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Today Shen Qingqiu slipped away from him again.
Not that Mu Qingfang ever tried to keep him. To wrap Shen Qingqiu in chains, lock him up in the comfiest of his underground alchemy halls and medicine gardens, to hide him away among soft embroidered pillows, to gently twist his ankles and make himself Shen Qingqiu's entire world...
Mu Qingfang wasn't that sort of man.
While he admitted he might not be as saintly as people often thought of him just because of his profession, and entertained filthy fantasies often enough that his yang energy... spilled in the secrecy of his cold sheets every night, the problem was the reason he wanted to have his Shixiong so very much he ached: that rather than the graceful and reserved mask of Qing Jing peak lord, what he appreciated most was the truth that slipped through the gaps. What Shen-shixiong revealed in freedom rather than constraint.
Shen Qingqiu looked especially lovely tonight.
His green eyes sparkled in the soft light of candles Mu Qingfang had lit for their date - although he sometimes wondered whether his Shixiong even knew they were on a date - and the silk of his hair glistened after Mu Qingfang had massaged his head and rubbed oils into it to help his Shen-shixiong with disciple-induced headaches. All children loved explosions and murder in their free time. Mu Qingfang's were no different, of course -- that's why he gave his none of that. You don't go to Qian Cao peak unless you either want to save the common people or are really into masochism. Sometimes Mu Qingfang even thought it would be a good home for their Sect Leader.
But Shen-shixiong rejected his wisdom of burdening disciples with so much work they'd wish they died. Shen-shixiong lost a lot of his common sense in qi deviation of that time.
He gained an obliviously seductive personality in return, however, so Mu Qingfang wondered if there was a devious plan to this all along.
"Well, it's been a lovely evening," Shen Qingqiu said in his usual soft voice, suddenly formal even though he had spent an hour before gesticulating with his fan and arguing the merits of the book he'd found abandoned in his library. Mu Qingfang smiled in response even as he mourned the loss of that expression. "Surely, I've held up my Shidi too much already. His disciples must be going round in circles without his guidance."
Medicine was an art Mu Qingfang had signed away his life for, but he would sacrifice even that for his Shen-shixiong. It wasn't like he practised it for people. True, he loved the challenge. Loved unravelling diseases and their causes like fascinating puzzles, unravelling, then putting them back together into cures.
But...
He glanced at Shen Qingqiu's face. Calm, cool, elegant. All the things it wasn't a few seconds ago.
His Shixiong might be an even more fascinating puzzle.
Mu Qingfang placed his hand on Shen Qingqiu's, by the plate with biscuits. The only touch he would allow himself. Lest he lose control. Lest he betray the expectations his dear Shixiong seemed to have of him.
He repressed a shudder and put on an even tenderer smile. He would continue their date in the heat of his dreams tonight, in sweet fantasies where he was engulfed by his Shixiong's heat that was even sweeter still.
"My disciples are perfectly capable without me there to hold their hands," Mu Qingfang made himself say despite the thirst parching his throat. Shen Qingqiu's hand was so very soft. His fingers long, slim, and delicate. Would look perfect around Mu Qingfang's dick, or stuffed into his mouth, or even into Shen Qingqiu's own hole-
Oh no.
It wasn't that time yet.
Thankfully, Mu Qingfang could recite fire-calming sutras of the medical arts in his sleep.
His Shen-shixiong made him practise a lot.
"Ah, I wish mine were the same," Shen Qingqiu said as if he hadn't rejected all the solutions Mu Qingfang had found to the sticky disciple with too much free time on hand problem. "My Binghe can't even go through a simple fighting practice without tripping and falling into my arms." A smile of fondness burst through his expression no matter how tightly he locked in those emotions. "And if Ning Yingying were a book character, she'd be the type of girl to drag main hero into trouble in every other chapter."
Mu Qingfang had seen that Binghe slaughtering his way through Bai Zhan peak. And no, he didn't trip into anyone's embrace. Magically. This would have been kind of a sign for most people. But of course his Shen-shixiong had never been most people.
No need to even mention that Ning Yingying girl. Even his own disciples had met her once. They never returned the same. Mu Qingfang could respect anyone capable of dealing that much trauma.
"And Ming Fan," Shen Qingqiu continued. Lively again, despite his intention to leave just some moments ago. Mu Qingfan didn't mind the reason as long as he stayed. "Every time I think that boy is a good seedling, I find him dropping insects in Binghe's tea. And then there is-"
His own sturdy, callused fingers rubbing smooth circles into Shen Qingqiu's knuckles, Mu Qingfang held his head in his palm and watched, absorbed, as his Shixiong "complained" about his disciples, every word bursting with pride.
He carefully checked his Shixiong's reaction to his touch, but as always, Shen Qingqiu didn't notice. The healer used it shamelessly. Shen Qingqiu's eyes were a little more real today. As they always were after he got to speak his mind on the story that occupied it that day and rant about the disciples who followed him like ducklings.
