Chapter 11: 11 Stalks; Commitment, honesty, prevailing truth


Hiiii
Been a while huh? Haha...
Aaaand nothing very exciting is happening either... but! Have some revelations...?


When Shen Qingqiu blinked back into awareness, the first thing he noticed was pain. The dull, pulsing ache deep in his bones and sharp splinter flaring and fading through his spirit veins like sunlight on water.

The familiar aftermath of a Qi Deviation. A step closer to death, all because he couldn't keep control of his emotions and let the snippets of his alternate life sweep him away instead of utilising his diminishing time sensibly to instate protections and contingencies against that exact nightmare reoccurring.

He groaned silently and furrowed his brows as the pounding in his skull gained tonal layers, rhythm and physical presence. He would have to further the disciple's study in external qi manipulation and talismans- they would not be helpless against flames in this lifetime, sentient or otherwise.

Soon. Sooner than he had anticipated. Shen Qingqiu was no stranger to Qi Deviation, but these recent episodes were too strong and too close together to bode well for his cultivation, especially after his minor breakthrough in the Caves, which should have stabilised him for a few months and limited Deviation to minor events.

It seemed he was deteriorating, so the anchorage of the soul impression evidently a single-episode Deviation death preventative.

Hah, with the new, raw heart demons accrued from the 'memories' replacing some of the old ones his relief was temporary and his spiritual stability now closer to its state under Wu Yanzi's toxic guidance.

His days had always felt numbered, but now it seems that his paranoia was at once justified and impotent as his foil was revealed as the reflection in the mirror. Rather this than those shadowy manipulators hidden beneath the blinding golden light.

(…He could not summon that burning fire of will to fight against this fate. Not this time. He was just so… tired )

Still, for the time being he was alive and able to effect change.

A particularly strong pulse twisted his face.

Already he knew how the day would go.

The pressure of a headache would make his eyes squint against the light and blur his vision enough to be debilitating for combat, meditation or paperwork, so he'd have to go to the Quiet Pool to numb his bones and qi pathways, though his inability to attend the Peak Lord minutia would mean a backlog that would prolong the throbbing ache in his head for several days yet, thus sentencing him to consumption of overly bitter herbal teas and a depleted Tiger Balm store.

He sighed and let go of thoughts for the moment, easing the strain between his eyebrows and shut his eyes to indulge in the lingering peace and delicious warmth of his sheets.

Green eyes snapped open.

His bed was not supposed to be this warm. It was autumn season, so he should be feeling the chill of the air even with the generally mild climate maintained over Qing Jing.

His bed was not supposed to be this soft, but there was a softness under his fingers, a sharp glance met with impossibly soft tawny brown wool with simplistic cream diamond border pattern; the Cloud Wool blanket sent to him from Mu Qingfang, whose purpose still eluded him, the one that he'd put in the gold tasselled green qiankun pouch with all the bribe-treasures from Yue Qingyuan.

He shifted and felt high quality crystal beads and precious metal embroidery thread prickle and scrape against his skin. So those had been unearthed as well? Cushions and lounge blankets, gaudy, heavy, expensive and uncomfortable but still softer than his hard mattress and porcelain pillow as an odd, oversized nest.

Shen Qingqiu had not done this. Even in the dazed, mindless low mood that he fell into if the Deviation of the month didn't immediately knock him out, when he sought out warmth and comfort and maybe something in black and silver to pretend- like the pathetic wretch he was- even then. Shen Qingqiu would not have gone into that pouch and brought out its contents because…

(Because he couldn't afford it. Because he wouldn't sleep lightly enough to react to a threat. Because he would ruin these things, these guilt-bribe-treasure-gifts he couldn't bear to throw away, the very first time he had one of his nightmares and he couldn't stand to ruin these too.)

Shen Qingqiu had not done this. Which meant- he cast his senses out in a rush ( CARELESS! THIS was why he did not rest in comfort ), hands flying up to grip his head at the pain that followed the rush of information- there were people in his house.

Heart lodged in his throat, he jerked upright and called Xiu Ya into his hand, haste making the summoning rough and his spirit veins wrench as his sword spirit flowed through them to manifest in his hand, his flawless jian shining like crystallised moonlight even as his mind registered exactly who was in his home.

