squared shoulders. “Yes, Shizun, you can count on me!”
He stepped forward, around Shen Jiu, and automatically lifted his hand to pat her shoulder. Seeing Shen Jiu’s quelling look, however, he quickly retracted his hand. “I’m sure you’ll do well.”
Shen Jiu allowed him to pack a bag and give his hall masters and senior disciples instructions before they left. Then, they walked over to Qing Jing Peak, on foot and silent.
Without further ado, Yue Qingyuan was moved into the bamboo house on the very same day. For two weeks, theoretically. That was what he had told his disciples. He would be more confident in that estimate if Shen Jiu had, at any point, confirmed it to him.
As it was, the charged silence between them left him with doubts.
Nothing in that house was prepared for him. It was obvious that it was meant for only one person to live in and that this person had made no effort to accommodate another one. It must have been a spontaneous decision then, Yue Qingquan thought as he let his bag drop to the floor next to the door.
“What will I do while I’m here?”
Shen Jiu, who had already walked further into the room, whirled around. “Why? Already bored?” He silently waited out the bristling anger until Shen Jiu’s face smoothed out again and he said, “Well, what do you usually do to relax?”
Yue Qingyuan opened his mouth, ready to provide an answer, only to find that he didn’t have one. What did he usually do to relax? In truth, he couldn’t remember the last time he had consciously tried to relax. The only thing he regularly did just for his own pleasure was finding gifts for Shen Jiu, and wasn’t that a pathetic thought?
He ended up not saying anything at all and Shen Jiu’s face twisted into something that was almost pity, but mostly disdain. “You need someone to take care of you so badly.”
With that, he turned around and swanned off into the kitchen. Yue Qingyuan was left behind, presumably to make himself comfortable, but his heart was beating fast and his head was filled with the echoes of ‘You need someone to take care of you.’
Was Shen Jiu offering, then?
7
The shackle was cold when it closed around his ankle. Shen Jiu turned the little key in the lock and tucked it into his sleeve as he stood.
He looked down at where Yue Qingyuan sat on the floor and the chain connecting him to the bed with dark, satisfied eyes. Then, he held out his hand. “Now, give me Xuan Su.”
Yue Qingyuan looked up at him with wide eyes and Shen Jiu clicked his tongue. “Obviously, you can't be trusted to take good care of yourself. If I am to take responsibility for you, it'll be for all of you.”
With that, any lingering reluctance vanished. He pulled Xuan Su from where he kept it in the qiankun bag sewn into his robes and placed it into the waiting hand.
Shen Jiu looked at it for a long moment. “You know, I think you'd be exactly the kind of self-sacrificial idiot to throw your life away in a reckless, heroic moment.”
Yue Qingyuan wanted to deny it but he abruptly remembered all the times he had thought about a scenario exactly like that and closed his mouth with a click. Shen Jiu gave him a disgusted, knowing look. “Don't worry, you won't get another chance to.”
He pocketed Xuan Su and Yue Qingyuan felt strangely naked, all of a sudden. The sword had been with him for so many years now, every hour of every day, and now Shen Jiu took it away so easily. Chained up and made vulnerable. There was something almost pleasurable underneath all the anxiety.
He didn't seem to be the only one who noticed the sudden tension. Shen Jiu was back to staring, uncharacteristically silent.
Suddenly, his hand shot out and grabbed Yue Qingyuan’s hair tightly, close to his scalp. He tilted his head back, pulling until it hurt, and swooped down to press his mouth hard against Yue Qingyuan’s.
His breath hitched and pain bloomed where Shen Jiu’s teeth smashed into his lips. It took him a long moment to realize that this was a kiss. When he did, he stopped breathing completely.
After a moment, Shen Jiu drew back with a blank face and turned away before fishing a cloth out of his pocket and wiping his mouth. Dread filled Yue Qingyuan’s stomach.
“You know you don't have to–”
Shen Jiu looked back at him, the cloth still pressed to his lips, and something like feral amusement appeared in his eyes. “Of course I know I don't have to. Look at you. I don't have to do anything when it comes to you.”
Which meant he had done it because he wanted to. Yue Qingyuan hadn’t dared hope.
