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The Cang Qiong Peak Lords were gathered around the table, all watching the orb that rested in the middle of it. A perfectly round thing, seemingly made out of the clearest of crystal; a masterwork of craftsmanship. Beautiful, as it shimmered in the sunlight coming in through the window. Beautiful, except for the pitch-black insides, shifting and twisting like a living thing.

“So. What is that?” Qi Qingqi finally asked.

It had been brought by Liu Qingge, something he had stumbled upon during a nighthunt. The man only shrugged.

Li Qinglai, the lord of the Artifact Peak, leaned over the table, eyeing it with fascination. “Whatever it is, it’s powerful. Feel the qi coming of it?”

“Well, don’t touch it,” Shen Qingqiu spat out as Li Qinglai’s hand hovered above it. “If you want to risk your own hide, do it on your own peak.”

Rolling his eyes, Li Qinglai replied, “You worry too much, Shen-shixiong. I don’t tell you how to run the sect library, now do I?” With that, he sent a spark of qi into it.

“You idiot-”

Before anyone could say anything else, the orb flashed. Slowly, it made a full spin. The peak lords watched, some in fascination and some with wariness. It spun yet another time before freezing.

Without warning, it shot off. Shen Qingqiu moved to draw Xiu Ya as it came straight for him, but before he could, a hand shot out. The flat palm cupped the orb, put with a straight arm, struggled to keep it still. He turned to glare at his sect leader, opening his mouth to tell him he did not need his help. The moment he averted his gaze, the orb increased its strength.

Yue Qingyuan’s hand was pushed back. It hit Shen Qingqiu in the face.

There was a bright light.

Thick layers of fabric. That was, for some reason, what impeded Xiao Jiu’s sight and movement. Silk, probably. What the fuck? Had he passed out on Qiu Haitang’s floor again, and she’d decided to cover him up for some reason? She did do a lot of things he couldn’t make sense of. But no, these weren’t her colours. She favoured pastels, and these were dark. Green, perhaps?

Those thoughts flew through his mind for a second before he realized people were yelling.

“Zhangmen-shixiong! Shen-shixiong!” “Where did they go?!”

He froze. None of those voices were familiar, nor were the titles. Meaning, he was surrounded by strangers. And, he realized with growing horror, he himself was not wearing anything underneath these large swathes of fabric. His own clothes were nowhere to be seen.

For a moment, he wondered if he could just stay hidden here, but then hands grabbed at them, forcing him upright. Wide eyes met his own as he stared at the stranger holding him. A man. A man in fine red robes with grey streaks in his curly hair and scars on both his hands and face. Burn scars, he noted absently.

“Shixiong?” the man asked, voice full of disbelief.

Xiao Jiu’s breath caught in his throat as he quickly averted his eyes. Staring, or even glaring, at Qiu Jianluo was one thing. The man was a known factor, as were the consequences. But the voices of his master, and of the slavers, echoed in his mind. A slave does not look at his betters, unless told to do so. He had no idea what this man might consider appropriate punishment for his transgressions. Maybe he was the type who’d rather just kill a slave acting up. But no, he couldn’t, right? Qiu Jianluo would be mad if someone killed his property. Right?

Survival was the only thing that mattered. He struggled to his knees before bowing, pressing his forehead against the floor. The scabbed over whip marks on his back smarted, but it was a common enough pain that it was easy to ignore. He always had to around Qiu Haitang, anyway. She could never find out.

“This lowly one apologizes,” he forced out. The words tasted like ash on his tongue. “This lowly one-”

A hand grabbed at the collar loose around his neck, forcing him into an awkward half-standing position. Xiao Jiu flinched, and hated himself for showing such weakness. “Shen Qingqiu! What the hell are you playing at!”

It was another man. This one was dressed almost exclusively in white – stupidly wasteful – and from what he saw as his eyes flickered upwards for a second, incredibly beautiful. Rich and pretty, and a man. A combination that always ended badly for him.

A weak voice from the group behind, from a small, mousey man – well, small in comparison to the others, he was still plenty tall – in blue, said, “Oh fuck- Everyone, perhaps we should lea-”

“Shen Qingqiu! Answer me!” He shook Xiao Jiu as he spoke, and that, of all things, made it obvious he was speaking to him.

“Surely the master realizes that this lowly slave’s name isn’t something as distinguished as that,” he spat. Not to mention the Qiu-character. He’d rather die, actually.

“This... what?”

“Begging the master’s forgiveness,” said a beloved voice, and a familiar shape carefully moved in front of Xiao Jiu, making the man release him. Xiao Jiu’s eyes widened.

Qi-ge’s gaze was on the floor, respectful, and he knelt, lowering himself into a bow, but he remained firmly in place in front of Xiao Jiu. “These lowly slaves do not know what or who you speak of.”

That stupid, stupid idiot, putting himself in front of Xiao Jiu like that, risking these people’s fury. Once they were alone, he would scream at him for taking a risk like that.

Where had he even come from? Qiu Jianluo didn’t let them see each other.

It didn’t matter. The tremble in his body finally subsidized. Qi-ge was here, too. Then it was fine. Anything was fine, as long as they were together.

The whispers started up again. This time, he could hear them clearly, and there was one word that was repeated over and over again. “Slaves?” The voices were shocked, but some of them were filled with disgust. Of course they were, why wouldn’t these rich assholes be disgusted by filthy, rotten little slaves?

Xiao Jiu bent himself into a new bow as well behind Qi-ge. Were these people stupid? Obviously they were slaves. And obviously these people had to know that, or else why would they be here! He lowered his head enough that his loose hair would cover his face, and only then did he allow himself to scowl.

“Zhangmen-shixiong?” asked the first man, the red-clad one. His voice was bewildered, yet carefully measured. “....Yue Qi?”

“Yes, Immortal Master?-” Immortal? These were cultivators? “-How can this one be of service?” Qi-ge's mild voice replied. He was good at that, in a way that Xiao Jiu had never been. Never would be. Good at pushing down all the rage and the hatred, appearing only sweet and biddable in front of those who could do them harm. Hoping, uselessly, that being good would stop the pain. Stupid. There was no such thing as a good slave. The best they could hope for was that people would consider them so disgusting they did not want to even touch them.

Only Xiao Jiu got to see the part of Qi-ge that wanted to tear everyone who had ever hurt them into pieces. Not even the other slaves did.

A third person joined the fray. Another man. There were so many men here. The realization settled coldly in Xiao Jiu’s bones. This one wore pale greens and light blues, from what he could tell. He could only see the hems of the floor-length robes with his head bowed.

“Do you remember how you got here?” the new voice asked. It was almost as mild as Qi-ge's, but that meant nothing. The nicest men could be the cruelest: Qiu Jianluo was proof of that, with how he acted around his sister versus everywhere else. “Liu-shixiong, stop glaring.”

Qi-ge shook his head. “This one apologizes, Immortal Master. He does not.”

“And your... friend?”

Xiao Jiu shook his head. “This slave does not. Begging forgiveness,” he grit out.

“How old are you?”

This question was difficult to answer. Because they didn’t really know. No one bothered to keep track of slave children’s birth years. But they had their guesses, at least, and they were somewhat more clear on Xiao Jiu’s age than Qi-ge's, since Qi-ge had been able to guess his age when they met.

“This one is fifteen, probably,” Qi-ge replied. “Shen Jiu is twelve.”

“Do you know where you are?”

Once again, the answer was negative. Xiao Jiu’s back was aching from being bent. He hoped that the scabs wouldn’t break. If he bled all over these fine fabrics, he might as well just throw himself upon one of these cultivators’ swords. It’d probably be less painful.

The man sighed softly upon receiving their reply. “You are at Qiong Ding Peak, the first peak of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. This one is Mu Qingfang, Lord of Qian Cao Peak. I am the sect’s head healer.”

Cang Qiong? They were at the largest, most powerful sect in the world? Xiao Jiu’s heart stuttered. What the fuck was going on? Why would Qiu Jianluo send him here, especially together with Qi-ge? What did these powerful men want with them? Anything they could do would surely be worse than what a regular mortal noble, like Qiu Jianluo, could. And Qiu Jianluo would never let him go somewhere without planning for his suffering.

The childish, stupid dream of coming here to become powerful cultivators with Qi-ge slipped away.

“These lowly ones greet Lord Mu,” Qi-ge murmured politely, with just a hint of reverence. The correct way of speaking to a high-ranked cultivator, Xiao Jiu thought bitterly. “May this one ask a question?”

“Of course, Yue Qi. As many as you want. Shen Jiu too. And please, both of you, sit up.”

They both did, and Xiao Jiu could breathe easier as his back and arms no longer were quite as hard at work keeping him upright. It was exhausting to bow, especially with how empty his stomach was. The Qius didn’t want him to starve to death, so he ate more now than he used to, but he still had not had a meal in two days. Punishment, for resisting his master. That and the whipping.

Qi-ge's shoulders lowered in relief as he was allowed to sit properly as well. He was strong, physically stronger than Xiao Jiu, but he too would get tired from bowing for too long. A kowtow was humiliating, but at least it was not as exhausting. You could rest your body on the ground.

“Thanking Lord Mu for his generosity,” he replied. “Did Young Master Qiu lend us out?”

The whispers started up again, and Xiao Jiu lent them his ears while he waited for Lord Mu to reply. Many of them were Young Master Qiu?, “Who’s that? And Have any of you heard that name before? So the answer to Qi-ge's question appeared to be no. Whether that was good or bad, Xiao Jiu couldn’t tell. He swallowed. If these people didn’t even know who Qiu Jianluo was, then they would not be hindered by his wishes for his property not to be permanently damaged, and definitely not by Qiu Haitang’s fondness for him. But being at Qiu Manor had been worse than being a beggar slave. At least Qi-ge had been with him then; and he was here, now. If these cultivators would allow it to remain so, he’d withstand any treatment.