Sun warmed forest, green with fresh growth but sturdy as an established tree trunk. Cool, damp earth and secluded underground spaces with the sense of smooth cave stone, tranquil and settled. Mu Qingfang and Li Qingrong, settled in Shen Qingqiu's main room. Now that he was focused, he could feel their qi lingering in his meridians (they must have come upon him mid-Deviation and borne witness to his weakness, he had had an appointment with the Elementalism Lord for tea had he not? Upon his shidi's request no less. What an infuriating loss of face before whatever request Li-shidi was to make of him, it put him at a disadvantage on a matter of enough importance to bring the Twelfth Lord to his door personally when he usually could barely stand his shixiong's presence without experiencing physical pain masked in his expression). A third, small light rested in the room with them, a bright glimmer even in its base state, like tinkling silver bells and chiming Baoding balls, with a subtle glint like a blade. Ning Yingying.

Off in his side room…two much smaller candle flames. New leaves and winding vines quietly glowing, one bold and vivacious with a sharp zing like a thin orange-red edge on wide, unfurling leaves, the other steadier and more structured in its growth, more like a whip thin elegant bamboo sampling than the exotic haphazard shrub of a companion. Ming Fan and Luo Binghe.

His heart beats steadied and the pain came rushing back to the forefront of his awareness, soothed a bit by gentle ripple of qi from his dear Xiu Ya.

Urgh there was so much to do.

He still needed to take that girl to task. Tomorrow. His newly revised schedule dictated that he would personally supervise the junior disciple cohort five days a week, the full day once in ten and half days for four, with minor alteration to the established timetable in the days between. Thus, he was not expected to lead any tomorrow and could remove Ning Yingying from her intended calligraphy, painting and library studies sessions to apply some personal instruction. He had intended to complete her personalised cultivation manual beforehand and talk to her about her future prospects, but time was another Immortal's luxury denied him.

(He would ensure the Sect was strong. Shen Jiu hadn't left because his Qi-ge was still an idiotic bleeding heart who couldn't see the glint of evil in a man's eye or dagger in the shadows. The Sect was just a bigger version of the pack of rats the moron claimed as his, so Shen Jiu, Qingqiu, kept to the outskirts and herded them out of trouble as always. Shen Qingqiu might not be able to do it much longer, but he would leave the Sect, Qi- ge, safe . He had promised two lives' loyalty to his brother in their youth and devotion to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect to his Shizun and the innumerably layered spirit-impressions of the preceding generations upon his Ascension to Peak Lord, and his word was absolute.)

He pressed a hand over his eyes at a particularly uncomfortable pulse, appreciating the darkness for a long moment before he pulled himself together.

As he was apparently going to be denied the curtesy of time to regain his equilibrium in private, there was no sense hiding in this facsimile of safety. There was work to be done.

Shen Qingqiu heaved himself up out of the warmth with a disproportionate degree of emotional effort and glared down at his robes.

Bloodstained.

Exactly what he needed. Tch.

Snarling in irritation, he roughly pulled the marred top layers off and on silent feet stalked over to the closet tucked into the opposite corner of the room, deliberately placed away from the bed in case someone hid themselves within, waiting for his guard to lower in sleep (despite the arrays hidden in and around his house that would never allow an intruder in unannounced and the wardrobe was specifically too shallow for an adult to do so).

Pulling on a deep blue-green set with small smatterings of embroidered purple ground orchids, he pulled a paper fan with a marshy water-scene in dark blues and greens from his collection stacked across the tessellated squares of the stand. Hopefully the heron on it would share some of its strength and patience with him.

He hesitated in front of the vanity table. As he was meeting specifically with the healer capable of wrangling all forms of unwilling Peak Lords into check-ups and treatments (ranging from snarling beast Lords of Bai Zhan and Huang Ye, to politely insistent unwillingness lurking in Qiong Ding and Jing Shen robes, to conspicuous absence where An Ding and the rest should be in times of injury)... makeup or illusion talisman concealment was pointless, anything else would be pointlessly pretentious with his image already ruined and enduring the heaviness of a hair crown tugging on his scalp would worsen his headache significantly.

