Chapter Text
In all honesty, after reading the original goods’ diary the very first night of his involuntary transmigration, Shen Yuan had never really thought about his body’s backstory much after that. The sickly son of a fabric merchant, he was deemed to be useless before he could even walk – too weak to take over the family business, and lacking the ability because he was never given a chance, the original Shen Yuan was sent to Cang Qiong to die.
There was no reason for Shen Yuan to miss something from someone else’s story, and with the perspective of an outsider, he could not care less about such callous and cruel people, so willing to throw away their own child simply because they were sick.
Shen Yuan’s own family had done the complete opposite; his parents made sure they accompanied him to every doctor’s appointment, held his hand when he was a child when he would cry getting his blood drawn, and would buy him copious amounts of terribly written books to keep him occupied in hospital.
His siblings had also visited him frequently, and he saw at least one of them every single day in hospital. His younger sister would visit him after she finished school before going to tutoring, regaling him about the latest schoolground gossip. His older brother would wake up early to visit him before work, and if he didn’t work overtime, would bring him some horrible-tasting herbal medicines on his way home. On his days off, he would even come during the day to tutor Shen Yuan if he was struggling with coursework; a little overbearing, and a lot of nagging, but in hindsight Shen Yuan realised that it was because he cared.
They all did.
The same could not be said for the parents of the original goods.
So, for the original’s so-called ‘parents’, Shen Yuan felt less than apathy; he held a mild distaste for these people he had never met, and at the same time, held his now faraway family even closer to his heart.
So, considering he had not wasted a moment of thought on these people for the three years he had been in this new world, he did not expect to be confronted with this ‘family’ of his in the middle of an autumn festival near the base of Cang Qiong.
Having rushed to see lots of the attractions, and subsequently beginning to feel a little light-headed because of it, both Mu Xiaojian and Liu Fengge had rushed off to procure remedies for him; in the healer’s case to fetch a refreshing drink, and in the Bai Zhan disciple’s case, some proper food to get his blood sugar up better than the tanghulu he was pathetically sucking on.
And that was how the transmigrator found himself standing beside a river bank and sucking half-heartedly on a stick of tanghulu, leaving him open to attack.
Shen Yuan had just started rolling a ball of tanghulu in his mouth when a woman rushed up to him, frantically hugging him as he quickly chomped on the candy and swallowed – more like choked – with a startled yelp. Shen Yuan blinked blankly as the woman proceeded to enthusiastically sob into his now-sullied Qing Jing Robes.
“Uh…” Shen Yuan said eloquently, his hands orbiting this unfamiliar woman awkwardly, his half-eaten tanghulu stick floating aimlessly in the autumn air.
“Xiao Yuan, oh, my sweet Xiao Yuan,” the woman sobbed, Shen Yuan now looking down at the top of her head, for she was much shorter than him. The crown of her head was a powdery black, caked with what almost looked like soot to likely cover the sheen of grey hairs that were sprouting there. The scent of her perfume was an onslaught, something offensively pungent that someone less knowledgeable might believe was exquisiteness – but, having grown under Lai Mingcheng’s care, Shen Yuan knew that this blanket of scent was simply peacocking.
The material of the robes themselves were of somewhat good quality, though they could not be compared to what is procured by Cang Qiong Mountain Sect for even their youngest disciples. The woman’s robes were brightly coloured, almost jarringly so, and they stood stark compared to Shen Yuan’s light garb.
When the woman eventually pulled back, Shen Yuan was still shocked speechless, but he quickly put the pieces together the moment he saw her face. Though he had never seen the original goods’ parents, he had grown familiar with his own face, which had been eerily similar to his original one in the first place. When he saw the woman, though weathered with mortal age and altered by makeup, Shen Yuan could see the similarities in the slope of their eyes and the curve of their noses. The appearance, coupled with the affectionate way he called for him, it was clear this was the original goods’ mother.
And Shen Yuan was not in the mood to deal with this sort of character.
“Furen, this disciple apologises, but I believe you may be mistaken,” Shen Yuan said politely, manoeuvring himself out of her vice grip with the deft, practised movements of a cultivator. The woman sniffled, a wet, thick sound, and grabbed onto his arms again.