“No,” the red-clad man replied in place of Lord Mu. He bowed – bowed!? - lightly to them and smiled. There wasn’t much genuine about the smile, though. “It appears that none of us know who that is.”

“Then why are we here?” The question slipped out before Xiao Jiu could stop it. Even though he knew he was supposed to let Qi-ge talk instead, because Qi-ge didn’t make people angry just by existing. He wasn’t rotten like him. “Young Master Qiu would never have let me go.”

Lord Mu sighed. “Shen Jiu, do you know anything about curses?”

Narrowing his eyes, he nodded. He wasn’t stupid. Qi-ge even said he probably was smarter than most noblemen. Since he only had Qiu Jianluo and his father to judge that by, Xiao Jiu definitely agreed with that assessment.

“You both were recently hit by one.”

They were cursed? He stared at the back of Qi-ge's head, at the way he too tensed.

“Normally,” Lord Mu said, “you are both adults. You have not seen this... Young Master Qiu in many years, I would presume. Though of course I would never pry into my Sect Leader’s and Shen-shixiong's private business.”

“Sect leader?” Qi-ge's careful voice asked. Measured and polite.

“That’s you,” the red-clad man replied. “This Wei-shidi greets Zhangmen-shixiong. Shen-shixiong is the Peak Lord of our second peak, Qing Jing. The sect’s second-in-command.”

Xiao Jiu stared at them. They had got to be fucking kidding him. Rage clouded his sight. How dare they. How dare they try to trick them into believing something so cruel. That they had managed to rise so far above the gutters they’d been born into, that so many had rubbed their faces in the dirt of. These cultivators wanted him to believe that two filthy slaves had become two of the most powerful people in the world? He wanted to laugh. He wanted to scream. Most of all he wanted to wrap his hands around this Wei-shidi's neck and snap it.

Not that he ever could manage to hurt a cultivator.

It was so unfair. But what else was new?

The universe just hated him. Everyone and everything did, except Qi-ge.

Lord Mu interrupted this train of thought. “I understand that this might be difficult to believe. We can discuss it more later. I would like to make sure you both are okay. Will you be okay accompanying me to my peak for a medical examination?”

It was phrased like a question, but no one ever asked a slave for permission. Xiao Jiu bowed his head as Qi-ge replied, “Whatever Lord Mu wishes.”

Thus came the deeply unsettling process of having to reach Qian Cao Peak. Many of the cultivators followed them outside. Xiao Jiu and Qi-ge both tried to bundle up the robes they were wearing, but it was heavy and cumbersome. They were much too long, and they both stumbled, with much of them dragging in the filth on the ground. There was no way the robes wouldn’t be stained, and Xiao Jiu was bracing himself for a beating. But the only other option would be to undress, and he would not allow these people to see him in any lack of clothing.

Lord Mu stepped up on his sword, and held a hand out for Qi-ge. With a nervous glance at Xiao Jiu, Qi-ge obeyed, taking it and stepping up on the sword in front of Lord Mu. Wei-shidi – presumably Lord Wei – offered the same to Xiao Jiu, but when the hand reached out for him, he flinched back. His skin crawled at the thought of touching the man. Like a thousand bugs were sneaking around under it. Instinctively, his gaze flickered to one of the women in the group. None of them were watching him with compassion, but that would have been too much to expect. Still....

“...Ah.” Lord Mu said. “Qi-shijie, could you take him?”

The woman, Lady Qi, scowled. “Typical. Of course Shen Qingqiu would-”

“...Qi-shimei,” a weak voice interrupted. A man Xiao Jiu vaguely recognized as having spoken before swallowed. The mouse-looking man. “He’s a child. I doubt it’s about that.”

Another woman stepped forward. “I will take him. He looks much too frightened of Wei-shixiong.”

Xiao Jiu bowed his head in humiliation, ears burning red where they thankfully were hidden by his hair.

But he couldn’t help but be relieved when the woman put down her sword, and helped him up on it. “I am Guo Qingan, lord of Zui Xian Peak.”

Xiao Jiu bowed as much as he dared without risking falling off the sword, which was hovering centimeters over the ground. “This slave thanks Lady Guo.”

Being on top of a sword made his stomach drop the same way that missing a step in a staircase did. Especially as they slowly went higher. Lady Guo kept a steady grip on his shoulder, and he was grateful that she had offered. Doing this with a man would’ve been so much worse. A woman probably wouldn’t push him off to fall to his death, or take liberties with where she would touch. Hah, liberties. That would imply that there was anywhere anyone weren’t actually allowed to touch.

Once he got used to the sensation, though, he managed to have a look around at the view. And what a view. The twelve peaks of the mountain spread out around them, rainbow bridges connecting them. Each mountain was distinct; the one they had just left was covered in pine forest, another in bamboo. Some were rockier, with buildings and training areas spread out on the uneven terrain. On one, he got the faint impression of beasts wandering around in pastures. Not regular farm animals, but monsters, considering he had never seen a cow that big.

Even beyond the mountain, there were farmland and meadows as far as the eye could go, interspersed with lakes and rivers. Xiao Jiu was a city rat. Whenever they’d travelled to a new town, the slaves had been locked inside a caravan, packed so tight they could barely move. He had never seen anything like this before. There were multiple towns at the bottoms of the peaks, but even they looked less filthy than any he had seen before. Perhaps it was just the bird’s view that made them beautiful. Every town had beggars and slaves, and filth for them to be shoved into.

Lady Guo chuckled at his awe, but it wasn’t cruel. It reminded him of Qiu Haitang, whenever he did something that she found particularly quaintly charming. He didn’t like it, but he also didn’t hate it.

When they went downwards, it was to a peak that seemed to barely have a speck of dust on its paved squares and streets. Fruit blossom trees lined them, and the gardens everywhere had signs that marked each row. Xiao Jiu couldn’t read all of them, but some he recognized as medical herbs. Which made sense, if they were at the medical peak. The most striking thing, though, were the dozens upon dozens of disciples scurrying everywhere, dressed in pale greens and blues and hair neatly tied back. They carried scrolls or ceramic jars, and many of them near ignored their peak lord, giving him only a nod, apparently too busy to pay proper respect. Only a few, those who were not half-running, stopped to properly bow.

Hopping off the sword as soon as he could, Xiao Jiu considered if he was supposed to offer his hand to help Lady Guo the way he would have Qiu Haitang, but decided against it. She was a cultivator, not a spoiled young lady. Instead, he turned to check on Qi-ge, whose eyes were wide with the same wonder that he had felt in the air. The moment Xiao Jiu had stepped back on the ground though, the reality of the situation had set back in.

Nodding at him, Lady Guo stayed on her sword. “I will leave you in Mu-shixiong's capable hands, Shen-shixiong.”

She didn’t sound like she was open to being argued with by someone like him, so he swallowed against the pit of his stomach that came at the thought of being left alone with a powerful man – even if Qi-ge was there too – and bowed. “This one thanks Lady Guo for her assistance.”

Another nod, and she was off. Xiao Jiu turned just in time for Qi-ge to grab his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Qi-ge knew, of course, how little Xiao Jiu trusted men. Well. Not how little, because he never planned on telling him everything that had happened to him at Qiu Manor, but he had some idea.

“This way,” Lord Mu told them, and they followed. Disciples glanced at them in confusion, seeing two in much too large robes. At least that was all they saw, not two slaves. Xiao Jiu did not doubt that a fair few of these kids themselves came from homes that owned some.

They were brought to a beautiful house of pale grey stone and taken inside. The first room appeared to be a sitting room or parlour of some kind, presumably for hosting guests. Before he stepped inside as well, Lord Mu spoke to one of the disciples who rushed off.

“I have sent for new clothing for you. I should’ve brought that up with Shang-shixiong before we left, of course. But for now, it’s better that you wear Qian Cao disciple uniforms than those robes. We can arrange proper clothing for you later.”

Qi-ge bowed briefly. “Thank you, Lord Mu.”

With a faint smile, Lord Mu said, “You can call me Mu-shidi, you know.”

“...Does Mu.... shidi insist?” Qi-ge asked anxiously. The thought of speaking so impolitely to an unknown, powerful man was probably as horrible a thought to him as it was to Xiao Jiu. Formality was the only thing they had to protect themselves.

“Only if you want to. You can keep calling me Lord Mu if it makes you more comfortable.”

Qi-ge relaxed. “It is only proper. These lowly slaves should not presume to dare call Lord Mu something like that.”

“You aren’t slaves anymore.” Lord Mu’s voice was kind. It made Xiao Jiu want to bare his teeth like a feral animal. It wasn’t true, anyway. Even if they were freed, they’d always be slave class. Being owned like cattle wasn’t something they would ever be allowed to forget. Barely more than a farm animal, worth less than a beloved pet. “But I do need to do a check-up on you. If you could both undress down to your trousers, please.”

Xiao Jiu tore at the robes. They were already ruined, anyway. Pulling them off himself with ruthless efficiency. Semi-nudity wasn’t something he was comfortable with – he hated when people got to look at his body – but it was not uncommon. For as long as he could remember, before the Qiu Manor, he and the other slaves had been washed by simply making them undress and then pouring buckets of water over them. Nudity was a horrible, disgusting normalcy. At least that had been a slight improvement at the manor. The water was still cold, but he had been allowed to wash on his own in a small tub.