As the blood rush from bending to put his shoes on had almost knocked him down, he truly did not need the additional hindrance.

Thus, with just a plain white ribbon in his hair, tying two thin sections of hair back from either side of his face, Shen Qingqiu blanked his expression and swept out into the main room.

.

.

.

Mu Qingfang sipped his tea and tried to ward off his brewing headache through cycling qi in a soothing rhythm at his temples. It was oolong, of which Shen Qingqiu always had a sizable store of and itself had headache-relieving properties as well as mental invigoration, though it did not do so nearly as well as Mu Qingfang's typical strong black teas and truthfully, he was beginning to feel the decline.

At least Li Qingrong seemed to enjoy it. With his acute spiritual sensitivity, the effects of the blend would undoubtedly be a relief.

… Sometimes he wondered if the Twelfth Lord would not have been more suited for Ku Xing, given his innate affinity for the intangible forces and subtle qi flows of karma, feng shui and divination that were the ascetic Peak's purview. As a disciple, he had asked his Shizun about it once when he had recently received the name Qingfang and was discussing the medical constitutions of his generation with the revered Lady of a Thousand Grasses. Shu Qiongting showed him Li Qingrong's patient documents and the notes made on the ice-flow Qi deviations he suffered frequently early in his cultivation and asked him the prognosis for this spirit-sensitive patient to immerse themselves fully in the higher energy flows without anchor, as required of Ku Xing's cultivation path to forming a Golden Core.

Jing Shen was a far better match, at least working with the physical land kept him grounded. Chang Qingshi had cultivated his spirit sight to perceive the higher workings of things while his Yang Earth nature afforded him a more settled spiritual base than their Li-shidi's yin.

Observing his martial brother in light meditation across from him, veil pulled back in the soft evening light, Mu Qingfang took in the tightness around his closed eyes and resolved to meet with Kai Qingmei to discuss the contents of the Zui Xian Lord's habitual 'welcome back' care package for Li Qingrong. He enjoyed providing for his martial siblings and appreciated the challenge of incorporating medicinal elements into treats for his generational siblings, balancing ingredient harmony for the benefits while managing the taste into something pleasing.

It would also give Mu Qingfang an excuse to meet with him and check on his wellbeing over tea and conversation. Kai Qingmei was a warm, cheerful man who had always seemed to deal well with the stress of the demand from his Peak to meet the dietary requirements of the Sect overall, training kitchen staff and rotating disciples through the Food Hall kitchens on each Peak, working closely with An Ding to ensure larders and pantries stayed fully stocked while producing their renowned wines and elixirs for export.

Movement in the side room drew his attention back to the present. Li Qingrong casually brushed his veil back into place as the tall junior carrying a visibly bulging messenger bag bowed to them and left the Bamboo Hut, for the third time while they had been waiting and the bouncy Female Head Disciple Ning Yingying appeared yet again to ask them if they needed their tea refreshed.

Mu Qingfang had never quite understood Shen Qingqiu's decision to install dual Head-Discipleship on Qing Jing. It seemed to serve no purpose except to confuse the chain of authority for the rest of the Sect and the girl herself was perhaps a bit... whimsical for a position of responsibility.

She was stood waiting with her hands clasped together and eyes reduced to crescents with the brightness of her smile, as if their answer might have changed. With her ribbons and general effervescence, it excused her uncomfortable level of over-enthusiasm as simple childish sincerity, but it was still off-putting and made him wonder if her position was indeed simply due to favouritism as he occasionally heard mutterings of in the Healing Halls among disciples.

However, this time he inquired about the quantity of work that required both junior Head Disciples of the Peak to abandon their lessons for the afternoon to process and keep two of their shidi as assistants.

Her head tilted to the side and round, doe brown eyes gazed at him guilelessly, but a small crease between her brown belied her confusion. "These disciples always assume processing duties for Shifu's paperwork when he is unavailable. Liu-shijie and Wu-shixiong usually help with higher level missives but shixiong is on a mission and shijie has a delicate project."

