Chapter Text
1
Shen Qingqiu felt his right eye twitch. It's not like he particularly enjoyed interacting with the Xian Shu brats or their Shizun. And to add insult to literal injury, he's being brushed off like a common man. That thought offends him more than being talked down to by a mere outer disciple unfit to receive a peak lord or deliver messages to one.
He drops his fan to fully display the sneer that twists its way into his controlled mask and reiterates, “This Master doesn't take to being lied to. Peak Lord Qi is in the sect and this one desires an audience. Run along now.”
The brat looks near ready to cry. “Shen Shibo, Shizun really is away, I beg of you to please come back-"
“Greeting Shen Shibo!"
Shen Qingqiu watches as another disciple, an older one, runs up to them, panting from effort. Unsightly. Qi Qingqi really did spoil her lot.
She catches her breath under the guise of bowing to him, it goes on for a few seconds too long, her graceful and incorrect form makes his fingers itch to correct it with his fan.
“Speak."
“Answering Shen Shibo, forgive my shimei, she's uninformed. Shizun returned from a mission earlier this morning and asks Shibo to return another day. She wants to attend to her peak and cannot entertain guests this week."
“This matter cannot wait. Neither can this master who is also freshly returned from a mission himself.”
The two share a look. Poorly hidden helplessness.
“This disciple will inform Shizun and perhaps, Shibo would like to wait for a summon in the comfort of his own peak..?"
"This master will not. He awaits permission to enter as soon as possible and will do so right here. Dismissed.”
Both the disciples bow to him before jogging up the stairs and blinking into the illusionary barrier. Whispered conversation about him carries onto the soft breeze long after they disappear and he grits his teeth.
Who did they think created and then did the regular upkeep for their lil maze and protection barriers. Certainly not their Shizun. No matter. He only needs a flower and he could be on his way and never have to be back here.
Swaying on his feet, he rides out the pain pinpricking its way through his meridians. He sullenly scoffs to himself. Damn that brute for putting him in this situation in the first place.
The pinprick sharpens into a stronger tugging sensation in his lower abdomen and he has to keep himself from doubling over. If he didn't know better he'd think he was being punished for being a man. But he did know better and this was no punishment. It was a mistake and he knew exactly who to spit at for it. Liu Goddamn Qingge. And his ancestors.
Shen Qingqiu looks around once the pain subsides to tolerable. No one at the entrance, certainly no man will be climbing up the mountain like he had either. A cursory sweep with his qi lets him know that he's all alone and that's enough for him to make a beeline for the smallest pavilion outside the barrier.
It felt like his insides were being hand pulled and kneaded like noodles. He pulls the soft pillows off the pavilion’s high seats and throws them onto the floor, quickly sitting down in a lotus position. The railings of the pavilion were high enough that he'd be safe from wandering eyes.
Liu Qingge had offered to clear his meridians. His idiot shidi who a) knew next to nothing when it came to flora and fauna, and b) knew nothing beyond swinging his sword in general. No thank you. He'd rather trust his own judgement than the brute who'd once tried to walk off a tired salamander's unlucky potluck poisoning. No, no one knew these accursed plants better than the peak lord of Qing Jing. Perhaps his other idiot shidi, but he'd be damned if he went to Qian Cao.
Shen Qingqiu pulls out a few heating talismans from his qiankun bag and slaps them on the pillow behind his back and on his lower abdomen. The relief is instant. The pain in his back falls down to a demanding ache while the tug of war in his lower abdomen settles on a playful game than the previous assault.
Clear his meridians. Shen Qingqiu huffs in indignation. The wind whistles past the pavilion, a nearby creature groans in time with the rising wind. Shen Qingqiu identifies it to be a battlepunk. The chimes over the roof add to the quiet melody and before he knows it, he's asleep, sitting as he were, dreaming of an ugly cat feeding flowers to an even uglier battlepunk.
2
The pounding on the door is incessant. So is the giggling. Xiao Hua, he thinks, is a brat and a tactician. Yes. A brat, definitely, he'd be right to tell her. “I'm coming, Huahua, the door won't hold and if the door won't hold neither will I you-”
Shen Qingqiu startles awake, "This Master said, a moment!”
The chimes chime and the wind had picked up, quietening the singing punk and quickening Shen Qingqiu’s heartbeat. The sun had sunk down the horizon, only a line of orange remained. Laughter dies down as some disciples jog past him and Qi Qingqi looking down at him. Shen Qingqiu glares up at her.
Qi Qingqi straightens up, lazily removing her hand from the wooden frame as she drawls, "Did Shixiong catch enough sleep? Given a humble bench couldn't compare to the comfort of the.. places he prefers to spend his nights at-” He pictures her ears perking up in interest like a cat, ready to pounce.
Shen Qingqiu stands up with as much grace as he can muster. His face heats up. He brings up his fan and he leaves the pillows alone. His robes are wrinkled. His left leg is asleep. No matter. “Negligent and discourteous structure of your mismanaged peak leave much to be desired, this master agrees. Now-”
She huffs, annoyingly interrupting him with her lazy drawl. “Perhaps, you would like to enlighten me of better ways then? Preferably over breakfast, you see I-"
Shen Qingqiu interrupts her out of surprise rather than indignation. "This one will be taking his leave!” Xiu Ya is already under his feet and the wind in his ears and he's flying without waiting to hear the end of Qi Qingqi’s angry voice asking him to stay like a misbehaving pet.
Breakfast! Break!Fast! Careless, he tells himself, you're a very careless man, losing more face in one night than you did in years of nasty encounters. He wonders who spotted him first. One of her giggling disciples, younger than his Yingying even? Or her head disciple. She couldn't have stumbled upon him herself. He would do well to fall out of the sky before accepting any of these possibilities.
His sword had flown him to the red pavilion instead of his little bamboo hut, knowing what he needed better than his careless, stupid self. The sun is no longer deceptively low on the horizon. Shutting it behind himself as he enters the establishment, he wills it to be generous and shine with its full might onto the Xian Shu Peak. Bright and hot enough for its foliage to catch fire and burn it down to a crisp and along it, his shameful display.
In his haste and shame, the state of his meridians forgotten, he only worsened his symptoms he realizes later as he lies cuddled in his jiejie’s arms, sleep eluding him now where it was safe and welcome.