Follow Your Passion: A Seamless Tumblr Journey
"That won't help you," A voice said from behind him, thin and lilting.
Shen Yuan nearly screamed in frustration and threw down the talismans he had been trying to activate with the drops of qi he had left. He had known that it wouldn't work, especially when the characters on them were barely even legible anymore, but he couldn't help but try. His blood had smeared them when he had collapsed onto the ground earlier, exhausted of everything he had and then some.
He had managed to crawl to a copse of trees and sat up against a tree trunk to figure something out, but it was futile.
"You're scared."
Shen Yuan shook his head desperately as if to rid his head of the voice that seemed to pierce his ears, tears spilling down his cheeks, before nodding just as furiously. "Of course I'm scared! I'm terrified. Don't you know how your story ends?"
"I do know. This one has lived it, again and again," The ghost of Shen Jiu said, tilting his head, face eerily blank. He didn't blink. He never did. "This one was due to relive it, for as long as it takes. That is, until you took my place. But it doesn't matter anymore."
"It doesn't matter anymore? You would say that," Shen Yuan said. He was beginning to feel a numbness overtake him, and thumped his head against the tree trunk behind him to try to snap back to himself. He couldn't float away now. Shen Jiu wouldn't be able to take over for him. It was too close to the finale. "You're already dead! And I'm still here. So what do you fucking know? "
"Not much, I admit." Shen Jiu floated closer, reaching out to him. "But I know that you can no longer run. And I was right, wasn't I?"
"What are you even talking about?" Shen Yuan picked up the sounds of movement in the far distance. It sounded like the footsteps of a person. Of multiple people. They were looking for him. And he had left an entire trail of blood, leading right to him.
"I told you, in the beginning, to make sure you knew what you were doing. And I told you that even if you hide"—an icy hand sunk into his chest—"it doesn't go away."
"I have... realized," Shen Qingqiu said, "that you technically indirectly killed dozens of teenagers. At the Immortal Alliance Conference." He glanced at his friend from the corner of his eye. The office had been quiet before then, though Shen Qingqiu's thoughts had been heavy with contemplation.
Shang Qinghua lifted his head from his paperwork to look at the other, eyes half-lidded and slightly dull. "It's so kind of Shen-shixiong to have realized this. It only took a few months after the Conference had already ended."
"...don't you feel guilty?"
"What is there to feel guilt about?" Shang Qinghua said nothing else, and when Shen Qingqiu did nothing but frown back at him, he went back to signing various forms. In the silence that followed, he sighed and continued, "Listen, I'm not a necessarily a good person. I'm selfish, and I want to live. If I have to choose between myself and random characters that I don't know, then I'll always choose myself."
Shen Qingqiu stared at him, before looking down at his lap, where one of his friend's written works lay in a scroll. Most of the other's writings that he had gotten to read were far better than the trash his web novel had devolved into, more comparable in quality to the early PIDW chapters. He was excited to read this one, but he hadn't opened it yet. "I wasn't saying it to condemn you. After all, I want to live, too." He shifted. "So, I guess I'm not a good person, either."
The An Ding Peak Lord immediately shook his head. "No, unlike me, you are a good person--"
"If I were a better person, I would've taken the point deduction and allowed myself to die at the edge of that Endless Abyss than do what I did."
Silence permeated the room. Shang Qinghua kept his eyes on his forms, though his hands remained still, while Shen Qingqiu continued to stare down at the scroll in his lap.
Finally, Shang Qinghua let out a dry laugh and put down his paperwork to pinch at the bridge of his nose. "Shen-shixiong, you sometimes irritate me, you know?" His voice was light, but there was something else in it, a barely noticeable tremor that made Shen Qingqiu look up. "You say these things, but you're sitting here, agonizing over the choices you've made to keep yourself alive. What does that say about you?"
What does it say about me, that I don't do the same? Shen Qingqiu sighed, fingers tightening around the edge of the scroll. "It says that I still have to live with it, the choice that I made."
"Then why are we even having this conversation? We both made our choices, and guilt or not, we're both still here, aren't we? Why think about it any further?"
Shen Qingqiu studied his friend, eyes tracing the exhausted droop of his eyes, the way tension clung to his slumped shoulders, despite his upright position. He had spent weeks turning it over in his head, wondering how his friend could stand the stain of blood on his hands, even if it meant that he got to live. But hadn't Shen Qingqiu done the exact same thing?