“Xiao Yuan, do you not recognise your own mother?” another voice said gruffly, Shen Yuan’s eyes turning to another middle-aged man with a long beard and equally garish robes. His mouth was set into a hard line, but the curvature of his lip’s bow was a dead ringer for Shen Yuan’s, though one was usually softened by a gentle smile. When Shen Yuan didn’t respond the man continued, clearing his throat as he cupped his hands behind his back in an overly casual manner.
“After all these years, even after we tried to visit you many times, you can forget your own parents’ faces so quickly?” the man said again, looking Shen Yuan up and down.
“Yes, Xiao Yuan – how could you not come visit your poor parents after all this time?”
Shen Yuan’s face twitched at the display.
It was true, that for the past few years the original goods’ parents had tried to visit him at the sect during the visiting days the sect held, but Shen Yuan had been far too busy to even entertain the idea – which was good for him, since he did not want anything to do with these kinds of people any way. Lai Mingcheng didn’t seem to care either way that Shen Yuan was blatantly ignoring his parents, and considering he was the Qing Jing Peak Lord, Shen Yuan was sure he had some sort of inkling about what feelings there were between him and the original’s family.
Looking at the two now, it was clear why they had suddenly wanted to bring him back into the fold; it was not unknown that Shen Yuan was now the Qing Jing Peak Lord’s Head Disciple, and that itself was seen as a status symbol – not that Shen Yuan cared all that much. To him, the title just meant more paper work! More sleepless nights! More stress!
Shen Yuan could imagine, now with their faces before him, what kind of twisted expressions they must have made when they found out the son they had cast away to die had instead flourished under the care of others.
Already holding a poor image of these people in his heart, the way they were acting now did nothing to improve it.
Smiling without warmth, Shen Yuan stepped out of the woman’s grasp again, nodding his head in a minute bow.
“Apologies, Daren, Furen – this disciple truly believes you have mistaken me for someone else. If you will excuse me, I must find my companions,” Shen Yuan said, beginning to side-step out of the way, but was stopped as the original’s parents hastily halted him by blocking his path.
“Xiao Yuan, why are you acting like this? We know we are not mistaken, of course we would recognise our son! And, and our son is the Head Disciple of Cang Qiong’s Qing Jing Peak, and we heard from the vendors that you were here,” the woman said, Shen Yuan rolling his eyes when he saw the husband pinch the wife from behind. “B-But of course, it was to be expected that our son showed such promise! That is why we sent you to Cang Qiong, because we knew your potential!”
“Yes, son. You have carried our family name proudly,” the man said, looking Shen Yuan in the eye. Shen Yuan did not look away, the man coughing and diverting his gaze after a second too long. “Ahem. That is, son, is it not time you came to pay a visit home? The others in town have not seen you in years. You were always unwell, they will be… very pleased to see that you have grown up exquisitely.”
‘Ah, so now they just want to show me off like some kind of weird trophy? After they wished for me – or at least, the original goods – to die? I think the fuck not!’
Shen Yuan, beginning to lose even his profound patience, stared at the two firmly.
“Daren, Furen, you have the wrong person, for this disciple is not aware that he has any parents to speak of,” Shen Yuan said coolly, the woman’s eyes beginning to leak again as the man’s face grew as red as Shen Yuan’s ruby tanghulu.
“You insolent-”
“Shixiong? Is something the matter?”
Shen Yuan almost melted in relief when he heard Mu Xiaojian’s calm voice speak from behind him, the healer placing a hand on his shoulder as Liu Fengge stomped his way to stand on his other side, angling his body to discreetly stand between Shen Yuan and the original’s parents.
“There is no problem,” Shen Yuan said, turning to give Mu Xiaojian a grateful look, the healer squeezing his shoulder in understanding. “It seems they have mistaken me for someone else.”
“Xiao Yuan, why are you being like this? It’s us, your Baba and Mama,” the woman blabbered, Liu Fengge’s face twisting with disgust as she tried to reach for Shen Yuan again. A click of Liu Fengge’s tongue made the woman’s hands falter, a shiver trickling down her back at the heated glare Liu Fengge bore into her head.
“Shen Yuan, cease this foolish act this instant,” the original goods’ father snapped, completely losing his patience, his true personality and intent leaking out. “Who are you to act so high and mighty before us, the people that gifted you with life? Is this how you treat your parents, the ones who got you into the Sect in the first place? You have let your power and position get to your head, treating your parents like this! Without us, who would you be now?!”