They were soon wearing only the too-large pants, pulling the drawstrings as tight as they would. They still sat loose, and he had to hold them to avoid them slipping down. The same went for Qi-ge. But he got the chance to look Qi-ge over properly for the first time in over a year. He was even thinner than Xiao Jiu, since the Qius didn’t have the same investment in keeping him alive, but his skin was less marred. There were bruises, and a few mostly healed whip marks. His wrist had a collar of marks around it, like someone had been gripping it much too hard. Qi-ge looked back at him, horror and sorrow visible on his face. Xiao Jiu knew he looked worse.

Of course, his ribs could still be counted from a distance, stomach jutting in disgustingly. His back, and the upper parts of his arms, were marked by layers upon layers of whip marks. His neck... anyone who looked closely could see that the bruises came from bites. He refused to think about that and was just darkly grateful that the bruises and markings on his thighs were not exposed. Every bit of skin on his body was marred with bruising, cuts, or other injuries. Everything except his face and hands, because those were the parts Qiu Haitang got to see. When his neck was marked, Qiu Jianluo made sure he wore high-necked robes.

“Xiao Jiu...” Qi-ge whispered, which made Lord Mu blink with something like recognition.

When he looked them over, his expression remained genial, but there was shock in his eyes.

“What?” Xiao Jiu spat.

“May I check your meridians?” was the only response, just as mild as everything else Lord Mu had said. “You’ll need to let me touch your wrist. It might feel a little weird, but it won’t hurt.”

Without a word, Qi-ge offered up his arm. Lord Mu put two fingers near where one would measure someone’s pulse. Qi-ge's eyes widened, and Xiao Jiu twitched, looking for any sign of real discomfort. He would bite Lord Mu if he had to, his teeth were sharp. But when it was done, Qi-ge just looked somewhat discombobulated, not like he was in any pain. So Xiao Jiu followed, as he always did. When Lord Mu touched him, a spark of qi flushed through his body, and he could follow its movement through his veins. It was weird. But... it didn’t hurt, just like Lord Mu had promised.

“Are you certain of your ages?” he asked as he worked, or whatever it was he was doing. He looked concerned. “I would have said that Shen-shixiong is ten at most, and Zhangmen-shixiong fourteen.”

Qi-ge nodded. “I... could be a year older or younger? But I’ve known Xiao Jiu for ten years. He wasn’t a baby when I met him.”

Smiling through his apparent concern, Lord Mu pulled back. “Your meridians are unharmed, thankfully. It does not seem that there will be any lasting damage.” Then the smile turned into something slightly more like a grimace as he looked over their bodies. Xiao Jiu glared back. “You need medical treatment for your injuries though. Please excuse me for a moment, I will go get my tools and the appropriate medicines.”

He disappeared into one of the other rooms, leaving the two of them alone.

As soon as the door closed, Qi-ge scrambled over to him, throwing his arms around his neck. They were warm and familiar, and careful not to aggravate the wounds. Xiao Jiu sank into it. It had been so long. He had missed this so much, even though he’d never admit it out loud. But he didn’t think he needed to. Qi-ge would know. He breathed in Qi-ge's familiar scent, and put his arms around his back. For a moment, everything was right in the world.

“Xiao Jiu, Xiao Jiu, Xiao Jiu,” Qi-ge rambled, whispering it reverently into his ear. True reverence, honest, unlike the polished way with which he spoke to their new masters, or whoever these people were. “Thank the heavens you’re okay. I’ve been so worried, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to see you-”

“Shut up, Qi-ge,” Xiao Jiu muttered back. “I’ve told you so many times not to be stupid.”

A soft laugh. “You know I can’t help it, Xiao Jiu. Qi-ge is stupid.”

“He is. That’s why you’re so lucky to have me.”

Qi-ge nodded against him. “The luckiest,” he whispered lovingly. “Xiao Jiu is so, so clever. Your Qi-ge would be lost without you.”

“I’m fine,” he said then, knowing Qi-ge wouldn’t be able to relax until he’d gotten the reassurance. “Qiu Jianluo hasn’t done anything I can’t handle. Are you?”

“I am, I promise. They don’t care that much about me. As long as I do my work, I’m mostly left alone.”

Good. Qi-ge was soft. If he had been the one to catch Qiu Jianluo’s obsession, there was no telling what it would have done to him. While he could endure as well as any other slave who’d made it all the way to almost-adulthood, he would be changed by it. Unlike Xiao Jiu, who was too stubborn, like a cockroach. He’d break before he bent, and that was something he had known his whole life. If Qiu Jianluo wanted him to change, he would have do something so terrible there was no coming back from it. So it was better, that it was Xiao Jiu who was inside the manor and Qi-ge who did all the things a regular, unnoticed slave did.

Pulling away from the hug when the closeness was beginning to feel like too much, Xiao Jiu said, “Calm down, you’re strangling me. Just keep doing what you always do. You’re so disgustingly obedient. It’ll keep you out of trouble, probably.”

“As Xiao Jiu wishes.” Qi-ge's eyes were soft. They were the colours of chestnut shells, and Xiao Jiu had always loved that. When they were starving and watching the wanted, loved children on the street beg their parents for treats, at least Xiao Jiu had always had Qi-ge's eyes, the same colour as those sweet-smelling foods sold at the market.

“You’re such a pushover. Grow a spine.”

“But Xiao Jiu likes it when I do whatever he says.”

Glaring, Xiao Jiu scoffed and turned away. But only for a second. Then he had to turn back again. Not wanting to waste a moment with him, because they could run out at any moment.

Lord Mu cleared his throat as he returned, surprising them by politely giving them a warning that he was here again instead of silently trying to catch them in the act of disobedience. Both of them sat up abruptly, and bowed as Lord Mu stepped back into the room.

Lord Mu, bewilderingly, bowed back.

It was unsettling. Like the world had turned upside down. Now, two different cultivators had bowed to them today. It was all wrong. And yet, a part of him preened under it. Gleeful to be shown that sort of respect.

Most of him was suspicious, though. That whole lie of them being adult powerful cultivators made no sense. Why would they try to convince them of that? Why would they treat them with this kind of respect, when they could easily just force them to do whatever they wanted? And even if it was true – which it couldn’t be – then Xiao Jiu knew that none of these people would actually like him. Unlike Qi-ge, he just wasn’t the kind of person people enjoyed spending time around. He was rude, and violent, and mean. Spiteful and hateful. So even if it was true, they had no reason to want to be nice to him. Although he supposed that if Qi-ge was the sect leader, they did at least have to not be too terribly awful, since if Qi-ge became a powerful adult again and found out his subordinates had been cruel to his Xiao Jiu, he would be pissed. Qi-ge was always angry when people were awful to Xiao Jiu. It was just that he never could do anything about it.

“May this master take care of Shen Jiu’s wounds?” Lord Mu asked, setting down his supplies. There were ointments, bandages, jars, and soft cloths. Xiao Jiu stared at it, uncomprehending. Was all that to be used just for them?

“What does Lord Mu want in return?” he asked suspiciously.

“This master wants only for his shixiongs to be healthy and well,” came the reply. “This master is a healer first of all, and will not sit idle while someone is suffering on his peak. There is no repayment required. Qian Cao often hold free clinics down in the villages as well for the common people. Yue-shixiong was very pleased with the idea when this master and Shang-shixiong brought it to him.”

That was too good to be true. But again. Why would they lie to them? There was no point to it, unless it was a very elaborate rug-pull. But that seemed much too much effort to waste on some slaves. So he nodded slowly, and sat still. Allowing Lord Mu to come over. It wasn’t like he could stop Lord Mu from doing anything he wanted anyway, and the illusion of control was better than the alternative.

The man’s movement were efficient and superficial as he cleaned the wounds before applying ointments and bandages. There wasn’t a single touch that was out of place, that lingered where it shouldn’t, and he explained everything he was doing in a low voice the entire time. Xiao Jiu had never been attended by a healer before, but he couldn’t imagine this was the norm. The medicines stung when they slipped into the wounds, making him hold in a hiss, but the bandages steadied him. Qi-ge watched protectively the entire time.

Then it was Qi-ge's turn, and he sat still and didn’t complain either as he was patched up. At the end of it, they were both covered in bandages and balms, so much that you barely could see the bare skin of their chests or arms.

“We’ll change the bandages every day until you’re back to normal,” Lord Mu told them. “Do you have any questions? About your health, or about the situation in general.”

They were silent. But then Qi-ge took a deep breath. “Will Lord Mu explain what happened?”

The man nodded. “Of course. Liu-shixiong had brought back an object, and we were all gathered to find out what it was. Shen-shixiong-” He nodded to Xiao Jiu. “-made his opinion clear that no one should touch it, but unfortunately, our shidi did not take his advice. It went for Shen-shixiong, and as Zhangmen-shixiong attempted to protect him, he was caught in the curse as well. I am sure that our sect siblings are working hard to figure out how to undo this curse. Wei-shixiong is the third-in-command of the sect, so he has surely taken charge now. He’s very reliable, and very loyal.”

Xiao Jiu grumbled. “Well, if you’re not lying, then all of our sect siblings are idiots. Who the fuck touches a random magical object?! That’s clearly going to get someone cursed.”

“Shen-shixiong is right as always,” Lord Mu said. Qi-ge grinned.

It knocked on the door, and Lord Mu went over to answer. The disciple from earlier was back, carrying two bundles of clothing. Lord Mu took them, thanking her, and when the door closed, he handed them over to them. “You can get dressed in the next room. Please do not touch anything that you do not know what it is. This is my private residence, so there are some magical objects lying around here as well, not to mention medical tools and medicines.”

They nodded, and bowed, doing as told. The room they were pointed to was small, mainly furnished with a wardrobe, a lounging chair, and a large bed. A guest room, perhaps. Xiao Jiu frowned. “What do you think, Qi-ge? This can’t be true. But it’s so... elaborate.”