"Because it bothers you," Shen Qingqiu finally said. "Even if you say it doesn't."
Shang Qinghua scoffed and picked his brush back up, the black ink having already smeared all over his latest form. It would need to be discarded. "Don't make me laugh. I'm not some sort of anti-hero. I just know better than to waste time brooding over something I can't change. If it ever starts bothering me too much, I just tell myself that they were all meant to die, anyway."
"That's a bit cold, shidi."
"Don't try to pretend that you don't do the same mental gymnastics. You're just not as good at it as I am."
Shen Qingqiu couldn't argue with that. Sometimes, the world felt too real, and then not real enough. Shen Qingqiu would hear someone laugh, or taste a brilliantly seasoned dish, and everything felt too much and it all exploded before it turned dim. He would no longer be quite inside his body, and he would notice for the first time, again and again, how nothing was ever quite real.
It was a story. That's all it was. It was all just a story.
Shang Qinghua watched him for a moment, then sighed. "Shen-shixiong, if you ever figure out how to balance staying alive with being a good person, let me know."
"Oh?" Shen Qingqiu finally unrolled the scroll he had been holding for some time now. "And what would that accomplish?"
"Maybe then I’d consider feeling guilty."
"Why did you kill my brother?" Despite how most of her face was covered by a viel, Liu Mingyan's grey eyes alone held immeasurable hatred. She had been waiting, her grip on her sword white-knuckled, as if she was itching to cut him down where he stood.
Shen Jiu nearly flinched. The Old Palace Master had dragged introductions and the "testing" questions out long enough in order to make sure the serum was "working" and fighting his loose lips had take more of his willpower than he thought. Resisting drained the spare qi he had left circulating in his body. The Old Place Master had simply chuckled, enjoying the spectacle, and told him that it would be easier to answer.
He had wanted to laugh. Easier? No, it would be easier for them, but not for him. Not for anyone who had anything worth keeping buried. Any slip in his concentration and he would say something that he didn't want to. He was being run ragged, and they hadn't even gotten to the main plaintiffs that had demanded this whole trial in the first place, Liu Mingyan and Qiu Haitang.
(Seeing Tang'er made his heart pound in remembered affection. He didn't regret saving her.)
Why did you kill my brother? Lost in his thoughts, and with the serum clawing at his throat, Shen Jiu's mouth had opened without his notice.
"I didn't kill him." Silence fell.
Fuck.
"You-- what?" Liu Mingyan faltered, before her eyes hardened once more. "No, you killed him. Or you fatally injured him and then left him to die like the dishonorable wretch--"
"I didn't kill him." Shen Jiu desperately tried to shut his mouth but he was so tired. "He qi-deviated and attacked me, and I tried to save him. I poured myself into him, I nearly died giving everything that I had in my spiritual veins to save that brute from his own folly, but I failed. Just like--" He nearly bit through his tongue in his attempt to stop talking.
"Just like what?" Liu Mingyan demanded, stepping closer.
Shen Jiu clenched his teeth and his fists against the pull of the serum, sweating with the effort of restraining himself, but the words were ripped out, raw and vicious.
"Just like I always do," he spat, the bitterness thick in his throat. "I failed. I always fail."
"You expect me to beielve that? After everything, after how much you fought with him over the years, you want me to believe that you tried to save him?" The fire in Liu Mingyan's eyes hadn't died but there was something else now-- hesitation, confusion.
"I don't give a damn what you believe," he snarled, voice like a whipcrack through the silence. Liu Mingyan stepped back at his words. "If I had wanted him dead, I wouldn't have wasted my own energy trying to save his stupid, arrogant, bullheaded self from his own mistakes!"
His breath was uneven and he was shaking subtly. His tongue throbbed and his mouth was flooded with the taste of blood, his blood. If not for the immortal binding cables, Shen Jiu was sure that he would be on edge of a qi deviation.
"You're lying," Liu Mingyan finally said. There was a waver in her voice. "You're lying, you must be."
He had said too much. And yet, it wasn't enough. It never was.
"The truth serum doesn’t allow for that," Mu Qingfang murmured from the side, his voice dangerously quiet. So much for his "cause no harm" oaths. "Especially not with him being so drained of qi."
