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Mu Qingfang stares hard into one of the drawers of his personal apothecary and does his best to ignore the man generating an ire so intense it feels like a physical weight from the other side of the room. There will likely be an upsurge of injuries and qi imbalances among the peak lords in the immediate future, he'll need to lay in stores of several medications in advance—
Whatever the original intent of the artifact that has caused this mess was, Mu Qingfang thinks, it's definitely a curse now.
The Qing generation are recently ascended to their positions—but not so recently ascended that Mu Qingfang doesn't feel like he shouldn't have seen this coming. Betting on some kind of disaster occurring at the quarterly peak lord meetings is like betting that you'll jump into a river and end up with wet feet.
What kind of disaster however…
"I don't know," Liu Qingge had said, poking at the artifact he had laid in the middle of the room. It looked, to Mu Qjngfang's admittedly limited aesthetic knowledge, like a child had attempted to throw a ceramic vase which had then, for some reason, been very expensively glazed. It was probably Art. "It was in an abandoned temple. It's got—" he seemed to consider for a moment. "Weird energy."
"Liu-shidi's analysis as ever is astonishing," Shen Qingqiu said, poisonous smile only half-hidden behind his fan.
"You!"
"Ah, shidimen," Yue Qingyuan interjected, before Liu Qingge could work up a good shout, "please, let us focus on the issue Liu-shidi has brought to the meeting."
Mu Qingfang saw Shen Qingqiu flash another smirk at Liu Qingge and watched him puff up like a three footed crow that had gotten caught out in the rain. At that point what happened next was probably inevitable.
"If Shen Qingqiu thinks he can provide better answers he's welcome to try!" Liu Qingge barked. "The energy gets more weird whenever it's exposed to qi. Even standing near it I can feel it, but look—"
From across the room Mu Qingfang watched Liu Qingge press a hand glowing with qi against the artifact as he, Shen Qingqiu, He Qingrui, and, oddly, Shang Qinghua, all shouted variations on don't touch that thing—
The artifact pushed out a wave of (admittedly, very strange) energy in a wall that struck with physical force. Peak lords and tables went flying, and Shang Qinghua was lucky to avoid being skewered by his own writing brush, which hit the wall at speed and stuck there.
"Brute!" Shen Qingqiu snarled as he extricated himself from the furniture where he'd landed next to Mu Qingfang. "This master knows he shouldn't expect any one thought to encounter another on its lonely journey through your skull, but surely even you in your idiot self-preservation should know not to argh—"
Mu Qingfang felt a yank against his core as Shen Qingqiu leapt over fallen peak lords towards Liu Qingge and the artifact at the far end of the room.
"Oh my god," shrilled Shang Qinghua, who had been simultaneously trying to shuffle away from the glowering War God. "We're stuck! It glued our golden cores together! I'm going to die!"
Shang Qinghua's initial assessment of what the artifact had done wasn't exactly accurate but it wasn't…inaccurate either, really. It seemed whichever pairs of peak lords had been closest when the artifact activated now had their golden cores bonded in such a way that they could not separate much more than the length of a room without risking qi deviation or other damage.
The responses to this revelation had been, generally. Poor.
Shen Qingqiu had gone quiet and pale, staring fixedly at the artifact, though to Mu Qingfang's eye he didn't appear to be seeing anything. Shang Qinghua, who had been closest to Liu Qingge, was now in a corner whimpering. Qi Qingqi, attached to the Zui Xian peak lord Li Qingshi, had immediately started an argument with her.
"Is this affliction familiar at all to Mu-shidi or He-shidi?" Yue Qingyuan asked, while the Beast peak's Huang Qingyi hovered behind him looking like he was about to vomit.
"This shidi has never heard of such a curse," He Qingrui said, though Mu Qingfang expected he would be putting all his energy into discovering the requirements to break such a curse, if the dark looks the Ku Xing lord was sending Wei Qingwei were any indication.
"This shidi is not familiar with such an affliction either, though it might be said to mimic the qi-sharing during the peak of dual cultivation," Mu Qingfang mused. "The key will be disentangling the cursed pairs' qi without damaging their golden cores, if it comes to that. This shidi will research diligently."
Qi Qingqi and Li Qingshi's argument had escalated into full hand to hand combat. Yue Qingyuan's smile was decidedly strained as he said, "This shixiong is certain all of the peak lords will be doing so."
Mu Qingfang had expected Shen Qingqiu to be in a temper; though he hadn't interacted much with him outside of the mandatory meetings, he believed he's seen enough of this shixiong to anticipate his response to this…forced cohabitation. But Shen Qingqiu had merely looked at him, still pale and unfocused, and said, flatly, "The peak lord of Qian Cao's work is not easily moved across the sect, is it? Lead, shidi," then trailed Mu Qingfang to his office in icy silence.
Well.