“It’s... unbelievable,” Qi-ge agreed. He bit his lip, staring around the room. “But it’s almost as unbelievable that the Peak Lords of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect would take in two slaves with amnesia, trick them into thinking they’re peak lords too, and give them medical treatment for free. That’s insane. Who would do that, and why? And... The Qius wouldn’t get rid of you, would they?”

“....No. Haitang wants to marry me. And Qiu Jianluo thinks I’m too much fun to get rid of, even if it wouldn’t hurt his precious sister.” He scowled. “I’m not convinced he’s not looking to fuck both of us once Haitang is old enough. He’s weird about her.”

Qi-ge paled in horror. Disgust was written on his face, but not as much as the fear was. He grasped Xiao Jiu’s hand. “Then we’ll do whatever we need to do to stay here. We’ll play along, if that’s what they want. And if they’re not lying, if the Qius are still around, once I’m an adult again I am going to kill him.”

“If we’re cultivators, he’s dead,” Xiao Jiu said flatly. “He wouldn’t have allowed that. He died, or I killed him.”

“Good.”

Lord Mu was still waiting, though, so Xiao Jiu made Qi-ge turn away as he undressed entirely. Qi-ge seemed confused but was obedient. He always was. Which was lucky, because there was no way in hell he would get to see the injuries the pants were hiding. The robes were simple. Pants, a narrow-sleeved robe and undershirt, bracers, and a basic sash. All in pale greens and blues, colours good for healing. But they were soft on his skin, and he liked how they looked on him as he looked in a polished bronze mirror. Green did fit him, for sure. Though he thought he’d prefer a deeper, darker one. This was too reminiscent of Qiu Haitang. Too... feminine.

When he was done, Qi-ge was dressed as well. Xiao Jiu smiled. “Handsome.”

Flushing red, Qi-ge mumbled, “Not as handsome as Xiao Jiu. He's beautiful.”

True enough, he knew he had a pretty face. It had caused him more trouble than it was worth, for sure. But his heart warmed. He liked that Qi-ge thought so. And Qi-ge did look truly handsome in the new robes. He’d tied his hair up in a ponytail, and Xiao Jiu did the same. Like this, he didn’t look like a street rat. He looked like someone who mattered.

“Are you done?” Lord Mu asked through the door.

“These lowly ones... these ones are, Lord Mu,” Qi-ge replied. Removing the descriptive words. A cultivator, a peak lord, would not call himself lowly, surely. So it was decided then. They were going to play along.

The door opened, and Lord Mu – or Mu-shidi, should they go with that? - smiled, eyes crinkling. “It is... odd to see you in my peak’s colours. Not bad, though. Shen-shixiong and Zhangmen-shixiong would undoubtedly have mastered any peak’s arts quickly as disciples.”

Compliments too? Xiao Jiu bowed his head, as did Qi-ge. “Lord Mu is gracious.”

“What do you want to do now? I can bring you both back to Qiong Ding – that is the first peak, the one we just came from, where Zhangmen-shixiong resides – or to Shen-shixiong's home at Qing Jing Peak, if you would like. Or you may stay here.”

“Qing Jing,” Xiao Jiu decided. “If it truly is mine, then I want to see.”

Lord Mu did not seem surprised by this decision, which... was a point in favour of him actually knowing them in some capacity. Nor did he get upset about getting ordered about by a slave, which was one for them no longer being slaves. He simply nodded. “I could carry you both now that I am no longer so concerned about your physical condition,” he told them. “Or I can get one of my disciples to carry one of you.”

“A disciple.” Xiao Jiu glared at him, challenging. “A woman. I’m not riding with a man.”

There was a raised eyebrow in response, but that was really all. “Very well then. I will call for my head disciple, and she will be able to take you. I will bring Zhangmen-shixiong as before, if that is okay with him.”

Qi-ge nodded. “Of course, Lord Mu.”

After sending off a message, Lord Mu brought them back outside. A young woman, likely about twenty-five, soon came rushing, stopping only once she came close enough to bow to her peak lord.

“This disciple greets shizun,” she said politely before straightening and looking around with bright, inquisitive eyes. She was pretty, but so were all women, in Shen Jiu’s obviously correct opinion. Long black hair was tied into a bun, fastened by a jewel-studded hairpin, and she wore a more advanced version of the disciple uniform. It had a long skirt, reaching the ground, with a yaopei hanging from her sash, and embroidery that definitely cost more than Shen Jiu ever had whenever someone had purchased him, whether as a day labourer or when the Qius got him.

“Shui Xiang,” Lord Mu greeted fondly. From the way he looked at her, he clearly liked her. Xiao Jiu narrowed his eyes, but he couldn’t see any signs of lechery in the man’s eyes, nor fear from her. So he was not taking advantage of her, probably. Good. “Sect Leader and Peak Lord Shen have been cursed. This teacher trusts you will not tell anyone of this. But this one needs your assistance in carrying them to the bamboo house.”

She blinked as she looked at Qi-ge and Xiao Jiu, eyes widening in recognition. She bowed deeply, just as she had done to her shizun. “Zhangmen-shibo, Shen-shibo. This disciple would be honoured to assist.”

There was not a hint of a lie in her voice. Hm. Another point toward this outrageous story being true, then. Shen Jiu nodded at her, and Qi-ge smiled.

“This master will take Zhangmen-shixiong,” Lord Mu told her. “And Xiang will take Shen-shixiong. Take care that no one finds out who they are.”

“Yes, shizun!” She nodded, determined, before pulling out her sword and letting it hover just above the ground. Unlike Lady Guo, she did not offer her hand, clearly expecting her shibo to be able to climb on himself. And Xiao Jiu knew himself well enough to know that if he had been his apparent adult self, he would have been furious to be condenscended against in such a way as to be offered help from a disciple. So he frowned, and carefully stepped up on the sword. She did place a light hand on his shoulder, though, to help keep him in place. Seemingly recognizing that they did not have the kind of spiritual powers you needed to stay on a flying sword on their own.

Once Lord Mu and Qi-ge were also situated, they were off again. Flying did not throw his stomach the same way this time, and Shui Xiang was careful, keeping her sword steadier than Lady Guo had. They flew slower, as well, apparently no longer rushed by Lord Mu’s concern. As they approached the peak with the bamboo forest, Xiao Jiu took the chance to have a closer look at it all. The bamboo house, Lord Mu had called it. Presumably that would imply that this bamboo-covered mountain summit was his. Between groves of bamboo, houses and squares spread out evenly. The architecture was subdued and elegant, and unlike at Lord Mu’s peak, the disciples he could see were not rushing. From this height they looked like ants, but he could tell most of them were walking at a dignified speed, all dressed in greens and whites. The green was darker than that of Qian Cao, though still not dark. Not like the adult-size robes he had woken up in.

Calm lotus ponds were interspersed among the stone paths and houses that weaved between areas that looked like outdoor classrooms or beautiful exercise areas. From what little Xiao Jiu knew of feng shui from living with the Qius, everything was perfectly designed and arranged.

When they descended, it was in front of a house that was indeed built of bamboo. It was large, but not overly so, clearly built for both comfort and practicality. A subdued design, yet elegant. Xiao Jiu couldn’t believe his eyes nor ears as Shui Xiang said, “Shen-shibo’s taste truly is immaculate.”

This was his?

Wide-eyed, he turned to Lord Mu, who smiled. “That it is, Xiang. Shen-shixiong is, after all, known for his scholarly elegance.” Then he inclined his head to Xiao Jiu. “It is Xiang’s first time at your residence, Shen-shixiong. This one hopes you will forgive her awe.”

Glancing between the two healers as he stepped off the sword, Xiao Jiu forced himself not to gape. Instead he just nodded. “Of course.”

Xiang bowed. “This disciple is grateful for her shibo’s graciousness.”

“Thank you, Xiang,” Lord Mu said then. “You may return to the peak. I am sure your patients are waiting for you.”

With a nod, a bow, and a “Yes, shizun,” the woman disappeared back up over the bamboo forests.

Once she was gone, Xiao Jiu asked, faintly, “Can we go inside?”

“It is your house, Shen-shixiong. You can do whatever you please.” He smiled, amused. “You always do. I’m starting to see why Zhangmen-shixiong never stops you.”

Qi-ge frowned. “You... didn’t know?”

A shake of his head. “No one knew, shixiong. You have both been very secretive of your pasts. Understandably so. Most of us assumed that Zhangmen-shixiong came from some sort of humble merchant family, and that Shen-shixiong was the scion of nobility.”

Xiao Jiu couldn’t help his snort. “They thought I was a noble?”

“Shen-shixiong always carries himself with the outmost dignity and is the greatest scholar of our generation. Possibly of the last one too, if we’re being honest. It seemed a reasonable conclusion to draw, since he would not tell us.”

“Damn. You are all idiots.”

Lord Mu laughed softly. “You often tell us so, yes.”

“If I was a noble, why the fuck wouldn’t I tell you where I came from? That makes no sense at all.”

A nervous cough from Qi-ge interrupted them. He looked anxiously at Lord Mu. “If... you didn’t know, but know now... Will people want to get rid of us?”

Xiao Jiu froze. Fuck. Fuck. There had been so much going on that he hadn’t even had time to consider that. The other peak lords didn’t know their first- and second-in-command were slaves. Presumably runaways, at that. And most of them, if not all, had to be of high birth, if not noble one. No, they would not be okay with being led by non-human trash like them. Chattel.

