Shen Jiu hated peak lord meetings. They were overwhelmingly useless – Yue Qingyuan could just as easily send any necessary updates via messenger, rather than have them all sit together in a stuffy room –, and Shen Jiu held no misunderstandings about his sect siblings’ unpleasant feelings for him.
All in all, the monthly meetings were a waste of time and not worth Shen Jiu’s energy. Yet, he always appeared. Shen Jiu wouldn’t give his conniving, fellow peak lords another reason to disparage him behind his back.
The current meeting felt even more useless than usual. They were in the middle of another argument between Liu Qingge and Shang Qinghua about the damage the horde of Bai Zhan menaces caused throughout the sect. Though, with Shang Qinghua cowering in his seat, it was far from an actual argument.
Shen Jiu flipped open a fan with a loud crack, silencing Shang Qinghua in the middle of a stammered sentence and drawing all attention to himself.
“Must we continue the same conversation,” he drawled, letting his eyes flick over his fellow peak lords. “The brute refuses to discipline his own disciplines. I say, we discipline them for him.”
“Shen Qingqiu!” Liu Qingge immediately shot back, outraged. His face was screwed up in its usual scowl. Though Shen Jiu supposed the scowl was only typical when pointed in his direction.
Qi Qingqi scoffed. “A teacher’s first response should never be pain.”
The Brewing Peak Lord and Ku Xing Peak Lord also seemed outraged with Shen Jiu’s suggestion, while a handful of others only just started paying attention to the conversation.
Mu Qingfang sighed, and Shen Jiu couldn’t tell which party the doctor was more exasperated with.
Yue Qingyuan, as usual, maintained his calm aura of contentment as raised his hands to calm the peak lords. Shen Jiu wanted to grind the smile off his lips with the heel of his boot.
“Xiao-Jiu,” Yue Qingyuan placated. “It is not typical for one peak lord to interfere in the affairs of another.”
Shen Jiu’s hold on his fan tightened. He refused to look at Yue Qingyuan as he responded.
“Other peaks typically don’t let hordes of barely trained beasts run amok on others’ grounds,” he hissed. “I couldn’t care less about the brute’s lack of care for his own peak, but his beasts are interfering with my own disciple’s education. And tearing apart my peak!”
“If Qing Jing disciples fought back properly,” Liu Qingge argued, “it wouldn’t be an issue.”
Shen Jiu clenched his jaw.
“This,” he responded, forcing as chilly an air as possible into his words, “is not a problem unique to Qing Jing. Peak Lord Shang has brought this matter before us in the last three meetings. Your inability to manage your peak is draining the entire sect of resources.”
Liu Qingge huffed, obviously wanting to argue, but struggling to find the words.
Yue Qingyuan stepped in.
“Xiao-Jiu is correct, Liu-shidi,” he said.
Shen Jiu let a cruel smirk play over his lips, sliding his fan to hide it a moment behind, just so Liu Qingge was sure to see it.
Liu Qingge’s scowl deepened.
“Each peak is the responsibility of its lord, and we shall maintain those boundaries without overstepping,” Yue Qingyuan said. “However, in that, is the duty of each peak lord to keep their disciples and affairs in order. Liu-shidi, it is up to you how to lead your peak, but when it effects the whole, you need to make changes.”
Liu Qingge flushed red with anger, and the sight alone lessened Shen Jiu’s anger towards Yue Qingyuan’s pointed remark about himself.
Yue Qingyuan smiled serenely.
“Any more business to discuss?”
The Beast Peak’s Lord, Pei Qingli stood.
“Yes,” she said, “some of our disciples found this growing in one of the pastures this morning. It popped up overnight and has taken over the entire field. None of my teachers could identify, so they brought it to me.” She nodded towards Mu Qingfang. “I planned to bring it to Mu-shixiong later, but figure it’ll be easier with everyone here to discuss.”
She put the flower on the table. It was small, almost like a daisy, but each stem had a handful of blooms instead of just one. The flower itself was bright pink, so bright it felt unnatural.
“It could be nothing. However, we’ve got a full pasture of it and its origins are strange, so just in case,” she shrugged, “better to deal with it sooner rather than later.”
Shen Jiu leaned in for a better look. He wasn’t as adept with flora as Mu Qingfang, but he certainly spent more time reading up on it than any of the other peak lords.
Mu Qingfang readjusted his glasses and pulled the flower towards himself, twirling it around.
The other peak lords watched, some clearly racking their brains for information that Shen Jiu was sure they did not have.
Shang Qinghua in particular was squinting at the flower, mumbling something under his breath.