He frowned, slightly bewildered, "Ning-shizhi, were the Peak forms and correspondence responsibilities were delegated to the Qing Jing Hallmasters during Shen-shixiong's seclusion? For what reason is there so much undone barely two days since?"

She blinked, twice, fawn eyes widening as she replied, "Answering Mu-shishu, Qing Jing Hallmasters guide and assess the projects and cultivation of these disciples and bestow final approval of work conducted by Head Disciples when Shizun is unavailable. This one's teachers do not have assigned paperwork sectors of Peak correspondence beyond training these disciples."

Which. Was absurd.

Every Peak in the Sect had a cabinet of Hallmasters assigned various categories of Peak minutia. Every Peak Lord in the Sect had a Hallmaster council that provided summary reports and raised issues, concerns and suggestions with them based on observations made in their assigned sectors by processing all the relevant paperwork. Just as the Peak Lords do to a lesser extent for their Sect Leader!

One person could not possibly identify such specific trends and details in one sector when they were attempting to do so in every other sector involved in maintaining a Peak and Cultivation Sect!

Every Peak has this! Except, apparently, Qing Jing, if Ning-shizhi was to be believed... and with the way her entire demeanour radiated bright, sweet innocence... no. It almost made him feel guilty of even conceiving her to be of a dubious nature, neverminded capable of deliberately spreading misleading information to two of her shishu about her own Hallmasters.

Then how had this happened? Was it Shen Qingqiu's arrogance? His pride and perceived superiority driven to remove responsibility and authority from his own staff and contemporaries? But Shen Qingqiu was the Sect Tactician and had maintained his post through the time since their appointment with the uncanny ability of knowing about every situation that might have occurred in relation to any Cultivator of Cang Qiong and used the most obscure details to great effect against antagonists, therefor he had actually been completing the ludicrous volume of work his Peak must receive.

So in addition to Shen Qingqiu's heart demons, spiritual volatility and the layered damage of repeated Deviations on top of already poor Cultivation, the man had been suffering under an unreasonable level of persistent stress in his daily life. Frankly, it was a miracle he was not already dead.

...Dead. Died, like he almost had done in the grips of fever and his most recent Qi Deviation. The reason Mu Qingfang had come to the Bamboo House in the first place. The reason, it was becoming increasingly likely, that Li Qingrong had returned from his endless roaming almost immediately sought out the Scholar Lord, when he had never once done so before.

His eyes met wide lilac behind gauze.

"Shizun!" a bright voice chirped, prompting immediate scuffling from the side room.

Both Lords turned towards the sound to see the girl saluting with a wide smile and fluttering hair ribbons, the two disciples emerging, both turning and saluting to the figure stood in the bedroom doorway, dressed in opulent robes rich in colour and embroidery as going to attend a formal meeting, only missing his typical large, stately hair crown to complete the image.

Shen Qingqiu was awake.


Notes:

•Chang Qingshi – 8th Peak, Ku Xing Lord
•Lords affinity: MQF- Yang wood, LQR- Yin earth,
•Disciples affinity: LBH- Yin wood, MF- Yin wood, NYY- yin metal

•Rank identification: every Peak follows a belt stripe system to distinguish junior (one stripe) disciples from seniors (two stripe) from Hallmasters (three stripe) to identify ability level due to vastly different colours and cuts of uniform and personalisation across the Sect.

•Previous generation: Qian Cao Lord Shu Qiongting, of the Qiong generation. The generational naming follows the order of Peak hierarchy, with the next generation once (if) the Qing Ascend would be the 'Wan' generation, taken from Wan Jian. (I know it should be a character carrying a blessing/wish to the next gen, but I this is my hc and I have difficulty enough making OCs (blame Airplane for the trend of slack cultural accuracy))

•Cloud Wool is the cashmere equivalent, but even softer in places of high ambient qi due to passive interaction. Warm, fluffy and soft like a cloud (fantasy cloud. Leave me be) and as difficult to destroy as one too (not that SQQ knows this).

•Oolong tea is the least bitter of the caffeinated teas (black tea being the most caffeinated and bitter. Mu Qingfang drinks it very strongly steeped. He needs the caffeine. Desperately.)