From the look on Qi-ge's face, he knew it too. He was the one who brought it up in the first place, of course he did. It was plain as day: one curse, and everything they had worked for would be torn down. Ruined. They’d, once again, be nothing but filthy slaves.

What if the Qius were still alive after all? What if they heard, what if they came looking for him? They’d kill him. They’d torture him to death.

Xiao Jiu couldn’t breathe. He had to breathe. Stupid slaves who panicked were dead. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. His chest was tight.

Warm arms surrounded him. A hand pressed his face into silky robes. A chest moved beneath him, slowly. “Breathe, Xiao Jiu,” Qi-ge whispered. “It’s okay. We’ll run away together. Even if they don’t want us, we’ll be powerful cultivators. No one will touch us again. I promise.”

Air filled his lungs. Taking a gasping breath, Xiao Jiu nodded. “Qi-ge would never lie to his Xiao Jiu,” he whispered into Qi-ge's chest.

“Never.” It sounded like a vow.

Once his breathing was back under control, he looked up, seeing Lord Mu kneeling in front of them. His hands were carefully in his lap, like wanted to hover, but knew it was a bad idea. Compassion and concern shone in his eyes, and Xiao Jiu couldn’t understand why. Why did he still care?

“I won’t lie to you.” Lord Mu sighed. “It is likely that at least some of our martial siblings are not happy with this realization. They might treat you differently. But they will not be rid of you. To dispose of a sect leader, all eleven peak lords would have to be in agreement of it. And that will not happen. This master would never. Nor will Wei-shixiong, that, I can say for sure. Outside of us, there are a fair few I suspect will not let this change the respect they hold for you, such as Liu-shixiong and Qi-shijie. Guo-shimei did not seem to mind either, although she is difficult to read. As for Shen-shixiong, no peak lord can be disposed of without the consent of the sect leader. Your positions are safe.”

“But not our reputations,” Xiao Jiu finished. Cold inside.

“No. But rest assured. The Cang Qiong Mountain Sect will not stand for any disrespect from outsiders of our leaders. This will be kept quiet. No one but our fellow peak lords will know.”

“Okay,” Qi-ge said. “We can work with that. We’ve- we’ve survived worse, right, Xiao Jiu?”

The absurdity of that statement was enough to force a laugh out of him, bitter and chilled. Yes, he supposed that people who were supposed to respect them thinking them rotten, disgusting animals was nothing in comparison to the whippings, to sleeping outside during midwinter with an empty stomach, or to Qiu Jianluo’s hands on his skin.

“Yes. The hatred of our supposed peers is nothing.”

An odd look settled on Lord Mu’s face, almost contemplative. A slight frown marred his forehead, but he didn’t seem mad. Just like he was puzzling over something, figuring something out.

“Whatever,” Xiao Jiu decided. He refused to think more about this. There was no point to it, since he couldn’t do anything, and he hated being helpless. There was nothing worse. “I want to see my house.”

With that, he stood, grabbing Qi-ge's wrist to pull him along. Qi-ge followed obediently as he always did. Opening the door, Xiao Jiu refused to feel any hesitance about sullying such a beautiful place with his presence, and stepped over the threshold, having a look around. Scanning the interior critcally.

The furnishings were beautiful and understated, the kind where the craftmanship was so clearly superior to anything else yet not boastful. The details were sparse and perfectly placed. Not a thing out of place, and not a thing there that did not need to be. It was elegant. It was nothing like the ostentatiousness of Qiu Manor. It was perfect.

It felt like home.

From the awed breath coming from Qi-ge, he felt the same. His eyes shone with incredulousness and joy as his gaze flickered from the clearly ancient vase on a pedestal to the shelves upon shelves of books to the flawless paintings and calligraphy on the wall. There was a guqin in the corner, situated on a stand, and the polished wood shone. On another stand sat a xiao flute, and on yet another, an erhu.

“This really is mine?” The question came out much weaker than Xiao Jiu ever wanted to sound, but it was just.... Just...

“it is yours,” Lord Mu confirmed warmly. “Most of the artwork on the walls is Shen-shixiong's own work as well.”

“Oh.”

Qi-ge changed the grip until they were holding hands properly, and squeezed lightly. “It’s nothing less than Xiao Jiu deserves. You should’ve had something like this always. But I’m so, so glad you do now.”

Without a word, because he wasn’t sure what would come out if he tried speaking right now, he pulled Qi-ge over to look at the artwork. His artwork, apparently. It was beautiful. Every stroke was perfect and measured, turning ink and paper into landscapes, flowers and animals. The calligraphy looked more like something he’d imagine in an emperor’s palace than in a noble’s manor. He did that?

“Excuse me? Is anyone here?” A quiet voice from outside called, slightly nervous.

“Ah, Shang-shixiong,” Lord Mu said, apparently coming to greet the newcomer. Xiao Jiu narrowed his eyes. Shang-shixiong... Peak Lord Shang, then. “Thank you. Did you bring supplies?”

A nervous laugh. “Yeah, well, that’s my job... I’ve got robes... not disciple robes, that seemed too on the nose, ones for young masters, I hope they fit, and I brought some books more appropriate for beginners, since I don’t know if they remember how to read, and-” The man rambled on and on. Annoying.

Xiao Jiu stomped outside, glaring up at the man, who froze. Staring back like a mouse in a mousetrap. Now that he could get a better look at him, he could tell that there were bags under his eyes, almost as deep as the ones Xiao Jiu assumed he had had after being made to stay up to work for multiple nights in a row. Weird, from a man of this status. But he looked easy to bully, so that could probably explain it. His brown, curly hair was in a bun held up by a silver crown and his robes were practical but of a fashionable cut, sleeves tied up with silver bracers. Elegant, he had to grudgingly admit.

“A-ah, Shen-shixiong... you’re short.” The man’s eyes widened and he slapped a hand over his mouth, somehow still not dropping the piles of items in his arms.

“My lord has no brain,” Xiao Jiu replied with acid sweetness. “I am twelve. One of those things will change with time.”

For that, he received a nervous chuckle and no slap to the face. More evidence for the ‘this is true’-pile. The only evidence against it was really that it was insane.

“Don’t- don’t call me that, or Shen-shixiong will kill me when he goes back to normal. Shang-shidi is fine! Or... ‘hey, you’, or Shang Qinghua, or whatever!”

Maybe he would. This man was not anywhere near scary enough to make Xiao Jiu want to speak respectfully, peak lord or not.

Behind him, Qi-ge muffled a laugh, and Shang Qinghua’s eyes widened in surprise and apparent betrayal. Why was he so surprised? Obviously Qi-ge would take Xiao Jiu’s side. And he always laughed when he said something funny, except if it was about wishing death upon one of their fellow slaves.

With the kind of balance and strength only a skilled cultivator could have, Shang Qinghua kept everything in one hand as he handed each of them a bundle of clothing. Xiao Jiu subtly stroked his fingers over the fabric. Silk. Not even the disciple robes were this nice.

“If you don’t like them, just let me know and I’ll find you something else,” Shang Qinghua told them. “That’s my job! I’m the Peak Lord of An Ding, the logistics peak. Basically a glorified servant, haha.”

“Don’t say that, Shang-shixiong,” Lord Mu protested. “You deserve as much respect as the rest of us.”

He waved a hand, as though to wave away the concern. “It’s fine. It’s not like anyone but you and sometimes Yue-shixiong actually do. I’m used to it. At least Shen-shixiong here actually does his own paperwork – on time, too! - instead of hoisting it off on me!”

Oh, this man was pathetic, huh. Still, Xiao Jiu felt a begrudging camaraderie. He knew what that was like, to have someone make you do their work without a word of thanks. The servants at the manor did it all the time, which was the reason for all those sleepless nights. At least he himself apparently did his own damn job, now. Of course he did. Not like he’d ever trust someone else to do it. They might screw it up, on purpose even, to make trouble for him. Which was almost better than if they did it because he’d entrusted his work to someone incompetent.

Xiao Jiu rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Shang-shidi. We will go change.”

Ignoring the man, who did indeed shut his mouth immediately, he went back indoors with Qi-ge. The same thing went this time: they changed with their backs to each other. It felt weird to change clothes again so soon, especially out of ones that weren’t even dirty. Usually, he wore the same clothes for as long as it took until Qiu Haitang decided she wanted to play makeover. It was a good weird, though. The disciple robes came off and was instead exchanged for new pants in dark green, with white underrobes and a long, flowy overrobe in the same colour as the pants. There was even a jade yaopei to tie to his belt in the shape of a phoenix with a silvery tassel. It was the kind of robes he’d assist Qiu Jianlou in putting on, except they were so luxurious he didn’t think even he would have worn them on a daily basis. The top robe was embroidered with subtle bamboo, but even the lower layer had intricate shapes both woven into them and embroidered on top. He loved it.

When he turned around, he found Qi-ge in a state of half-dress, looking embarrassed and confused as he kept turning one of the robes, trying to figure out how to actually wear it. Xiao Jiu snorted, and Qi-ge's cheeks turned slightly pink.

“Xiao Jiu figured out his clothes just fine...” he mumbled.

“Yeah, because I was a manservant, among other things,” Xiao Jiu replied with a derisive wrinkle of his nose. “C’mon, I’ll help you.” He grabbed it from Qi-ge, then arranged the boy’s limbs for his ease: standing with them stretched out. With quick hands, he made simple work of dressing him in the multiple layers and then the yaopei he had gotten as well, this one a peony, and the tassel in a green that matched Xiao Jiu’s robes. His robes were black with details of silver and white. He brushed a few escaped strands out of Qi-ge's face too before stepping back. “There. Now you look much more like a young master than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you.” Qi-ge grinned at him. “So does Xiao Jiu. The noble ladies at the imperial court would be lucky to marry such a handsome boy.”