Shen Jiu drummed his finger against the table. He was sure he’d read about this. The color was too distinct to be confused with much else.
Mu Qingfang noticed Shen Jiu’s attention and held out the flower for him to take.
Shen Jiu did so, running a finger delicately over one of the flower buds.
Liu Qingge scoffed.
Shen Jiu paused but didn’t look up.
“This seems to be a reactant flower,” Shen Jiu said to Mu Qingfang. “Though, I cannot recall what it does or what will set off its effects. I remember the image from a volume of works on the subject.”
“What volume?” Mu Qingfang asked, brows furrowed.
“I cannot recall the name.”
“What do you know?” Liu Qingge grumbled.
Shen Jiu tensed and took a deep breath, clenching his jaw.
“More than you.”
Liu Qingge glared and reached for the flower.
Shen Jiu pulled it back, out of Liu Qingge’s reach, and gave the man a withering look.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Trying to look at the flower.”
Liu Qingge took a step forward and Shen Jiu twisted in his seat to keep it away from him.
“Why? A brainless rock like you wouldn’t know what it is.”
Liu Qingge swiftly dropped a hand to Cheng Luan at the insult.
“Liu-shidi!” Yue Qingyuan scolded.
“Hah,” Shen Jiu snorted and stood. “Throwing a sword at your problems as always.”
“They’re both fighting Zhangmen-shixiong,” Qi Qingqi argued. “Why do you only defend Shen Qingqiu.”
“And Peak Lord Shen is above problems?” Liu Qingge scoffed with his hand still on Cheng Luan, ignoring everyone else entirely.
Mu Qingfang sighed.
“Unlike some, I take my responsibilities seriously and actually solve problems.”
The Ku Xing Peak Lord stood, as well, rubbing at his temple. “Shen-shixiong, be reasonable.”
Shen Jiu bristled.
Pei Qingli looked between everyone, seemingly lost at how her simple request tumbled into this.
“Just a spoiled child that’s too used to getting your way,” Liu Qingge snarked.
Shen Jiu had long since become acquainted with the wild misconceptions of his past that his sect mates seemed to believe. Yet, the assumption – the farthest thing from the truth –still sent a chill down his spine.
He tightened his fist, used to grounding himself with his fans.
But instead, crushed the flower in his grip.
The blooms puffed open at the pressure and a small cloud of pollen filled the air.
“Oh, f*ck!” Shang Qinghua shouted, scrambling up and drawing Shen Jiu’s attention.
The pollen drifted up.
“Don’t breathe it in!” He yelled, throwing himself over the table as if that would actually do anything to help. “I recognize it now! It’s a truth drug!”
Shen Jiu clamped his mouth shut and dropped the flower from his hand.
But it was too late.
He’d gotten a whiff of the sickly sweet pollen.
The other peak lords covered their faces with their sleeves, and Liu Qingge stepped a few paces back, leaving Shen Jiu the only one at risk.
Within a few moments, the pollen dispersed, settling in the air.
“It loses its potency only a few moments after being in the air,” Shang Qinghua said, dropping his sleeves. “We should be fine now. Did you breathe any in Shen-shixiong.”
Shen Jiu wanted to snarl at the pathetic man. His minor usefulness came heatbeats too late.
“What do you think?” he hissed.
“Umm,” Shang Qinghua blinked back at him. “It’s very unclear.”
Shen Jiu glared.
“How long will this last?” he questioned. “How strong are the effects? Tell me everything you know right now.”
A slight tingling started at the base of Shen Jiu’s skull. Subtle, but it put him on edge. There was no avoiding this now. He just needed the details of his ailment, then he’d hide himself in the Bamboo House until the effect wore off.
Everyone stared at Shang Qinghua.
“Ummm…” the small man started to sweat. “This is a pretty particular effect.”
The tingling made its way to Shen Joy’s throat, and he had to hold himself back from scratching at it.
“It’s not just a truth curse. It’s like a secret sharer?”
“What does that mean, Shang-shidi?” Mu Qingfang asked before Shen Jiu could jump over the table and smack him with his fan.
“Most truth drugs force a victim to answer all questions truthfully and speak no lies,” Shang Qinghua stammered. “This one is more like… it forces the victim to share all their truths.”
“Forces?” Shen Jiu bit out. The tingling reached his tongue.
“Forces,” Shang Qinghua confirmed. “It doesn’t last long!” He attempted to reassure. “But ummm, it has a very broad category of what it defines as a lie. It will make you share any secrets you hold or explain lies you’ve told.”
Shen Jiu forced his lips together, not allowing any words to come out. He spun on his heel to make it back to Qing Jing as quickly as possible.
