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Shen Qingqiu was prone to qi deviations, this was no secret and was even known to other sects; however, this qi deviation was distinguished from the others by a severe fever for three days, which was unwilling to go away with rare herbs, treatment, or attempts to calm the raging restless qi, no matter how hard one of the best doctors of the modern era tried. Mu Qingfang tells his sect leader to be prepared for the inevitable, but Yue Qingyuan isn't ready to accept such a thing, staying at someone else's bedside day and night, fearing and wishing he could hold someone else's hand in his own like he did years ago (he wouldn't have been allowed to, he knows that). Until, in an instant, it all stopped.
Shen Qingqiu woke up, however, he didn't get up or even react, seemingly for a couple minutes he didn't even breathe, until he coughed heavily and gulped for air with his mouth, holding his hand behind his chest, breathing loudly and looking confused. If Yue Qingyuan didn't know, he would have thought that for some moments, his shidi might have forgotten that he needed to breathe and wondered about it. But instead, he ran out after Mu Qingfang.
Strangely enough, Shen Qingqiu's body was within normal limits, his qi had calmed down, even seemed to have come to an equilibrium comparable to a water surface, but his mind... unfortunately for them, the first thing Shen Qingqiu answered them, looking at them with sharp analyzing green eyes, was:
"Who are you?"
Their shizun had... changed.
It's hard to tell if for better or worse; in some ways the man has remained unchanged, like reading scrolls and books (albeit in some frightening numbers when the stacks exceed human height), and in some ways he is barely recognizable, like the indifference in his gaze instead of the underlying anger. Their shizun is still cold, still a lofty immortal they can only occasionally look at from afar, and probably still always displeased with them in some way, but... now the shizun is talking about it.
Shizun tells them what their mistakes are, shizun makes them look for their mistakes, shizun makes them explain the reasons why they did things the way they did, shizun makes them tell him their entire thought process and then shatters it with impracticality and illogic, but without the venom and sharpness of before. Shizun also gives them punishments, but now also checks that they've reformed. And strangely enough, their shizun's gaze has only gotten heavier and darker than before, which is nothing short of frightening.
For this reason, for example, bullying others (Luo Binghe; it was always just Luo Binghe) was forbidden.
Luo Binghe feels the shizun's hand on his head and can hardly hold back his tears; he is waiting for a punishment that he should not receive, he thinks he has received happiness for his misfortunes, and he fears that more misfortunes will follow, that all his good fortune has been used up for a century to come.
Shizun asks him in a familiar voice, but now more humble, softer, more suitable for consolation: why are you crying, child?
Luo Binghe swallows his tears, he chokes on his sobs, holding the new improvement manual in his calloused hands from his housework, not looking up, not daring or afraid; he thanks, he can only thank.
Shizun repeats his question — now shizun asks, asks and asks, never leaving any reticence when things concern him and the other disciples. Shizun calls them careless children, and says they should be well looked after. Luo Binghe answers him; he is afraid: of pain, of the truth, or that all good things will just disappear — or maybe all at once.
"Sometimes", the shizun says in a quieter voice, Luo Binghe still looking down at his lap, still holding onto the guidance of his hands, trying to breathe evenly, acutely aware of the soft cushion for his knees and smelling the smell of the shizun's bamboo hut mixed with the unnatural smell of salt (Luo Binghe grew up near a river, but he knows what the ocean smells like), "bad things happen, because they happen. Sometimes people who have not been content with life, who have not been happy with what they have been blessed with, who have not been gifted with goodness from at least someone or something in their path, may take away or steal happiness from someone else. They may wonder: 'how can they be happy if I can't?' And such people do evil", his shizun's voice breaks indefinitely but familiarly towards anger, it's the voice Luo Binghe is used to; it's the way he's heard shizun always, and his body freezes, looking fearfully at his feet, waiting and anticipating the blow he doesn't get. Instead, the hand on his head becomes more affectionate and gentle, slower and more careful. "Sometimes good things happen when you don't expect them too. For no reason. Without anything. In a place and moment you never expect it from. From people who might have hurt you", Luo Binghe's heart sinks as her hand leaves his hair. "And this master has no excuse for what happened", Luo Binghe throws his head up, ready to refute those words, but stumbles back into the heavy gaze of green eyes that he can't call anything other than dead. "Disciple Luo has every right to hate this master; it's how you feel, and there's no need to change that just because this master started acting differently. There was no trial or ulterior motive here. This is an accident that Luo's disciple must learn to live with".
Luo Binghe continues to cry, unable to realize the lesson he is learning.
On rare nights, dark and wintry, cold and windy, Shen Qingqiu sits in front of a small pond on Qing Jing; tiny and barely containing anything more than ornamental, common, but unfamiliar to him, fish.
Shen Qingqiu stares into his reflection, barely clothed, feeling the cold that feels native to him and ignoring the fact that it could be detrimental to his health.
In the reflection of the water — and only water — he sees another face with golden eyes, and thinks, should he really live the life of a scholar as he once dreamed?
The dead man in a living body slightly chuckles, exhaling frosty vapor from his mouth:
"What was your dream, Shen Qingqiu...?" asks Calamity as the ripples change to his current face; of course, he gets no answers.
He Xuan never wanted to be someone who steals other people's fate.