He scoffed. “As though I’d ever want them. Now come on, let’s go back outside and figure out what the hell we are supposed to be doing now.”

“As Xiao Jiu wishes,” came the standard, but always genuine, reply.

Shang Qinghua’s eyes widened when they came back outside. Xiao Jiu couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all. There was something... sad, but warm about his eyes, and it felt off. What reason would this man have to feel such things about them? He certainly hadn’t looked at them like that before. “You like it?”

“They... are acceptable,” Xiao Jiu sniffed, earning a smile in return.

“Good. I’m glad. I’ll leave the rest of the things here. I’ve got so, so much work, I can’t stay. Otherwise I won’t get a second of sleep tonight.”

Frowning, Lord Mu said, “Shang-shixiong, please take better care of yourself.”

“Sure, Mu-shidi,” Shang Qinghua replied as he stepped up on his sword. “Once I’m not drowning in work, I’ll take a long nap. So that’ll be... when I hand over An Ding to my dear head disciple. Looking forward to it.” With that, he left.

The look on Lord Mu’s face was rather funny. Exasperation, worry and annoyance all mingling. He looked moments away from swearing, despite his lofty immortal appearance.

“....When I’m an adult again, I should give him less work,” Qi-ge commented, concerned. “I can do that, right?”

“Sounds like you at least could make everyone else stop giving him their work,” Xiao Jiu replied dryly.

“I think that is an excellent idea, Zhangmen-shixiong,” Lord Mu added, sounding exhausted just by the thought of it. “If I have to treat that man for sleep-deprivation and overwork one more time, I think I will want to scream.”

“Well, whatever.” Xiao Jiu turned to Lord Mu. “What happens now? What do you expect from us?”

Lord Mu brushed some imagined dirt of his wide sleeves. “I’ve already told you what I expect. For you to heal. That is all. As for what happens now... You can both stay in the bamboo house, if that is amenable to you.” Xiao Jiu nodded. It was. “And we will visit you to make sure you are alright every day. The servants will bring food to your door, but I will ensure they do not enter. If someone sees you, you might say that you are Shen Qingqiu’s cousins here to visit. It’s an excuse as good as any. And, of course, do not tell anyone who you actually are, nor that you were slaves.”

The past tense was pleasing, even if it was still not that true. Once part of the slave class, always part of the slave class. But if no one knew... Then it would not matter, now would it? They didn’t look like slaves like this. Only a slight bruise on Qi-ge's cheek told of any abuse, and that could easily be excused as him having tripped, or even regular discipline from their imaginary parents or teachers.

“We will do that. Then you may leave now, Lord-” He frowned. “Mu-shidi.”

“Please have some food sent, if you can,” Qi-ge added politely. As if to emphasize it, his stomach made a horrible little noise.

Mu-shidi paled. “When was the last time you ate? How did I not think of that earlier?”

Xiao Jiu shrugged. “Last night. I got to finish Miss Haitang’s plate when she was done.”

“I had some bread around sunrise,” Qi-ge said. “But not much.”

“I’ll have them send food immediately,” Mu-shidi said, determined. “Appropriate food for healing from starvation. Make sure you eat slowly.”

Rolling his eyes, Xiao Jiu nodded. After giving them some further instructions, as though they didn’t know how to eat food, he hurried away. Presumably to the kitchens.

Used as they were to hunger pains, they didn’t let it affect them as they had a further look around the house. It had two bedrooms – one bigger, which was Shen Qingqiu’s own, and one smaller, sitting unused. A kitchen of its own, which was clearly mostly used to make tea. They found a large collection of fans in every possible design, and so many robes. All of them were made out of silk, except a few heavy coats and mantles that were clearly made to be worn in the winter. Not a single robe was anything less than magnificent, and probably cost as much as a house.

“We’re so rich,” Qi-ge said in awe when they noticed those. “Do you think we’ve forgotten what it’s like to be hungry?”

“Maybe,” Xiao Jiu decided. “Seems hard to forget, though.”

They also found correspondence, but Xiao Jiu could only read about half of it and Qi-ge even less, since he hadn’t had Qiu Jianluo as a cruel teacher. From what he could tell though, he – adult him – was corresponding with all manners of scholars and philosophers. Also a bunch of nobles and high-ranking cultivators, but they seemed so annoying he could not imagine it was by choice. In one of the drawers by the desk they found half-finished music scores, implying he wrote his own music, as well as poetry in progress. How much free time did he have?! But there was also an incredible amount of paperwork, schoolwork from the disciples that he was grading, and aid requests from the common people.

It was all his, though. He frowned at Qi-ge. “Doesn’t seem like we live together.”

Qi-ge hummed. “I suppose that would make sense, if we’re both so busy running our own peaks and the sect. I’m sure we visit each other almost every day, though.”

“This is all mine. You don’t want to go see yours?”

Shaking his head, Qi-ge gave a warm smile. “No. It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad to see all of this for you. Whatever I have can’t be as nice as this. Xiao Jiu has better taste.”

“Well, that’s true.” That was fine, then. If Qi-ge didn’t care, there was no reason to go anywhere else. Xiao Jiu liked it here. It felt almost tranquil, something he’d never experienced before.

A knock on the door and a soft voice informed “Master Shen and Sect Leader” that the food had arrived before the quiet footsteps of a servant removing themselves could be heard down the paved path. The two of them exchanged one look before throwing themselves at the door, Xiao Jiu pulling open and Qi-ge fetching the food. As soon as the door slammed shut behind them and Xiao Jiu had locked it, they stared at the feast before them. There were two steaming bowls of congee topped with chicken and vegetables.

“Eat slow,” Qi-ge reminded him, though his voice was strained. It was obvious that he wanted to throw himself on the food and devour it as much as Xiao Jiu did. They were tense, the anxiety setting in. Even though they were locked into the house and no one else was around – not to mention that no one would probably dare to invade a Peak Lord’s house – it was impossible to shake the feeling that someone would try to steal the food from them. Or that some master would decide they didn’t deserve it, and take it back, or just pour it into the dirt to keep them from it. It wouldn’t - they’d eaten from the muddy ground before. But it would be unpleasant.

Nodding, Xiao Jiu took a bowl and a spoon, and took a bite. The flavour burst open in his mouth, almost overwhelming. Even the broth tasted like chicken and spring onion. His stomach grumbled, making itself known properly now that it realized there was a chance for more food, and it was torture to make sure to chew the food before swallowing and taking another mouthful. Don’t just shovel it down, he reminded himself. You will throw it up again if you do.

From the look on Qi-ge's face, he was facing a similar struggle. The bamboo house remained entirely silent except for the sounds of them eating until the bowls were empty. After, Xiao Jiu’s stomach felt uncomfortably full. But uncomfortably full was by far better than uncomfortably empty, he realized, and he cherished it. He couldn’t remember if he ever had felt not-still-hungry once the food was gone.

As Xiao Jiu leaned on Qi-ge's shoulder, slowly breathing through the feeling, his eyelids felt heavy. They drooped, and Qi-ge shifted. Arms surrounded him, and he didn’t fight as Qi-ge picked him up as though he was a young maiden. Why would he? There was nowhere safer than in Qi-ge's arms, and he was tired. He’d only slept a few hours last night before the other servants had decided he was the one who should prepare Qiu Jianluo’s morning bath, and today had been long.

Qi-ge carried him into the bedroom, and they both eyed the bed. Xiao Jiu shook his head. That would be just one thing too much. His memories of beds weren’t great, and this one looked very soft. Sleeping in it would feel weird. Instead, they settled at the side of it, and Qi-ge pulled the cover to wrap them both into. Xiao Jiu hummed, please. Yes, that was nice. That was just right.

After all that, it didn’t take long for sleep to take him.

They slept until the morning sun’s rays started trickling in through the window. Xiao Jiu breathed out, face pressed against Qi-ge's stomach. Qi-ge's hand was tangled in his hair. Warm, safe. Just like how they’d sleep in the room the slavers would lock them in sometimes, or in hidden street corners. Except they weren’t cold, and his stomach didn’t ache. His stomach dropped for a second – if the sun was out, he was late to his chores – before he remembered where he was, and with whom. He relaxed.

“Morning, Xiao Jiu,” Qi-ge mumbled, voice thick with sleep. Xiao Jiu could feel his smile as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Fingers played with his tangled locks of hair. He grumbled in reply.

“Sleep more, if you want. You deserve it.”

“So do you,” Xiao Jiu mumbled, almost too quiet to be heard. It was embarrassing to say things like that! He didn’t understand how Qi-ge did it all the time with a straight face.

The smile against his scalp grew. “Qi-ge isn’t tired anymore, don’t worry.”

“Well, I’m not either.” There was sleep in his limbs still, but his mind was starting to feel alert. He’d caught up on a lot of sleep tonight. It was bound to have some positive consequences. Disentangling himself from the other, he looked out the window. The sun was rising above the bamboo, painting the sky in pink. Gorgeous. Was this a sight he was used to, normally? Did he see this every morning? Then again, if he was a fancy cultivator, maybe he slept in past sunrise, as difficult as that was to imagine.

They were still wearing the robes from yesterday, he realized. Eh. Nothing a little straightening out wouldn’t fix. Qi-ge could do his hair. Maybe somewhere in this house there was even a guan that would fit him even as he was now. That’d be pretty nice.

As they relished in the luxury of just staying half-asleep and together, there was another light knock on the door. “Breakfast, Master Shen,” a girl’s voice called before she disappeared once more. Well, that probably answered the question about when he normally woke up as an adult. He stood up, padding over to the door with Qi-ge to fetch it. Their steps were quick, but it wasn’t the same franticness as it had been yesterday. More food before he’d even started to feel hungry again was an incredible luxury.