For his part, Shen Jiu seemed to be quite done talking. He bent down to grab the chain binding Yue Qingyuan to the bed and gave it a good shake.
“Now be good and wait here until I return. I have some business to see to.”
8
Time passed, and Shen Jiu didn't explain himself further. How long was he intending to keep him like this? And more importantly, why? For better or worse, Shen Jiu’s motivations were a mystery to him.
Yue Qingyuan didn't mind, per se. It was a little strange to have nothing to do, but it wasn't uncomfortable to be kept like this. He was surrounded by Shen Jiu’s things and smell and he could read if he wanted to.
Most of the time, though, all he did was sit and think. He didn't get bored. After a few days, it occurred to him that he might have been exhausted.
He still felt like he was waiting. Eventually, someone would wonder where he was and come look. This strange situation was bound to come to an end and he felt a vague dread at the thought.
The days passed in something resembling domesticity. He would join Shen Jiu for his meals and tea and welcome him back in the evening. Much of their time together was spent in silence.
Yue Qingyuan got the impression that Shen Jiu wasn't quite sure what to do with him, either.
Time passed slowly in this strange limbo of uncertainty and comfort, but it did pass. Until one day, there was frantic knocking at the door of the bamboo house.
Yue Qingyuan was sitting in the bedroom, Shen Jiu a few steps away from him at the table, reading a book. They looked up at the sound and Shen Jiu adopted the scowl he usually reserved for visitors. Before he could tell the person to enter, the front door opened and they heard quick footsteps and heavy breathing through the door separating the bedroom from the living room. Shen Jiu quickly rose, body tense and hand on the qiankun pocket he stored Xiu Ya in.
A second later, they heard Ming Fan’s loud, distressed voice. “Shishu, you can't be in here! Shizun! Shizun, Liu Shishu has come to see you!”
Liu Qingge’s voice rose, fast and angry as he talked to Ming Fan. Yue Qingyuan caught snippets like “-tell me where he-” and “-your shizun-”.
It was the moment he had been dreading.
He rose onto his knees and grabbed Shen Jiu’s sleeve before he could storm into the living room. “Wait, I–” He hesitated, but eventually tightened his grip and met Shen Jiu’s eyes. “If you release me, I can go out there and convince him that everything's fine. I'll calm him down, tell him that I'm here to cultivate in peace. I can handle it.”
For a moment, Shen Jiu stared at him with a blank face. Then, unexpectedly, his mouth twisted into something ugly and he swiftly swooped down, grabbed Yue Qingyuan’s jaw hard enough to hurt and pushed him back down to the floor.
He fell with him, on top of him, his hands still tightly grabbing his face and shoulder, and snarled. “You won't go anywhere. You will stay exactly here and not move a fucking finger.” He gave a quiet, hard laugh. “I don't think you realize your position. You're doing nothing without my say-so. You'll sit here and look pretty and that's it, do you understand?”
When he didn't respond, breathless and wide-eyed, Shen Jiu got closer until his breath puffed against his cheeks. “Do you understand me?”
By now, there was a loud knocking on the bedroom door and Ming Fan’s voice came through the wood. “Shizun? Shizun, Liu Shishu wants to see you, please–”
“Yes,” Yue Qingyuan rasped.
Before his eyes, Shen Jiu slowly put himself back together until there was almost no sign of the feral thing from a few seconds ago. He got up and left Yue Qingyuan lying on the floor.
“I will handle this. Just stay here and wait for me.”
The door opened and closed behind Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge’s anger focused on him instead, his loud words interspersed with Shen Jiu’s terse, quieter ones.
Yue Qingyuan rose from the floor and settled onto his knees. He couldn’t stop his hands from balling into fists on top of his thighs. Shen Jiu shouldn’t have to do this for him, go out and take Liu Qingge’s anger just so that Yue Qingyuan would remain unbothered. He felt the burden he had placed on the other man keenly.
He needed to get into the living room and diffuse the situation. He could help, he needed to help. If it escalated and came to a fight…
Yue Qingyuan listened carefully, ready to step in if it seemed like Shen Jiu needed him. The thought of exposing the chain connecting him to the bed to Liu Qingge made something hot and ashamed burn in him, but his feelings didn’t matter. He would come up with an explanation for that if he had to.