Mu Qingfang tucked this image of his Shixiong away into a special bookcase of them in his mind. Some, he would even jot down on stray sheets of paper when absent-minded and relaxed. Even healers who liked challange needed to unwind, after all. Thinking about his Shixiong was one of the best ways of that. Sometimes his hand travelled to the paper, sometimes it tavelled inside his trousers and under inner gartments, and then he would spend at least an hour thinking about his Second Shixiong so extensively that Sect Leader Yue would disregard his vaunted healer status and rid Cang Qiong Mountain of one of its peak lords if he found out.
Mu Qingfang spitefully noted that Sect Leader Yue didn't rid the mountain of himself for the very same actions.
Then again, there were simply too many people in the Sect who held such thoughts about Shen Qingqiu.
Some just in passing, some held tender feelings in their hearts for a long, long time -- months, if not years. This condition progressively worsened ever since the qi deviation that had changed everything so dramatically.
Strangely enough, before that, Mu Qingfang had never noticed how thin Shen Qingqiu's wrists were. How sweet his skin smelled of soaps and lotions. How his layers of robes fluttered and flowed when the flawless immortal glided across the Rainbow Bridge to visit the Sect Leader (he strangely started to use his sword to fly a lot less, preferring the carriage and occasional romantic walks).
Had his Shixiong always been... so enticing?
And physical traits were not the only ones he'd noticed.
Mu Qingfang paid more attention to his personality as well.
The polite and diplomatic way Shen Qingqiu held himself, the way he diffused conflicts instead of stoking fires and watching his sect siblings burn. The way he patted his disciples on their heads. The way he laughed at Mu Qingfang's awkwards attemps at jokes behind his fan. The way he cut apart the books he read like Mu Qingfang cut up his corpses.
And then... That day, when Shen Qingqiu sacrificed himself for just a student -- after, as it turned out later, saving his sworn enemy Liu Qingge from a certain death in Lingxi caves! -- something in Mu Qingfang's heart moved.
Was it intrigue?..
Curiosity? Fascination?
Such a foolish endeavour. Which other master, which other peak lord would sacrifice their fragile, hard-won immortality for some disciple? Who wasn't even favoured? Who was rumoured to be the worst disciple on the peak despite winning a match against a demon elder in that scam of a duel?
But it was in that moment that true interest towards his cold, aloof, predictable in his pettiness Shixiong was born.
Afterwards, it was easy to use Without-a-Cure as an excuse to invite Shen Qingqiu for some further study- peak lord gossip session, he meant. Quite out of character for them both, since Mu Qingfang preferred to keep away from meandering talk, while Shen Qingqiu kept away from all talk and people altogether.
Or rather, used to.
After qi deviation, Shen Qingqiu agreed to meetings cordially enough. He acted aloof still, yes, but incredibly graceful. It was no longer just cold grace either -- there was now a great deal of charm in it. Had Mu Qingfang always been so blind to the chams of his Shixiong? Or had something vital changed? It was like being with a different person in so many ways!
Good thing Wei Qingwei confirmed it wasn't possession... although by now, Mu Qingfang felt that even if it turned out that Shen-shixiong's body had been seized by some monstrous demon those years ago, most people on the peaks would just... ignore that. Some would even call it divine blessing. It's not like any of them had really known anything of pre-qi deviation Shen Qingqiu other than his spite and cold, biting anger.
Yue Qingyuan would be sad. But if he were sad to the point of wanting to eliminate the current Shen Qingqiu, the version Mu Qingfang liked so very much, well.
Mu Qingfang was a healer but.
He was a cultivator first and foremost. And his plants, and herbs, and trees had other purposes than healing.
The corners of his lips quirked up a little.
It wasn't often that he got to try out plants that weren't designed to mend bones and heal wounds. Creating a disease to utterly destroy someone was a challenge, too.
"Is Mu-shidi thinking of something funny?" Shen Qingqiiu asked.
He tried for nonchalance, but he'd picked up his fan, which, as Mu Qingfang had learnt, meant that he was experiencing an emotion he didn't want others to see. In this case it was safe to guess that he was curious. Sometimes Shen-shixiong was a little like those gossiping old ladies from the court in Mu Qingfang's home town.
It looked endearing on his Shixiong.
Mu Qingfang's smile widened, almost no longer gentle but growing into a boyish grin, not at all in line with his dignified healer image. Dignified when he wasn't forever tired and dead inside, of course.
"No. Just thinking of Sect Leader Yue," Mu Qingfang said in a controlled, light voice. He decided to really think of Sect Leader Yue so that this wouldn't be entirely a lie, and immediately remembered the poisons that would go well with Sect Leader's favoured tea before bed. "Another treat?"
"Ah, no." Shen Qingqiu sneakily and longingly looked at the plate. Mu Qingfang pretended he didn't pay attention when, despite his words, Shen Qingqiu hand swiped a milk candy from the plate when he feinted turning away. "Binghe will be upset that I've filled my stomach with sweets before dinner again."
A hot burst of jealousy exploded in Mu Qingfang's stomach.
How annoying. It was beneath him to be jealous of a mere disciple at this point, and some would say that he was too suspicious -- but he knew a lot about human constitution and recognised the signs of something... else about that child.
And that's leaving out the fact that the boy wouldn't be a child forever.