What sat outside the door were baozi, soy milk, and tofu pudding. The warm foods were still warm, and the milk was somewhat chilly from the morning air. Inside, they divided it evenly between them, even as Qi-ge tried to insist that Xiao Jiu took the final bao.

Xiao Jiu rolled his eyes, as he often did around his stupid Qi-ge. “We’ll get more food later. You can have it.”

“Xiao Jiu should, he’s a growing boy.”

“So are you, moron. You’re a teenager.”

In the end, they found a knife and cut it in half, both of them eating that one first to avoid the filling cooling.

After breakfast, they helped each other straighten their clothes, and Qi-ge did indeed do his hair. They knelt on the bed as Qi-ge carefully brushed out his hair with a jade comb.

As they were in the middle of that, a knock interrupted them. “Would Master Shen like his bath?” a voice asked, presumably a servant. This one sounded like a young boy.

They exchanged glances, and Qi-ge looked himself over. Yeah, they were both probably filthy. Trying to make his voice as grown up as possible, Xiao Jiu called, “Yes. I will be reading in the other room. Don’t disturb me as you prepare the bath.”

By the impressed look on Qi-ge's face, he’d pulled it off. Smirking smugly, he hopped off the bed and they went to wait in the side room.

The bath finished preparing soon, though, and once the servants were gone, they crept into that room. A whole room just for bathing! With oils and combs and rice water all already prepared and by the tub, which was steaming. A warm bath. He dipped his hand in it, and found it almost the perfect temperature. Slightly too hot, still. He glanced at Qi-ge, and decided, “We’ll bathe together. But the pants stay on.”

“As Xiao Jiu wishes,” Qi-ge said, though concern marred his face. Of course it did. Never before had Xiao Jiu been this adamant that not even Qi-ge saw him naked. The fool would just have to keep worrying then, because Xiao Jiu wasn’t telling! Even if the worry left a lump in his stomach. It was better than what Qi-ge knowing would do.

They peeled off the clothes and the bandages. Climbing into the tub, Xiao Jiu let out a hiss. Hot! But his muscles relaxed as he slipped into it, and Qi-ge joined. Oh. He understood now why both the Qiu siblings insisted on so many baths. Both dirt and worry were easier to bear, if not go away entirely, and as he could take whatever oil smelled the nicest and rub down himself, something loosened in him as the dirt washed away.

“I didn’t know a bath could be nice,” Qi-ge said in awed voice as he leaned over the edge of the tub to dip his hair in the rice water. “I think I want to do this every day.”

“You probably do, now.” Xiao Jiu grinned, gleeful. “With servants to prepare your bathwater!”

“This doesn’t feel real.” Qi-ge looked about the room, and at the faint reflection of himself in the water. “Even if it seems to be. How could we become important and rich? We’re nothing.”

Xiao Jiu slapped his arm, hard enough to sting. Qi-ge twitched, but looked up. That horrible sudden melancholy out of his eyes. “Shut it, Qi-ge. This is ours. If we got here, it’s because we were better than all those lofty lords and ladies. It means we deserve it more than them, because no one would’ve given us those titles out of fucking charity.” If he had to tell himself that too, that was nobody’s business but his.

Blinking a few times, Qi-ge finally smiled. It was a little weak, but better than nothing. “Xiao Jiu is right as always.”

They got out of the bath, drying themselves off with soft towels, and back into the clothing. Xiao Jiu helped Qi-ge without waiting for him to mess up this time, it was just efficient that way.

Just as Qi-ge finished tying Xiao Jiu’s hair into a neat ponytail – even adding a few braids – there was a loud banging on the door. “Shen Qing- Shen Jiu! I want answers!”

“It’s that man in white again,” Xiao Jiu hissed. “The one who grabbed me. What do we do?”

Qi-ge paled. Hand clenching on nothing by his waist, like a lost muscle memory. But he held Xiao Jiu’s hand, squeezing it. “Stay here. Hide.”

“Qi-ge!” Xiao Jiu yelled. “Don’t be an idiot!”

“I know you’re there, Shen Jiu!”

Giving him a reassuring smile – the same one he smiled when he’d try to reason with the slavers about beating their livestock half to death – he gently pushed Xiao Jiu behind him and went for the door. Xiao Jiu pulled at his arm, but Qi-ge was older, larger, and stronger. There was nothing he could do but obey. He hid behind a privacy screen, refusing to leave Qi-ge alone with that brute.

The door slid open, and Xiao Jiu could imagine the deep bow Qi-ge folded into. Ready to go on his knees the moment the man’s expression turned more volatile than it already was. He played the role of a slave so well; biddable and grateful for scraps. No one could sense the ambition beneath.

“Shen J- Zhangmen-shixiong?” the man interrupted himself, sounding confused. The anger seemed to dissipate. Perhaps he wasn’t smart enough to have two emotions at once. “Why are you bowing?”

“This lowly one begs the immortal master to calm down,” he murmured. “Xiao Jiu has done nothing wrong. These lowly ones were cursed, and do not remember their sect. If the immortal master wishes to punish Xiao Jiu, this lowly one begs to be allowed to take it in his stead.”

“What?!” Xiao Jiu shouted, standing up from his crouch. “Qi-ge!” The man’s gaze flickered to him, recognition and familiar distaste in them. “You can’t do that! And this… this asshole can’t do that either! Mu-shidi says you’re the sect leader, whoever this is has no right!”

The look on the man’s face fell into further confusion, and then suddenly cleared. Still, he sounded sceptical as he asked, “You really don’t remember anything?”

“Obviously not, moron.” Xiao Jiu glared, forcing himself to ignore the pit of fear at having such a powerful man glaring at him. Because this one was clearly physically so, as well. Every movement he made showed complete ease with his body and trust in his own abilities.  Qi-ge had stood up, tense and seemingly ready to throw himself between them if things deteriorated.

“Ah.” He didn’t seem less pissed, but perhaps that was just his face, because he bowed. Xiao Jiu was getting weirdly used to having people bow to them. “Then I apologize for my behaviour. This one is Liu Qingge of Bai Zhan Peak. You call me Liu-shidi.”

Looking dizzy from the sudden shift, Qi-ge asked, “You still want us to call you that even though you know we’re slaves?”

Liu Qingge scowled. “I don’t care. Anyone who does is a disgrace to the title of peak lord. You’re my senior martial brothers, so you call me shidi.”

“…thank you, Liu-shidi,” Qi-ge replied, smiling more genuinely as he straightened his back properly. The top of his head reached Liu Qingge’s jaw.

Liu Qingge nodded harshly. “So what will you do now?”

“What can we do? We’re not cultivators. We’re going to wait here until you people solve the mess you caused.” Xiao Jiu scowled. “Mu-shidi says I told you not to touch that thing.”

The expressions that played out over Liu Qingge’s face were a sight to behold. It has been clear from the first moment they met that he did not like Xiao Jiu. Now, he seemed like he wanted to be mad, but that he also thought he shouldn’t be, for some reason. In the end, he scowled back. “I’m not going to argue with a child. Even if you’re as unpleasant now as you  are normally.” He  looked to Qi-ge, and unsurprisingly, his expression turned more pleasant. Clearly, he liked him. Bowing his head. “I’m joining the efforts to get you back to adulthood, Zhangmen-shixiong. Be careful.”

With that, he turned and stormed away.

Once he was out of sight and hearing, the two of them turned to stare in disbelief. What the fuck had that been about? Did the idiot really think Xiao Jiu wanted him and Qi-ge to be helpless children again? Fucking hell. Genuinely what was wrong with that man? The distaste in Xiao Jiu’s mouth was so clear that it didn’t seem like it could be from just the past day.

Qi-ge was about to talk, but Xiao Jiu didn’t let him. “If you say one nice thing about him, I wont speak to you until lunch.”

His mouth snapped shut. It was very satisfying.

Since no one else came barging in for now, there was little to do but wait. They didn’t dare to go outside, since there was no knowing if disciples usually ventured this close to the bamboo house (though he doubted it), so indoors they remained.

They found a shiny set of Go and Xiao Jiu did his best to teach Qi-ge what he’d picked up from observing Qiu Jianluo play with his friends. He won every time. Qi-ge wasn’t very good at it. They made an effort to paint, something they’d never had the luxury of trying before, but the unsteady lines that couldn’t compare to the artwork on the walls were frustrating. Then they picked up the books Shang Qinghua had brought, and Xiao Jiu pointed out the characters he knew to Qi-ge. The other took to it immediately, memorizing the words and probably tucking tjen to his heart or something cheesy like that. And they talked.

Now that they didn’t have to worry about being found out – about Shen Jiu being beaten, about Qi-ge getting chased off or punished for daring to loiter around the Qiu estate when he was just s filthy slave – they had plenty to catch up on. Qi-ge told him about seeing the other slave children, like how Shi Wu was still begging, and Shi Qi had been sold to a brothel, and about his work at the manor. It really only consisted of physical labour, some of it the lowest kind, like cleaning toilets, but it allowed him to mostly stay out of sight and out of mind. Xiao Jiu told him about some of Qiu Jianluo’s moods, but also about how he refused to let his sister know what a beast he was, and so Xiao Jiu could find shelter with her. How she liked to brush and braid his hair, or even dress him up. He did not tell him that that sometimes included her clothes, which he was small enough to fit into despite being both older and a boy. It was humiliating. But she’d give him sweets and be nice to him, and so he was willing to endure. Even if he hadn’t had a choice even if he wasn’t. He did tell Qi-ge about the candy, and that she’d told him she wanted to marry him when they were older. It was a silly whim from a girl who’d never been told no. But a little flattering. No one but Qi-ge had wanted him for anything but to inflict pain on before.