“Shut your mouth,” Liu Fengge growled, hand moving to his waist where his sword hung, but Shen Yuan shook his head and shoved his stick of tanghulu into Liu Fengge’s trigger-happy hand. The Bai Zhan disciple stared at the half-eaten stick, uncomprehending, as Shen Yuan crossed his arms over his chest.
“Furen, Daren, let this disciple speak plainly for you to understand,” Shen Yuan said, taking one step forward. He almost smiled when the man and woman faltered, instinctively taking a step back.
“This disciple is not your son. You see, this disciple’s health has never been good, and it is said that I have been plagued by illness since birth. In fact, this disciple was not expected to survive the gruelling entrance exam for Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. It is surprising, is it not, for a child who could barely walk from home to the town square to be sent to do such a test? One must wonder what the guardians of such a child were thinking, because surely they would have expected their son to die. What kind of monsters would condemn their only son, plied with drugs that made him unable to distinguish between night and day, to such a pitiful death?”
The original goods’ parent’s faces began to drain of colour, which only served to make their garishly bright robes even more offensive to the eye.
“Of course, Furen and Daren, surely upstanding citizens like yourselves would never do such a thing to your son. It was truly a miracle that this one managed to survive despite being condemned to death by my parents. Or, maybe not a miracle, but because of the people that were around me,” Shen Yuan said, turning to Mu Xiaojian and Liu Fengge, who stepped forward as well, turning their noses up as the middle-aged couple took another step back.
“And,” Shen Yuan continued, staring at the father in the eye. “It is because of this disciple’s will. It is because of Cang Qiong that this one has been able to develop his skills, which had been crushed since birth. While this one’s parents did not believe that their son could be anything other than another dead body to bury, Cang Qiong and my Shizun thought differently, and gave me a chance. Surely, Daren and Furen are not people that would, let us say, treat their son as useless trash and prayed for his quick demise? Mu-shidi, do these people look like they could do such a horrible thing?”
“Yes, Shixiong,” Mu Xiaojian said, looking at the couple with a smile devoid of any emotion. “This disciple cannot imagine what kind of monstrous people would do such a thing. Surely, if people were to know who your parents were, they would run them out of the village for doing something so despicable.”
“After a good beating first,” Liu Fengge added, thumb circling the hilt of his blade, the mother almost stumbling back now.
“So, Furen, Daren,” Shen Yuan said, raising a brow in challenge. “Surely, such esteemed persons like yourselves cannot possibly be my despicable parents that wished for me to die?”
At this point, villagers that had been enjoying the view of the river began glancing at the group, murmuring about what was going on. Some recognised the robes worn by the disciples, and some recognised the disciples personally, since they were often sent on commissions for such nearby towns.
With the stares of the crowd and the fluttering wings of the beginnings of whispers, the original goods’ parents scrambled to reply.
But, Shen Yuan did not give them a chance to respond, simply bowing his head.
“As this one said, Daren and Furen are upstanding people that would never treat their son in such a way. As Daren and Furen are clearly mistaken, this disciple will take his leave.”
Shen Yuan turned, dark hair fluttering as his robes swished elegantly, a perfect picture of immortal grace. Seeing the retreating back of the cultivator, who was no doubt their son and yet so different from that weak, useless thing they gave birth to, the disavowed parents were only left with the bitter taste of regret and frustration, hating that they cut their losses too soon.
Shen Yuan walked along the river, staring at the way the moon reflected on its softly rippling surface, before stopping beneath a tree blessed by an abundance of golden leaves. Peering into the river, Shen Yuan saw his reflection, the one he had long since gotten used to.
For a brief second, he saw a flash of his old face; short hair, glasses and a little more gaunt. And then he saw a handful of figures appear around him – a young girl with a bubbly face, a man with handsome but stern features, and an older man and woman, arms linked and smiling.
And then the image disappeared, and it was only his reflection left. But it was strange, because Shen Yuan felt his eyes glistening, and yet the reflection was simply smiling with relaxed and accepting eyes.
A flurry of golden leaves flew into the sky at a cool gust of wind, whipping up around Shen Yuan, creating a sunset haze of leaves. The wind rippled across the water, blurring the reflection.
Closing his eyes against the breeze, Shen Yuan only opened them again in surprise when the flurry of leaves seemed to gently brush his cheek.