Shen Jiu let out a harsh, humorless laugh. "Exactly."
What was the point in telling the truth if no one ever believed him?
Shen Qingqiu glared at the Old Palace Master. He just knew that the bastard was smirking behind his raised sleeves, sure of his destruction. Well, given the truth serum that they had just forced down his throat for this sham of a trial, the Old Palace Master might be right, but Shen Qingqiu-- Shen Jiu had never gone down without a fight.
Still, it would be hard to resist the serum. They had forced him to take Hearts' Sorrow, which was notorious for not only forcing a person to answer truthfully, but also had a tendency to loosen the person's inhibitions so as to make it harder to control their emotions and the ability to keep their mouth shut.
Shen Jiu liked to pretend that he didn't have any emotions to exploit, his heart as cold as his face, however, he was already exhausted and stressed from the entire ordeal. His mind raced through the fog of the serum and the weakness induced by the immortal binding cables, yet the only real tactic he had at the moment was to quite literally bite his tongue so he couldn't speak.
He knew he had the bad habit of not explaining himself, of just letting people think what they wanted to think, which often lead to people just assuming the worst of him. He knew he wasn't a good person, either, so often, it was justified. After all, he had kicked that little beast down into the Abyss (though, he had considered it a favor rather than killing the beast, and look where that had gotten him).
But he still had things he wanted to protect. Even if Yue Qingyuan (Qi-ge) liked to pretend to not have started in the dirt like the slaves they used to be, he still refused to reveal anything that might harm the other.
He bit down harder and tasted iron.
Even if Qi-ge had abandoned him, Xiao Jiu would keep his promise.
Shen Qingqiu glared at the Old Palace Master. He just knew that the bastard was smirking behind his raised sleeves, sure of his destruction. Well, given the truth serum that they had just forced down his throat for this sham of a trial, the Old Palace Master might be right, but Shen Qingqiu-- Shen Jiu had never gone down without a fight.
Still, it would be hard to resist the serum. They had forced him to take Hearts' Sorrow, which was notorious for not only forcing a person to answer truthfully, but also had a tendency to loosen the person's inhibitions so as to make it harder to control their emotions and the ability to keep their mouth shut.
Shen Jiu liked to pretend that he didn't have any emotions to exploit, his heart as cold as his face, however, he was already exhausted and stressed from the entire ordeal. His mind raced through the fog of the serum and the weakness induced by the immortal binding cables, yet the only real tactic he had at the moment was to quite literally bite his tongue so he couldn't speak.
He knew he had the bad habit of not explaining himself, of just letting people think what they wanted to think, which often lead to people just assuming the worst of him. He knew he wasn't a good person, either, so often, it was justified. After all, he had kicked that little beast down into the Abyss (though, he had considered it a favor rather than killing the beast, and look where that had gotten him).
But he still had things he wanted to protect. Even if Yue Qingyuan (Qi-ge) liked to pretend to not have started in the dirt like the slaves they used to be, he still refused to reveal anything that might harm the other.
He bit down harder and tasted iron.
Even if Qi-ge had abandoned him, Xiao Jiu would keep his promise.
"Hello, Binghe," Shen Qingqiu said.
It had taken him a while to begin to speak after settling in front of the sword mound a shichen ago. "It wasn't you but, I guess... I just. I saw your face today. In your shishu, Shang Qinghua." Shen Qingqiu glanced down at his hands.
Shang Qinghua had laughed at something that Shen Qingqiu had said and all of a sudden, all he could see was Binghe, Binghe, Binghe in the wrinkle of Shang Qinghua's nose, in the bouncy curls of his hair, in the shine of his eyes.
"He's not you, of course, nor are you him. I know that. I told myself that." There was a soft rustling of leaves and a whisper of Shizun? into the wind, but when Shen Qingqiu looked up, searching for his lost disciple, there was nothing there but a breeze.
Another grief-induced hallucination, is what Mu Qingfang would call them, though Shen Qingqiu hesitated to say the same. That would meant things about his attachment to this world that he disliked to think about.
He sighed, and got to his feet. His other precious disciples had been hounding him about trying to do something other than stand in front of the sword mound, and he hated to see the looks on their faces when they caught him here again.