“I’m glad not everything was horrible,” Qi-ge said quietly.

Xiao Jiu looked up at the ceiling. “She’s nice. But she’s so… oblivious. I don’t understand how she never noticed anything.”

“She’s noble.” It was really the only explanation needed. Only nobility, and especially their daughters, could afford to be so blind. To willingly turn away from the truth.

“Well, good riddance,” Xiao Jiu decided. “She was nice, if stupid, but that place was hell.”

They also spoke about their future, and what it apparently had brought. Sect leader and second peak lord of the greatest sect in China. They were untouchable. People could sneer, but they couldn’t hurt them. They were powerful now. Numbers Seven and Nine were no more.

A few hours passed this way. Lunch was brought by the servants, and this time they could even bring themselves to savour it instead of eating as fast as they dared to without risking throwing up. The peace couldn’t last forever, though. Once again, someone was at the door.

They went together, this time. Xiao Jiu cautiously slid open the door a smidge, sneaking a peek. It was one of the women from yesterday,, one of the peak lords. The one who hadn’t wanted to carry him on her sword, and didn’t seem to like him. Next to her stood Wei Qingwei. With a sigh, he opened the door, and bowed. The bow was shallower than he would ever have dared before. A courtesy, not a show of submission. “Yes?”

“Shen-shixiong!” Wei Qingwei greeted, smiling brightly. “And Zhangmen-shixiong, too, of course! May we come in?”

Eyeing them suspiciously, Xiao Jiu stepped back, allowing them to open it fully. The woman stared back, her dark eyes difficult to get a grip on. But her dress was practical and her hair was pinned up with bejewelled hairpins, giving her a severe look.

“This is Qi Qingqi, lord of Xian Shu peak, the textile peak,” Wei Qingwei introduced her. “Qi-shimei to you both.”

Qi-ge bowed politely. “Greeting Wei-shidi and Qi-shimei.”

Just like with Liu Qingge, her expression turned much more pleasant when she turned to him. Xiao Jiu did his best to pretend that hurt didn’t tug at him. He knew he was mean and rotten, so there was no point in pretending that anyone would like him. He didn’t need anyone but Qi-ge anyway.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“We’re here to let you know there’s been developments in curing you,” Qi Qingqi told them. At least she wasn’t ignoring him. “Shang Qinghua figured it out and Liu Qingge and Wu Qingli has gone to fetch it.”

“Wu Qingli is the lord of the peak handling magical flora,” Wei Qingwei added helpfully. “She’s very skilled.”

“Well, good.” Xiao Jiu frowned. “Why did both of you need to come to tell us that?”

“We didn’t,” Qi Qingqi replied, unimpressed. “Wei-shixiong insisted on coming along.”

The man shrugged, unashamed at being called out. “You’re known for not getting along with Shen-shixiong, shimei.”

“I’m not going to fight a child!” she replied, glaring at him. “And I didn’t know Shen Qingqiu was like that because he’d been abused.”

Xiao Jiu raised an eyebrow. “Not that I know what you mean with ‘like that’, but why does it make a difference? I’m sure many of the men who hurt me have been hurt, and I don’t give a shit. I would kill them for it if I could.” He grinned viciously. “Probably I already have.”

Qi Qingqi twitched, but then she sat down by the low table they had played Go on. Her sleeves swept elegantly as she did. “That is what I wanted to talk with you about. I want all the information you can give me on the slave trade and how it works. We’re going to hunt those fuckers down.”

Xiao Jiu gaped. Both at hearing a high-rank lady swear, and at the viciousness with which she spoke of the trade. “Slavery is legal,” he finally pointed out. “They’re not breaking the law.”

“In Cang Qiong’s lands they are.” She stared at both of them, quietly ordering them to sit down. “It was one of Yue-shixiong’s first orders as sect leader. Nevertheless, they’re not gone – they’re just sneakier now.”

Qi-ge had outlawed slavery. He knew Qi-ge’s shaken expression was mirrored on his own face. He’d done something real that could have saved them when they were younger. Xiao Jiu stared at Qi-ge, who stood frozen.

He did something he barely ever did, because Qi-ge knew he didn’t like asking for affection. He threw himself at him, squeezing his arms around Qi-ge and pressing his face into his neck. Qi-ge let out a slow breath and then hugged him back, just as tight.

“You’re good, Qi-ge,” Xiao Jiu mumbled into his collarbone.

A hand slid down, pressing comfortingly at the small of his back. “So is Xiao Jiu.”

When they finally parted, they found the two adults staring at them. Xiao Jiu flushed, while Qi-ge just smiled, looking very pleased.

“Shut up,” he snapped at all of them. He sat down across Qi Qingqi. “We’ll tell you everything.”

They had only just wrapped up the conversation and finished the tea Wei Qingwei had prepared while they spoke when it knocked on the door again. Though it could barely be described as a knock. More accurate would be probably trying to knock it down. When Wei Qingwei opened it, Liu Qingge and Shang Qinghua stood there. Shang Qinghua hung back, looking for all the world like he was about to bolt.

“Here.” Liu Qingge thrust a bag at Wei Qingwei. “The antidote. Shang Qinghua insists they just need to eat a leaf each.”

Shang Qinghua squeaked at being mentioned.

“…And what does Mu-shidi say?” Wei Qingwei asked, bewildered.

“He agrees,” Shang Qinghua quickly promised. “He’ll be here as soon as he can, but he couldn’t leave his patient right now.”

Qi-ge frowned. “Is it dangerous?”

“Not if you don’t eat more than you should,” Shang Qinghua assured them.

“Then give it here.” Xiao Jiu snatched the bag from Wei Qingwei before he could react. He opened it. Finding over a dozen leaves in it, he quickly picked out two that looked normal and handed one to Qi-ge and took one himself. “I’m tired of being... this.”

Without hesitating, he shoved it into his mouth and chewed. Swallowed.

Heat flushed through his body, and the world spun. Everything went black.

When Shen Qingqiu opened his eyes, it was to people staring at him. He found that he had been covered in a blanket, and repressed a flush as he realized he was no longer wearing clothes under it: the children’s robes had been torn to pieces. His younger self had been an idiot to not consider that. Wei Qingwei and Shang Qinghua stared at him with concern, while Qi Qingqi had an utterly indecipherable look on her face. But she usually did, when she wasn’t staring at him with plain disgust.

“Get out,” he hissed. Sitting up, he pulled the blanket tightly around him. When they didn’t move, he repeated, enounciating now, “Get out!”

“Zhangmen-shixiong-” Wei Qingwei began, glancing to the side where Shen Qingqiu found their sect leader in a similar position as himself. Shang Qinghua, at least, was beginning to inch outside. That coward could at least follow orders, making him slightly less insufferable than the rest of his sect siblings.

“I’ll deal with him,” he interrupted. Normally, he would attempt to not be that uncultured, but right now he found that he didn’t care. They’d seen the worst of him anyway. “Out of my fucking house.”

That seemed to startle them enough to move, to hear their refined Qing Jing Peak Lord swear. The door quietly slid shut behind them, and Shen Qingqiu barely spared Yue Qingyuan – still passed out – a glance before he stepped into his bedroom to get properly dressed. Not until he was once again dressed in layers upon layers of clothing that enveloped his skin and kept his body safely hidden – a habit he had picked up as soon as he got the chance when he was promoted to head disciple – and his hair was combed shiny and put up in one of his heavy guans did he return back to the greeting room to poke at Yue Qingyuan with a booted foot.

It only took two light kicks until he startled awake. His eyes flew open as he stared up at Shen Qingqiu. “Xiao Jiu-”

“That’s not my name. Do not presume to call me so.”

He ignored Yue Qingyuan’s crestfallen expression as he sat up.

“Qingqiu-shidi,” he said instead. “How are you feeling?”

“As decent as I possibly could, considering our idiot martial siblings had our greatest secret revealed, and most of them are now going to want us disposed of since they will not want to act subordinates to two escaped slaves.” He glared at the world itself, but mostly at Yue Qingyuan, who did look nauseous at the reminder.

But he sat up, not bothering to keep himself as covered as Shen Qingqiu had – likely reasoning that Xiao Jiu had already seen him naked many times, the sentimental fool. “We won’t let them.” There was steel in his voice and his eyes. “You were right earlier. We earned this. And no one is taking it away from us.”

Shen Qingqiu laughed. It wasn’t nice, but it also wasn’t mean. It simply was. “I knew it. I knew you loved the power, sitting on top of the mountain.”

“Well,” Yue Qingyuan replied, unashamed but maybe a little flustered. “Qingqiu-shidi always was able to see right through this one.”

“Now get dressed and get out of my house. I’ll give you some of my robes, just so the sect doesn’t lose face having its leader run around naked. But you will ruin them, you big oaf, so you will reimburse me.” With that, he turned around and went back to the bedroom to retrieve some robes, taking care to choose ones he wouldn’t care if they were indeed ruined. At the same time, he unfolded the fan he pulled from his qiankun sleeve. It felt right in his hand, a limb lost and returned. When he went back out he fanned himself lazily as he threw the robes right on top of his sect leader and turned his back to allow the man to dress.

Sheepishly, Yue Qingyuan did so. He obeyed orders, going to leave, and as his hand stretched out to open the door, Shen Qingqiu said, “In this, we will be allies, Yue Qingyuan. We will raze this whole mountain to the ground if that is what it takes to keep what is rightfully ours. But only in this.”

Yue Qingyuan’s smile was wry as he said, “As Qingqiu-shidi wishes.”