But as the seconds passed, instead of getting louder, Liu Qingge’s voice became quieter. It meant that Yue Qingyuan couldn’t hear what they were saying anymore, even if he tried, but their tones still carried over to him. Against all expectations, Liu Qingge was calming down.
Surprise settled in his chest and his hands unclenched a little. He listened to Shen Jiu’s voice, slow and drawling and thinly veiled condescension underneath all of it. It was the tone he usually took with Liu Qingge which meant that it was fine.
Everything was fine.
Yue Qingyuan slowly relaxed where he sat and his surprise turned to disbelief. It was fine, just like that? He had been fearing this moment for so long, he felt that it couldn’t be over so easily. Where was the dreaded confrontation, the shame, the anger?
He could just stay here?
He continued listening to the murmur of his voices and, slowly, a new feeling made itself known to him, driving all the uncertainty and disbelief away. He didn’t recognize it at first, only that it felt warm and small.
Then, it came to him. He had felt like that before, when he had still been very young, crammed into a nook in the wall together with Shen Jiu while what they had been sure were slave traders walked past their hiding spot. There had been a moment, then, when he had realized that they wouldn’t be found, that they were safely hidden and secure. Something like giddiness had come over him and he’d grabbed little, bony Xiao Jiu in his arms tighter and hidden a grin in his dirty hair.
Now, he gripped his own arms tightly in what almost counted as a hug and his mouth twitched up into a smile. Safe, safe.
He was safe here.
9
Yue Qingyuan carefully took the teapot and poured two cups of jasmine tea under Shen Jiu’s sharp eyes.
It still filled him with an almost guilty pleasure to be allowed to pour tea for him in the man’s own house. Like family, something in him whispered. Out loud, he said: “How was your day?”
Truthfully, he knew Shen Jiu didn’t like to talk about his day. Still, he asked, out of a lack of anything better to say and desperate for conversation.
As expected, Shen Jiu’s face twisted into a grimace. “Full of idiots. I don’t know why I even bother.”
Why do you bother, Yue Qingyuan wanted to ask, but he already knew the answer. It was the same reason why, when he himself thought about leaving, he felt an almost childish fear twisting his stomach. He had survived on the streets for so long that it shouldn’t be hard to leave the comfort of the sect. And yet… Maybe doing nothing but surviving for so long didn’t make you stronger. Maybe it only made you more fragile, until you held on to any sign of comfort and stability with all your strength, even if it killed you.
“What are you thinking about?” Shen Jiu asked, low and suspicious.
Yue Qingyuan ducked his head. “Who deserved your scorn today? Only the students or the hall masters too?”
Shen Jiu incrementally relaxed again. “All of them. The hall masters are incompetent, too lax with the students, and more interested in basking in their own glory than in teaching efficiently. As for the students, you can forget about them completely. Nothing but a bunch of hormone-driven, arrogant idiots.”
“Shen Jiu!” Yue Qingyuan breathed a scandalized, amused laugh. “I’m sure they’re not that bad.”
Instead of arguing as expected, Shen Jiu paused, his teacup halfway up to his mouth. “You keep calling me that.”
It took Yue Qingyuan a moment to realize what he meant. But then–ah, yes. He had started calling him Shen Jiu only recently, hadn’t he? It had only ever been Shen Qingqiu before and Shidi, sometimes. A flash of worry went through him. Was it too informal? Did he prefer Shen Qingqiu? “Would you like me to go back to calling you Shen Qingqiu?”
Shen Jiu’s thumb rubbed over the rim of his cup as he pondered the question. “No,” he said eventually.
Abruptly, Yue Qingyuan’s thoughts veered in the opposite direction. Something less formal, then? “Do you want me to–”
“No,” Shen Jiu said again, as if he knew what he was thinking. “It’s been a long time since I was Xiao Jiu and I have no desire to return to that.”
Yue Qingyuan closed his mouth. It turned out Shen Jiu did know what he was thinking. He buried the slight disappointment he felt with the ease of long practice. Sometimes, he would give a lot to return to being Xiao Jiu and Yue Qi, but the other man didn’t need to know that.