A sheathed Cheng Luan blocked his path.
“No,” Liu Qingge said. “Peak lords cannot tell each other lies. Peak Lord Shen,” the title was an insult from him, “should have nothing to hide.”
Shen Jiu glared. He wanted to whack Liu Qingge with his own sword, throw him off the peak and watch him crash into the ground below.
Shen Jiu made to go around him but was stopped again.
With lips firmly closed and the tingling filling his head, Shen Jiu screamed at him, making a muffled, strange sound.
“Liu-shidi,” Yue Qingyuan said, moving to Shen Jiu’s side. “Let Shen Qingqiu pass.”
Liu Qingge frowned at Yue Qingyuan.
“No,” Qi Qingqi spoke up, stepping around the table. “Liu-shidi is correct. What would Shen-shixiong have to hide from us? His fellow peak lords.”
Yue Qingyuan lost any hint of serenity. “That is not your decision to make.”
Wei Qingwei spoke, “why not?”
“What?” Yue Qingyuan asked, and Shen Jiu could hear the shock in his voice.
“We are sect siblings. We are meant to lead together.” Wei Qingwei said. “Dissent and lies tore the last peak lords apart. In our first years, we swore to be better.”
A few of the other peak lords nodded along to that.
“Shen-shixiong is… it doesn’t matter. I don’t care what Shen-shixiong does or how many fights we need to break up between these two,” he gestured to Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge. “But I will not accept lies from someone who’s supposed to be a brother.”
The Ku Xing peak lord nodded along.
Lin Qingshui and Xu Qinggao stood as well in agreement.
“Leaving now only paints a troubling picture for Shen-shixiong,” Lin Qingshui said.
Yue Qingyuan looked between them and Shen Jiu.
Shen Jiu did his best to express his contempt for the situation, but it felt like his head was filled with bees.
“Mu-shidi,” Yue Qingyuan turned to the healer. “You must disagree with this? Forcing Xiao Jiu to share his personal thoughts while under the influence of a drug is reprehensible.”
Mu Qingfang stared back at them both, clearly troubled.
“I do not agree with the method,” Mu Qingfang answered. “However, if Shen-shixiong were to leave now, I fear it will mark the start of our demise.”
Yue Qingyuan frowned. Shen Jiu felt like his head would explode.
Then, after a long, tense moment: “Lock the doors,” Yue Qingyuan said.
Shen Jiu stared at him.
“Now, Liu-shidi,” Yue Qingyuan ordered, startling the other man into action. “Lock the doors, and Gao-shidi, put up silencing arrays.”
The talismans peak lord also sprang into action, protecting the room.
“If this must happen,” Yue Qingyuan said, now staring straight at Shen Jiu, “no outsiders shall overhear.”
Shen Jiu scoffed.
“So, no one will hear of your failures?”
Shen Jiu’s head was ringing. He couldn’t hear his own thoughts.
Yue Qingyuan’s face twisted in pain.
“No, Xiao-Jiu, for you.”
“As if you care,” he bit back, savoring the moment of relief the small confession gave him.
“What does Zhangmen-shixiong have to do with your failures?” Qi Qingqi questioned.
The words fell from Shen Jiu’s lips before he could even process them.
“Yue Qi was by my side long before we even knew that Cang Qiong existed.”
Yue Qingyuan softened at those words, reaching for Shen Jiu, but Shen Jiu brushed the hand away. He raised his own to his temple, attempting to curb the banging in his head.
“So, you two do have past that predates our disciple days,” Wei Qingwei murmured.
Yue Qingyuan sighed. “That was never a secret. Simply something neither of us wished to speak on.”
Shen Jiu pressed a knuckle deep into his temple, willing the growing pain to slow.
With a gasp, another confession fell from his lips.
“Slaves.”
Both hands went to grasp at his temple.
“We were homeless, street children sold as slaves.”
The room was silent.
But Shen Jiu’s head was on fire.
“It would ruin Cang Qiong if it was revealed that both the sect leader and peak lord of Qing Jing were once slaves,” he said in a rush, breathing deeply with the wave of cool, calm that settled in his mind.
With the temporary clarity, Shen Jiu looked over his sect siblings. Their reactions, predictably, ranged from quiet shock to disbelief. Yue Qingyuan's expression hadn't changed at all; his worried eyes focused on Shen Jiu.
“You,” Shen Jiu hissed, pointing at him. “Why aren’t you more concerned? I’ve told everyone your dirty secret.”
Yue Qingyuan’s brow furrowed.
“That’s not important right now,” he answered. “Are you in pain?”