‘Thank you, for letting me be what I wasn’t given the chance to become,’ something whispered, just before the leaves trailed off, following the wind into the distance.
Whether it was just a trick of Shen Yuan’s mind, or some sort of lingering spirit, Shen Yuan answered anyway.
“And thank you for letting me live your life,” Shen Yuan murmured, before growing dizzy. Shen Yuan stumbled back, hitting Liu Fengge’s deceivingly sturdy chest, Mu Xiaojian already feeling his wrist to check his meridians.
“Shixiong, should we head back to the Sect?” Mu Xiaojian asked, the transmigrator nodding, before pausing.
“Ah… after maybe getting something to eat?” Shen Yuan said hopefully, Liu Fengge snorting as he handed Shen Yuan his tanghulu back.
“Glutton.”
“A good appetite is a sign of good health,” Mu Xiaojian said more politely, Liu Fengge rolling his eyes at that.
The trio, putting the events with the original goods’ parents behind them, enjoyed the rest of the festival – so much so, that they were late for their curfew, causing them to hastily sneak back to the Sect under the cover of darkness, trying not to laugh all the way.
“You know,” Mu Xiaojian whispered as they tiptoed their way to a more secluded staircase leading up to the mountain, smiling as he turned his head to look at the Qing Jing Peak disciple under the glow of moonlight. “Those… people earlier. They did end up doing one thing right.”
“Mn,” Liu Fengge said quietly from where he was keeping a lookout for the night guards, jerking his fingers in a ‘let’s go’ motion when it was all clear.
“Hm? What did they do?” Shen Yuan whispered back as they rounded the corner, raising a brow as My Xiaojian stifled a laugh, Liu Fengge rolling his eyes and starting to creep up the stone steps.
“They sent you to Cang Qiong,” Mu Xiaojian murmured as he leaned into Shen Yuan’s ear, before nudging the transmigrator’s arm as he too began up the steps. The wind blew, the remnants of the sugary stickiness of the tanghulu sweet on Shen Yuan’s tongue.
Liu Fengge turned and jerked his head.
“Are you coming home or not?” Liu Fengge mouthed, Shen Yuan’s heart swelling as he nodded, stepping upwards with a soaring lightness.
‘Yeah, I’m coming home.’
~~~
When Shen Yuan was trying to sneak past his Shizun’s bamboo house to get to his dorm, he almost shit himself when a towering shadow appeared at the door like an apparition.
“Shen Yuan has returned late,” Lai Mingcheng said, tapping his fan in the palm of his hand. The Peak Lord’s face was expressionless, but Shen Yuan noticed the slight way the corner of his mouth was downturned.
Shen Yuan immediately bowed deeply, now probably, actually shitting himself.
“Apologies, Shizun! There was a… a slight altercation,” Shen Yuan said, Lai Mingcheng humming thoughtfully.
“Go on.”
“Yes, Shizun! At the festival, this disciple, ahem, was… confronted with his… with people claiming to be his birth parents,” Shen Yuan said, Lai Mingcheng remaining silent. Crickets seemed to chirp in the distance, and Shen Yuan’s back was beginning to hurt from maintaining the bow for so long.
After far too long, Shen Yuan felt Lai Mingcheng’s fan rap the top of his bent head slightly, making him raise it.
“This master is sure Shen Yuan cleared them of any confusion,” Lai Mingcheng said, before holding out an upturned palm. Shen Yuan, well-versed now, placed his wrist there for his master to check his meridians before nodding.
“Yes, Shizun.”
“Mm. It seems the late night did not affect your health significantly,” Lai Mingcheng said, dropping Shen Yuan’s wrist as the disciple bowed again.
“Yes, Shizun.”
“Go rest now, it is late,” Lai Mingcheng said after a beat, Shen Yuan cupping his hands.
“Yes, Shizun.”
“Rest well,” Lai Mingcheng said, Shen Yuan looking at his Shizun in surprise at the uncharacteristically gentle words.
“Yes, Shizun. This disciple thanks Shizun,” Shen Yuan said, beginning to head off to the dorms, but not before tripping when he heard Lai Mingcheng’s final parting words.
“And this master expects Shen Yuan to report to the bamboo house for his punishment for breaking curfew at sunrise.”
‘Shizun!!’