Yet Shen Qingqiu let him share his home, share his meals, share the time they spent preparing for the day, combing each other's hair. Luo Binghe washed his Shizun's sheets and clothes, and Mu Qingfang knew quite a lot about the things that could be done with clothes that haven't yet been washed but whose master already didn't care about what happened to them.
How could he not when Mu Qingfang himself would often use the moments his Shixiong lay on his bed on Qian Cao waiting to receive his medicine and massage, and instead of behaving properly Mu Qingfang would desperately clutch at the hastily, messily discarded silks and bring them to his nose, engulfing that dear, sweet, familiar scent that resembled home even more than the bitter scents lingering on his own clothing.
With the way that boy looked at his Shizun, Mu Qingfang had no doubt that the child would be just as desperate to grab at any chance of getting crumbs of Shen Qingqiu's life.
Except, unlike Mu Qingfang, he had the excuse of being young and smitten.
Some things were simply unfair.
It's not like Mu Qingfang never wanted to slide between his Shixiong's sheets... and then his thighs... and then move back and forth, taking his Shixiong in every way he'd let him have himself, but giving him all the pleasure he could through decades of medical knowledge both from the cultivation and mortal world.
For the chance of having him, Mu Qingfang would even reach the gods to beg them for their teachings. If that's all it took to be able to grant pleasure to the most wonderful, beautiful, seductive peak lord of the sect, who made everyone fall so in love with him without even trying or noticing...
But Shen-shixiong would never ask.
At least Shen Qingqiu would never notice his disciple's efforts either. The whole of Cang Qiong was in this boat of failure together, with the only lesbian Qi Qingqi watching on and patting herself on the head for never learning to tolerate dick enough to even peg (unlike some more flexible colleagues of theirs).
There was some spiteful delight in that thought.
Was this how the pre-qi deviation Shen Qingqiu felt on a regular basis? The experience was... quite interesting.
Mu Qingfang offered more tea to his Shixiong.
"Ah, I'm afraid I must go," Shen Qingqiu told him gently, acting as if he didn't know he would be depriving Mu Qingfang of the pleasure of his company for an intolerably long time. He probably truly didn't know. Mu Qingfang still couldn't decide whether to find this obliviousness annoying or endearing. "There are peak lord duties to attend to, as I'm sure my Shidi is quite aware."
Indeed. Considering this Shidi was so much more responsible regarding his own duties than Shen Qingqiu could ever be.
At least he was still more responsible than half of their colleagues.
Mu Qingfang wanted to encircle that slim waist hidden by voluminous clothes within his arms, and drag his Shixiong until there were no gaps left, and kiss him roughly and bitingly, punishing Shen Qingqiu for all the hearts he'd taken.
And make him stay. On his peak. In his life.
But what could Mu Qingfang really do? If Shen Qingqiu was happiest on Qing Jing with his little disciples and his Binghe most of all... he had no choice but to allow it.
He liked seeing Shen Qingqiu free and joyful, released from the invisible burden he always seemed to carry on his shoulders despite so many people in the sect jumping to spare him from any burdens that might ail him, just for the opportunity to see his eyes light up, to see him enjoy life rather than shut himself off from it behind the seemingly thin but in reality impenetrable walls of the bamboo house that stood aloof. So far above mortals on the mountain just like its master.
Mu Qingfang, too, worked hard to free him of his worries, of his troubles. Worked on Without a Cure for him, every day putting in extra hours and sparing neither effort nor money to procure ingredients for experimental medicine and rare tomes. He would even resurrect his old connections with demon dealers to buy demon tomes on auctions, ones that had never marred with their presence the righteous shelves of Qing Jing peak's enormous library.
He would buy candies, and pies, and cakes with sweet fillings, competing with the rest of the whole Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. A single stray smile in his direcftion was enough reward.
He would put aside some time just to get acquainted with the culture his Shixiong so adored. Plays, books, artworks...
He would pass by artisan markets during festivals, paying attention to the delicate embroidery on robes, to the skillfully painted fans spread out by merchants in brocade boxes, to attentively crafted jade crowns and hair pins he had never cared for before, preferring to wear simple, practical things that wouldn't get damaged during his experiments or travels to heal people below the mountain.
Before, all he had cared about used to be his medicine garden, his alchemy halls, and the spot of quiet in his room. But then Shen Qingqiu came and brightened his world with his soft, secretive smiles, and populated it with tales of characters who were not real but brought such joy into his Shixiong's life they might as well exist.
How could Mu Qingfang deny the importance of anything that brought such life to Shen Qingqiu's eyes?
True, Mu Qingfan would never grasp Shen Qingqiu forcefully. Would never hold him without his consent, would never pry his lips apart and slip inside to chase his pleasure. He was not that kind of person.
But-
Vision of red rope winding around that seductive body, rubbing sensitive places raw.
Vision of Shen Qingqiu spread on the bed of the Qian Cao Peak, inner robes askew and revealing far more than what is proper for any predator to see.
Vision of Shen Qingqiu pulling his hair up and pinning it, revealing a sliver of his nape that beckoned each beholder to take a bite.
-But by all the deities did he want to be.