“I want it to be something completely different,” Shen Jiu said. “Not Shen Qingqiu, not Xiao Jiu. Not quite Shen Jiu, either.” Yue Qingyuan waited patiently as he took a slow sip of tea before continuing. “Did you know, when we were children, there was this one stall owner who thought we were brothers?”
He found himself nailed to the spot with the force of Shen Jiu’s stare and couldn’t get anything out but a low, confused sound.
“We still looked rather similar back then. Not to mention that we always hung around each other. I bet he was not the only one who thought we were related.” Something strange had entered Shen Jiu’s dark eyes. It reminded Yue Qingyuan of some masters’ expressions when their slaves bowed before them and begged for forgiveness. A kind of cruel satisfaction.
“He gave me two mantou once, out of the goodness of his heart, and said ‘for you and your brother’. I needed a second to understand that he meant you. But then, I just let him believe it. I even liked it. It pleased me, that people thought we were brothers, that I had a claim on you that none of the others had.”
Yue Qingyuan couldn’t move. He hadn’t expected this violent resurgence of their past. He felt unprepared, frozen on the spot.
However, Shen Jiu didn’t seem inclined to show him mercy today.
“You know, it’s not even that unlikely,” he said and rotated the cup on the table. “We were from the same part of the city. Who says that the same man couldn’t have fucked two different whores and gotten both of them pregnant? Or even the same whore twice? Who knows how many of us were related?” He looked up at Yue Qingyuan with half-lidded eyes. “We could very well be brothers.”
Yue Qingyuan grabbed the table with more force than he had meant to and the cups shook for a second. “Why are you telling me this?”
Shen Jiu tsk’ed. “Didn’t you ask me what name I would prefer?” He got up in a smooth, sinuous movement and walked around the table until he came to a halt before him. Unexpectedly, impossibly, Shen Jiu stepped over Yue Qingyuan’s legs and sat down astride his thighs, facing him.
Like this, Yue Qingyuan had to look up at him and he did so with wide eyes, his heart in his throat. He felt like the rug was being pulled out from underneath his feet and the feeling only intensified when Shen Jiu reached out to grab his chin.
“Now,” he drawled, “what should you call me?”
Yue Qingyuan couldn’t form a single word. It was like his throat was constricted. He could feel his face getting red.
At his silence, Shen Jiu snarled and his grip got tighter until his nails were close to piercing skin. “What do you call your brother?”
“Di-” was what came out, the first thing to make it past the suffocating tightness. “Didi?” It was a question more than anything else, but Shen Jiu’s eyes curved up into pleased crescent moons.
“Better. What else?”
His mind only gradually started working again, still made slow by panic and flustered desire. “...Jiu-di?” Shen Jiu made a considering, doubtful noise and Yue Qingyuan quickly added: “A-Jiu?”
His hand loosened its grip minimally. “A-Jiu… say it again.”
“A-Jiu,” he choked, and Shen Jiu leaned down to press their lips together.
Their second kiss wasn’t less painful than their first one but this time, Yue Qingyuan was better prepared. He sucked in the air that had, just a moment ago, been in Shen Jiu’s lungs and made a low noise at the teeth biting his bottom lip.
“Again,” Shen Jiu breathed against his mouth.
Yue Qingyuan answered breathlessly: “Didi. A-Jiu.”
If there had been any other words, they were muffled when Shen Jiu kissed him again.
10
The sound of the front door banging against the wall alerted Yue Qingyuan to the fact that it was not a good day. He had been sitting with his back against the bed and reading, but now, he set his book aside, carefully marking his stopping point, and turned to the door just as it flew open.
Shen Jiu stormed in, his face twisted into a scowl. He was already pulling off his outer robe as he walked towards him and let it fall to the floor. As soon as he reached the bed, he fell on it in an undignified slump.
“A-Jiu,” Yue Qingyuan scolded gently and took one of the man’s ankles into his hands. “Shoes inside the house?”
Faster than he could react in such an unguarded moment, Shen Jiu set one of his boot-clad feet against his chest and pushed him over, onto his back. As he fell, Shen Jiu’s foot sank down with him, until his heel was resting against Yue Qingyuan’s belly.