Before he left, he brushed a hand over the top of the mound and said, "Still. I can't help it when I see your Shang-shishu. You look so much like the one who created you." He turned and swept away.
Having hidden around the corner upon realizing Shen Qingqiu was lost in thought at A-Luo's grave again, Ning Yingying stared after her Shizun, not knowing what to think.
"I know who you pretend I am. I'm not him. Shen Jiu died, alright? That qi deviation killed him." Pleading. "I'm all that's left. You're all that's left."
Hesitation. "Then what is this? Where is this?"
"You're here with me." Soft.
"Where am I, if not with Xiao Jiu?" Grief.
"Here." Sorrow. "With me."
weird fic idea: A weird ass cult devoted to the Creator somehow decide that Shen Qingqiu is that Creator and, thus, kidnaps him. They feed him some truth serum and wait, hoping that he spills divine secrets and cosmic wisdom.
Shen Qingqiu, completely confused: "I have no idea why you think I’m some kind of god."
Cultists, gasping: "My Creator, you're so humble!"
Shen Qingqiu: "No, seriously. This is a mistake. Let me go."
Cultists, knowing he's under truth serum: "...?"
The peak lords break in to rescue him just in time for them to hear him accidentally insinuate that, while he was involved in helping form the world, he's not the Creator, Shang Qinghua is.
Shen Yuan is actually a cuddle bug. Had a ton of Luo Binghe body pillows back home not just for the merch reasons but because he needs something in his bed to squeeze when he's sleeping.
Since he started having weekly planning (boozing and bitching) sessions with Shang Qinghua, he sometimes accidentally sleeps over. After he's finished his paperwork and started on some of Qinghua's, sometimes the wine gets to him and he's just so sleepy. Or, sometimes, Shang Qinghua will let the other read some of the short stories he had written early on in his transmigration when fighting to not lose his mind. Shen Yuan would critique them, before harassing him to publish them anonymously.
("Oh, so you are capable of writing more than papapa trash."
"Aw, you like it?" "...it's good." 🙄)
But by the time he finished them, it would be so late, and it didn't make much sense to leave when a bed was right there. And Shang Qinghua had custom ordered goose feather pillows and blankets, which was so unlike his porcelain pillows, and Shang Qinghua himself is right there. Therefore. The man himself becomes his new object of comfort when asleep.
At first, Shang Qinghua used to just wave it off. Then he started to playfully complain and tease about how clingy Shen Yuan was in his sleep, and Shen Yuan would grumble and turn bright red and turn his back on him... only for them to wake up with Shen Yuan basically curled around the other like an octopus in the morning. And then it just became normal because, of course, they really only had each other, so like why not? It brought them both comfort and two people could totally cuddle platonically.
Before long, more than half the week, Shen Yuan was spending the night over, and some rare times, Shang Qinghua goes to the bamboo house. Shang Qinghua learns when to give up his piles of paperwork when his friend starts getting tired and to get more fucking rest himself. Otherwise, Shen Yuan will just walk in, curl up on his lap with his head resting on Shang Qinghua's shoulder, and fall asleep there.
("Really? I ordered those extra stuffed pillows for you, you know. Go to bed, I'll be done in a minute."
"Ugh, shut up, sleeping isn't the same when you're out here ordering new fighting posts for Bai Zhan Peak for the 5th time this month. I'll just wait here for you to finish."
"In my lap...? That's kinda gay--" 😏
"Qinghua."
"Shutting up and finishing the work." )
Those of An Ding Peak, being the peak that was basically the backbone of the entire sect and kept it running through sweat, blood, and some other bodily fluids, knew how to keep secrets from other peaks. You don't become a disciple there without knowing how to keep your mouth shut when outsiders are around. But between each other, whispers abound.
"I don't think Shen-shibo has left in two days," one disciple murmurs to another when they see Shen Qingqiu flouncing around yet again, ordering one of the disciples to bring some two small meals to their Shifu's rooms for a late dinner.
"Do you think they're... you know?" Another asks quietly after delivering some new contracts to their Shifu. The door to his bedroom had been slightly ajar, and through the cracks, green leaf-pattern outer robes were on the ground.
("I'm not sleeping in these, okay! You should have written in pajamas while you were busy adding in chocolate, and whatever else doesn't exist in Ancient China, to PIDW!" 😒
"Oh my god, just sleep in your inner robes, then! Better yet, borrow some of my clothes. But you're sure as fuck not sleeping naked on my silk sheets, bro!")