A new wave of hurt ran over Shen Jiu.
“It’s not important?” he spat. “It doesn’t matter to you that everyone knows your pathetic origins now?”
The questions were at the tip of Shen Jiu’s tongue for the past decade, though never voiced, because he already knew the answer.
Yue Qingyuan left, got away to something better and forgot about Shen Jiu, because it was easy. Because why would he care for the dirty child he’d lived with on the streets. Because there was no point in dirtying his newfound life and prestige for his rotten, despicable Xiao Jiu.
Because he didn’t want anyone to know he was also a slave.
So, why wasn’t Yue Qingyuan angry?
“Then why did you forget about me the moment you left?”
Everyone else in the room disappeared for Shen Jiu. The only thing that mattered – that ever mattered – was Qi-ge.
“You think I forgot you?”
He looked like a kicked puppy.
Shen Jiu knew how misleading that expression was. Yue Qingyuan had used that exact expression to beg for scraps alongside him.
“Of course,” he snarled. His head was pounding. “Of course you did.”
“No, Xiao-Jiu,” Yue Qingyuan denied. “How could Qi-ge ever forget Xiao-Jiu?”
Shen Jiu stared at him.
He couldn’t think anything. His head pounded.
“Then why?”
The question came out much weaker than he’d intended, not that he’d really intended it at all. It was becoming harder to discern between what he thought and what he said.
The question, or maybe it was Shen Jiu’s dreadful appearance, seemed to shoot Yue Qingyuan directly in the heart. His face fell, and all his beautiful features screwed up.
“This Qi-ge tried.”
For a moment, all the pain disappeared. Shen Jiu just repeated those words endlessly in his mind.
Yue Qingyuan took a step forward, eyes pleading Shen Jiu for… something.
“I tried, Xiao-Jiu. But I was too late, and all I found was a burned manor. They said no one survived. And… and I gave up. I thought I had lost you. That I’d wasted so much time only to lose you, and I had no one to blame but myself.”
Shen Jiu staggered at the revelation.
In an instant, Yue Qingyuan was at his side, holding Shen Jiu by the elbow to support him.
“Xiao-Jiu?” the older man watched him with concern.
“All this time…” Shen Jiu stared at the floor in front of him, though every single touch of contact with Yue Qingyuan was electric.
If not for the raging pain making a reappearance in Shen Jiu’s body, this moment would be a dream. To know that he wasn’t unwanted by his Qi-ge, that Yue Qingyuan’s misplaced guilt wasn’t that he’d left Shen Jiu behind, but that he’d failed in saving him.
And that meant all the world of difference.
Then, the rest of the peak lords saw it fit to make themselves known again.
The Ku Xing Peak Lord scoffed, silently, but not silent enough for every advanced cultivator to hear.
“No wonder Shen-shixiong is a lecher,” he grumbled. “A slave!”
Yue Qingyuan immediately turned on the man, glaring.
A chorus of protests shot up among the other peak lords, as well.
“Watch yourself, Xu-shidi,” Qi Qingqi snapped. “Whether or not you like Shen-shixiong, it’s unbefitting a man of your status to sink so low for such prejudiced assumptions.”
Shang Qinghua, typically the quietest of the lot, also spoke up. “One’s origins do not define their character. Unless you also want to label Zhangmen-shixiong a lecher?”
The Ku Xing Peak Lord was clearly alone with his thoughts, and already, with the collective judgement of other peak lords, he was cowed into apologizing. He dipped into a short bow and mumbled apologies.
Mu Qingfang dropped his head into one of his hands and rubbed at his temple.
For the first time, Shen Jiu understood what it meant to have his sect siblings standing behind him.
The thrill of the moment, though, was quickly overrun by a new wave of pain. His head was burning. It seemed as if the cursed plant now wanted him to break down all misconceptions about his supposed lechery.
“Is this damn thing supposed to help me or hurt me?” he hissed, stumbling again as the skin of his face felt like it was being poked by a million little needles from the inside.
“Ah, Shixiong, it just wants the truth,” Shang Qinghua answered the rhetorical question.
“Shen-Shixiong,” Mu Qingfang said. “Anything you reveal here today will remain with us. No matter the truth, we will honor it and you, as our brother. Please, for your sake, don’t fight against the effects too hard.”
Yue Qingyuan hadn’t let go of him, and his touch was warm.
Shen Jiu could feel the new ‘truth’ bubbling up, and he bit it back down.
No matter what they said, Shen Jiu had no intention of giving his sect siblings more insight into his life than necessary. His fellow peak lords defending him once, not throwing him out the second he’d revealed he wasn’t a young lord, was not nearly enough to warrant giving them his secrets.