Yue Qingyuan blinked up at him in confusion.
“If you don’t like me wearing shoes inside the house,” Shen Jiu said, “then take them off.”
Slowly, he sat up, wondering if he would be pushed down again. But Shen Jiu’s foot only rested limply in his lap, so he took it into his hands again and carefully started to unlace the boot. “Was it a bad day, Didi?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Shen Jiu sniffed haughtily and Yue Qingyuan accepted it with a hum.
Instead of continuing the questioning, he slid the unlaced boot off Shen Jiu’s foot and squeezed his ankle before setting the foot down on his lap and starting to unlace the other boot.
He could hear Shen Jiu breathing above him. As time went on, the breaths became just a little bit slower. Less agitated, maybe. Yue Qingyuan took off the second boot and set it aside. This time, he kept the foot lifted and took the sock off too.
Shen Jiu’s bare toes wiggled in the air like a child’s and Yue Qingyuan ducked his head so the man couldn’t see how the corners of his mouth twitched.
A second later, Shen Jiu freed his bare foot from his hold and kicked Yue Qingyuan’s cheek. His face snapped to the side, his cheekbone stinging.
He remained like that for a long moment, until a quiet laugh came from the bed. “Your face looks so stupid,” Shen Jiu said in a tone that reminded Yue Qingyuan of nothing so much as a boy in rags with a mean-spirited grin on his face. He couldn’t help but smile himself, then.
Shen Jiu let him pull off the other sock after that. And, after thinking for a moment, Yue Qingyuan reached over to grab the oil that Shen Jiu used to treat his hair with from the nightstand. He ignored the annoyed huff and poured a small amount on his palm before closing the bottle and setting it aside again.
He spread the oil evenly over both feet before starting to rub it into the sole of the left foot with circling movements. Shen Jiu sighed and leaned back slightly, his head falling against his shoulder.
Silence hung between them for long minutes while Yue Qingyuan massaged his feet. Eventually, he quietly said: “We could leave, you know?”
Shen Jiu hummed questioningly.
“If you don’t like it here. We could leave together. Go somewhere else. There’s nothing stopping us, we could make a living anywhere now.”
More silence, even longer this time. Yue Qingyuan had switched to the other foot before Shen Jiu answered.
“Maybe, one day,” he said quietly. “Not yet.”
They lapsed into silence again until Yue Qingyuan finished rubbing the oil into both feet. Shen Jiu didn’t get up immediately after but kept sitting on the bed for another minute.
“Maybe in the future,” he said eventually, and with that, the conversation was over. For now.
11
After two weeks, the time came for Shen Jiu to check what Yue Qingyuan’s disciples had made of his work.
He was visibly unhappy to leave and even unhappier when he got back. That was how Yue Qingyuan knew that his disciples had done a good job. Still, he felt the uncertainty as well. The upcoming peak lord meeting was their self-imposed limit. Shen Jiu would have to let him go then, at the very latest.
Would they go back to how they had been before, Yue Qingyuan wondered. The slow dread building in his chest told him that he didn’t want that.
He had been enjoying the intimacy between them. For the first time, the quiet yearning that had been his steady companion for years had faded. He was, by some definition of the word, happy.
There was a certain reassurance, however, in seeing Shen Jiu similarly agitated. What they had mattered to the other man, or he wouldn’t grow so increasingly moody, or watch Yue Qingyuan as if he would vanish at any moment, or demand more and more attention.
He did his best to reassure Shen Jiu, both verbally and with his actions when words failed him. Still, the days ran into each other until the peak lord meeting was only one day away.
That day, Shen Jiu kept chewing on air, the way he did when he was working up to something. Yue Qingyuan tried to ask about it exactly one time and gave up when the only response was a venomous remark and a ripped scroll.
It took Shen Jiu until the late evening, shortly before they went to bed, to work up his courage. He took a box out of the wardrobe and set it on the bed before stepping back.
Yue Qingyuan walked over and opened it. There were five items in it, smooth metal rings of varying size and breadth. He turned around and gave Shen Jiu a questioning look.