The disciples on Qing Jing Peak certainly notice when the bamboo hut isn't occupied for the night. At first, they just thought that their Shizun was extra silent in his house now, but once, Ming Fan had to go to Shizun for a small issue late in the evening, and he wasn't there. Nor was he there the next night, or the next. They're not sure where he is, or what he's doing, but he's always there in the morning, so they don't worry too much.
On the fourth night, Shizun was home, but Shang-shishu was also there. And... stayed there. The lights went out, and the disciples who were sent out to spy came back and reported that Shang-shishu had never left.
("He... is Shang-shishu still in there?"
"I think so. M-maybe he stayed in the extra bedroom?"
"..." 👀
"..." 👀)
The disciples eye each other and simultaneously agree to never let those outside the peak know about this. When crossing paths with A Ding disciples, there are discreet looks and nods of understanding, and they pass each other by with not a word.
(Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua?)
----
One bright and sunny morning, Liu Qingge slams his way into Shang Qinghua's office. He is followed by Mu Qingfang, and Yue Qingyuan, all needing to speak with Shang Qingqua to figure out Shen Qingqiu's whereabouts. He wasn't in his bamboo hut this morning, nor was he anywhere else that he typically frequented.
Mu Qingfang because it was time for his bimonthly check-up to ensure that his treatments with Liu Qingge were progressing as they should. Yue Qingyuan due to peak matters (though, technically, he could do it on his own, but if he got to see Xiao Jiu--). Liu Qingge because the beast that he had dropped on his doorstep yesterday afternoon had yet to be removed, which was odd. And also, he had ordered new fighting posts a week ago, and usually they would have been delivered by now, which was also odd.
Wei Qingwei and Qi Qingqi also follow along because they could smell drama. And also they were a tiny bit worried about their shixiong. Whenever he disappeared for too long, it was likely that he had gotten kidnapped or poisoned. Again.
Shang Qinghua scrambles out of his bed chambers with hastily thrown-on outer robes, blurry-eyed, screaming "Whoosit!?" He barely has time to open his mouth before he is instantly bombarded with several requests, most of them pertaining to the apparent missing peak lord. Liu Qingge also asks about his fighting posts, which Shang Qinghua pretends not to hear.
"We've not seen him in a few days," Mu Qingfang says to him over the noise, with an apologetic smile for waking up his overworked shixiong. "I know you two are somewhat friends, so if you see him soon, please tell him he really needs to come to Qian Cao for his next physical."
"Wait, who's missing? Ah, please don't touch that." The last part is directed at Qi Qingqi, who is combing through his shelves. "Shen Qingqiu is apparently missing, according to this bunch," Qi Qingqi says, smirking at him. She pokes the figurine he told her not to touch. Oh well, she'll realize why he told her not to touch it soon enough.
"Shen Qingqiu? What do you mean, he's--" Shang Qinghua instantly closes his mouth, hoping that no one heard that. "I-I mean, yeah, I'll let you guys know if he stops by! No problem, will absolutely send him your way--" "What was that?" Liu Qingge narrows his eyes at him. "You were about to say something. You know where he is. Tell me."
Shang Qinghua begins to sweat immediately. "Whaaat? No, you must have heard wrong. Seriously, I'll let you guys know if I catch him. Now, if you guys can be on your way--" He starts trying to herd people out.
Unbeknownst to him, his bedroom door cracks open and a figure, eyes barely open, shuffles out and heads towards him. Wei Qingwei, idling in the office, is the first to notice the person wearing another set of An Ding Blue outer robes over soft Qing Jing Green inner ones. His jaw drops.
"Qinghua?" A soft, sleepy voice murmurs in his ear, arms circling around his waist and a head laying on his shoulder from behind. "It's too early, come back to bed." A small yawn.
Shang Qinghua can feel himself freeze with a nervous smile on his face.
Shit.
Wait guys, food for thought!
In MZDS, only the most powerful cultivators become immortal. In a crossover, wouldn’t that make Shang Qinghua more powerful than literally every MZDS character because he’s not only immortal, but a Peak Lord? Would there be legends about him and the other Peak Lords, since they’re immortal cultivators like Baoshan Sanren?