The resistance seemed to unlock something new in the curse, and the pain doubled.
Shen Jiu cried out, fully letting Yue Qingyuan support him.
Something warm dripped down his lip. He rose a shaky hand to wipe at it, only to pull away and stare blankly at the blood.
The nosebleed hadn’t even registered among all the other pain he currently felt.
It was as if he lost all control of himself.
“I’m a virgin,” he confessed.
Shen Jiu was mortified.
The entire room went silent. Shen Jiu could feel how still Yue Qingyuan had become.
Only Liu Qingge was dumb enough to speak in such silence.
“But…” the brash man stuttered, seemingly at a loss for words. “But... the brothel?”
Shen Jiu wanted to laugh at how obviously every other peak lord in the room seemed to agree with Liu Qingge’s confusion.
“This lord goes to the Warm Red Pavilion to sleep,” the words tumbled out, and Shen Jiu let them, wanting desperately for a respite. “The ladies are friends and treat me kindly.”
“Does Shen-shixiong have trouble sleeping?” Mu Qingfang asked, eyes full of concern. “Why has shixiong not come to this healer for help?”
“How can one sleep soundly in a place they know they are not welcome?” Shen Jiu answered, closing his eyes; focusing only on the relief, not on the confession. “It would be unwise to expose one’s weakness to those who may use it against him. The adulterous assumptions are easier to handle than outsiders learning that this one is weak in such a way.”
Yue Qingyuan loosened and drew Shen Jiu even closer to himself.
Shen Jiu let him. His Qi-ge’s body warmth was a comfort against the cool, unflinching pain.
“Shixiong,” Mu Qingfang sighed.
“Shen…” Liu Qingge started, paused, then continued, “Shen-Qingqiu, why did you try to kill me?”
Shen Jiu laughed, not fighting the curse at all for this confession.
“I didn’t.”
“You!“ Liu Qingge argued, then stopped himself. He huffed. “Then this peak lord must apologize.”
Shen Jiu started at that. He opened his eyes to find Liu Qingge in a bow before him. Shen Jiu watched him numbly.
“Why?” he asked.
Liu Qingge straightened and scowled. He crossed his arms and glared.
“For accusing without proof. On multiple counts. For making a shixiong feel so unwelcome.”
“This lord doesn’t need your pity,” Shen Jiu hissed, closing his eyes again and focusing on channeling the pain.
“It’s not pity!” Liu Qingge bit back. “I still don’t like you.”
Shen Jiu scoffed. But nodded.
The pain was building up again, and Shen Jiu didn’t have the energy to spare for the brute. Memories flitted through his mind, as if the flower was looking through each one for a new secret to share.
“Xiao-Jiu,” Yue Qingyuan pressed. “Can Qi-ge help?”
The question echoed eerily to a similar question from their days together at the Qiu household.
The memories stopped shuffling.
And Shen Jiu knew what would come next.
The horrors of that household, both what had been inflicted upon him and what he’d chosen to inflict upon others.
“No,” Shen Jiu cried. He clutched at his head. “No, no, no, no.”
“Xiao-Jiu!”
The prickling inside his head got worse. It traveled throughout his body.
“I will not speak of it,” he whispered, as if begging the flower.
There was a sharp sting along his legs, and Shen Jiu’s lower half gave out. He fell entirely into Yue Qingyuan’s arms.
“Xiao-Jiu!”
Yue Qingyuan lowered them both to the ground, tucking Shen Jiu’s head against his chest.
Mu Qingfang rushed to them, dropping to his knees, as well.
“Shen-shixiong!” He took Shen Jiu’s wrist and tried to channel healing qi. After a moment, he dropped the hand and set a hand on Shen Jiu’s chest instead. “The qi’s not taking. The pain seems to be entirely psychological, which means there’s nothing I can do.”
“Try again,” Yue Qingyuan ordered.
“I am,” Mu Qingfang shot back. “Shen-shixiong, please, just speak what’s on your mind. Help the pain go away.”
“No,” Shen Jiu countered, voice shaking. He was barely aware of what was happening around him. His head was full of memories; memories he’d spent so long forgetting. There was nothing in this world that could make him share those moments with these people.
“No, no, no,” he repeated.
The pain kept rising. He couldn’t channel his own qi fast enough to stay afloat.
“Shen-shixiong,” a voice cried out for him.
“Xiao-Jiu!”
There was a wave of red, of unending pain, and Shen Jiu couldn’t do anything but accept it.
It felt as if all of his limbs were being ripped off.
As if his entire body were on fire.
And then he blacked out.