He was met with a glare. “You can just say that you don’t want them. Spare us all the words and I’ll throw them away. You don’t–”
“A-Jiu,” Yue Qingyuan interrupted his tirade. “What are these?”
Shen Jiu’s shoulders visibly slumped. “How can you be so dumb, isn’t it obvious? These are… They are–” And, to Yue Qingyuan’s surprise and secret pleasure, his ears turned slightly red. Then, he pinched his lips and didn’t say anything more.
Yue Qingyuan turned back around and gave the objects another look. With the context of Shen Jiu’s embarrassment, he was starting to get an idea. “These are shackles?”
A vaguely affirming noise came from the side.
For a long moment, Yue Qingyuan thought of what it meant to be a slave. He thought of the dirt, of a rope around his neck, and the rough floor under his knees. Of abject misery. Then, he decided that these shackles weren’t anything like that. For one, no master of his would ever have spent so much money on him.
“I’m assuming these two are for my wrists,” he said and picked up one of the two smallest shackles. Then, he reached for the second pair, a little wider than the first. “For my ankles?”
Shen Jiu made a choked-off sound. Yue Qingyuan took it as agreement. “But then, what’s this for?” He held up the single, widest circle.
“Neck,” Shen Jiu said, scowling hard enough that Yue Qingyuan had to suppress a smile.
“They don’t seem to have an opening,” he mused. “How would I get it over my head?” As for the wrist shackles, he supposed they might fit over his hands if his thumbs were dislocated. Still, as much as Shen Jiu liked to hurt him, Yue Qingyuan somehow doubted that this was what he had planned.
At his question, Shen Jiu finally stepped closer and took the circle out of his hand. He ran a finger over the smooth metal, qi pulsing in the air, and the shackle smoothly opened, falling apart into two half-circles. For the first time, Yue Qingyuan realized just how much Shen Jiu must have spent on these.
“They’re keyed to my qi signature,” Shen Jiu explained. “They open and close only for me. They have a few other functions too. I can tell your general location and I could–” He stopped suddenly and looked oddly guilty. It was a strange expression that didn’t fit his face well.
Yue Qingyuan reached up and wrapped his warm hand around Shen Jiu’s cold one. “And you could…?” he prompted gently.
“They could be a connection between us,” Shen Jiu admitted. “They would tap directly into your spiritual veins. And they’re connected to mine. If I wanted to, I could make you feel pain or pleasure. I could make you fall unconscious or…”
“Or kill me?”
“Yes.”
There was silence, then, heavy with an unspoken truth.
These kinds of devices all had the same flaw. Any connection between two spiritual systems was a two-way street. Someone who had the pertinent knowledge could manipulate the connection to turn the flow of qi around to control the other person in turn. And Shen Jiu knew that Yue Qingyuan had that knowledge.
If Shen Jiu could kill Yue Qingyuan, then Yue Qingyuan could kill him.
“Would you put them on me?” he asked. Shen Jiu considered the open circle in his hands before setting it back down into the box and taking out one of the wrist shackles instead. He opened and laid the two half circles around Yue Qingyuan’s left wrist. Then, he fused them together again, the cool metal fitting snugly against his skin.
Another shackle for his right wrist. One for each ankle. Here, Shen Jiu crouched down before him and lifted the hem of his pants before attaching the shackles. And finally, he rose and picked up the last shackle. The circle fused around his throat, a solid and distracting weight.
All five shackles attached, Shen Jiu stepped back to look at him.
Yue Qingyuan flexed his fingers. How strange, to feel security in such a thing. “I will need to wear high collars to hide this,” he said.
Shen Jiu’s eyebrows furrowed. He reached out and took Yue Qingyuan’s wrist into his hand to rub his thumb hard against the shackle. “You’ll wear them tomorrow, for the meeting.”
Yue Qingyuan smiled mildly. “Of course. After all, I can’t take them off.”
At that, Shen Jiu’s mouth twitched up into what was almost a smile. “No, you can’t.”
They went to bed after that, with no more words left between them. They didn’t touch, a gap left between them, but the shackles weighed heavily against Yue Qingyuan’s limbs and neck. Next to him, Shen Jiu was breathing steadily.
He fell asleep easily, his smile hidden in the crook of his arm.