On arrival, Shen Qingqiu had stalked around Mu Qingfang's office looking like nothing so much as a feral cat with its back up before wedging himself into a corner and sending off a dozen qi messages without a pause. This started a tide of Qing Jing disciples running in and out of the office ferrying books, scrolls, talisman writing supplies, more books, cinnabar, more books…
Mu Qingfang can feel the light tug on his golden core as Shen Qingqiu activates each qi message, as he pulls on qi to create talismans. It's not painful but it's…strange. If this curse didn't come with the obvious drawbacks, it's one he would be fascinated to study—how are the cores linked enough to allow qi draw with no actual physical contact? Could he pull on a martial sibling's qi in such a situation, without causing damage? The implications for emergency care—
He can sense Shen Qingqiu becoming agitated through the strange bond in their cores, so he has no excuse in only noticing that his shixiong is slipping into qi deviation until he glances up from his own work to see a trickle of blood sliding down one of Shen Qingqiu's cheeks.
"Shen-shixiong!" He bolts across the room in time to catch him as he tips sideways. The air in the room feels charged; the rising smell of lightning is worrying. Mu Qingfang tests the pulse at Shen Qingqiu's throat and sends a testing thread of qi out into—
—devastation.
How. How hadn't he been aware of this?
Mu Qingfang sits next to his unconscious (kept unconscious, he may have received a shock but he wasn't a fool) shixiong for half a shichen, feeding him qi and thinking. Was it truly possible that Shen Qingqiu had avoided receiving medical care so assiduously that Mu Qingfang had never had cause to inspect his meridians until this point? His shizun had conducted Shen-shixiong's initial exam after his admission to the sect, and had reportedly made recommendations to the previous Qing Jing peak lord that Mu Qingfang expects…were not followed by the actual patient in question.
He isn't at all surprised. Within the eleven other peak lords alone, Mu Qingfang has had to contend with all manner of 'rub dirt on it', 'walk it off', 'ignore it and it'll go away' approaches to stab wounds, venomous monster bites, compound fractures, aphrodisiac poisoning…this would just be another item on his long list of health issues his martial siblings had ignored. However. It feels like a failure in himself as well, that his shixiong's health has been so neglected.
He narrows his eyes and considers his shixiong.
When Shen Qingqiu wakes, it is noticeable only in the break in his breathing pattern—an inhale held too long in tension. "Shixiong had a minor qi deviation," Mu Qingfang says, in the principle of prevention besting intervention, especially in cases where intervention means you're likely to be stabbed. "This Mu provided treatment, but Shen-shixiong will still likely be feeling some effects—"
Shen Qingqiu cracks his eyes open to glare up at the ceiling. "And what does Mu Qingfang expect in return for his assistance that was neither requested nor desired?"
"This shidi expects nothing, except perhaps that Shen-shixiong follow medical advice in his recovery. And regardless of his desire for help, it is owed to Shen-shixiong—"
The crack of a laugh Shen Qingqiu lets out is ugly. "Owed? When has anyone ever handed anything to this Shen that hasn't turned to poison? This one could ascend to the heavens and fools who have never seen a day of adversity would still be pulling me in front of the blade over and over again!"
Mu Qingfang can feel Shen Qingqiu's qi beginning to destabilize again. The pull against his golden core feels like someone yanking at a rope. He is suddenly struck with an idea of the sort that often caused his shizun to threaten to run him off the peak.
"Shen-shixiong is correct that he did not ask for this Mu's assistance, nor was it either of our choice to be in this situation," he says, beginning to channel qi again (carefully, so carefully) through Shen Qingqiu's twisted and scarred meridians. "However, this shidi will continue to make himself available to Shen-shixiong, and finds himself with a unique capacity to do so. Indeed, until this curse is resolved, Shen-shixiong should not hesitate in calling upon this Mu's qi reserves."
It may be the first time anyone has ever been startled out of a qi deviation. Mu Qingfang will have to note this for future study!
Contrary to the beliefs of some peak lords (Liu Qingge) and because he does enjoy having evenings where his meditation isn't interrupted by having to reattach a limb, Mu Qingfang does not live in his office at the Qian Cao main clinic.
He leads Shen Qingqiu that night to his home at the back edge of the peak, the small house mostly hidden by a large ginkgo tree and an (overgrown, admittedly) front garden.
"Every single one of those plants is poisonous," Shen Qingqiu says, staring at his garden with the wide-eyed, bewildered expression that hasn't left his face since Mu Qingfang's earlier declaration.
"Ah, well. My shizun was a dedicated gardener and it seemed a shame to rip it all out after she ascended," he explains. "Though this shidi is afraid he has let it get out of hand a bit. It does help discourage people from coming to bother this one for things that may be...less than emergent, at home."
Shen Qingqiu pulls a fan from his sleeve and snaps it open in front of his face to hide the snort that Mu Qingfang still hears. It's oddly endearing.
His shixiong circles him warily for several days. Mu Qingfang's initial observation that his shixiong is like a feral cat only becomes firmer with time—Shen Qingqiu seems most comfortable approaching when unobserved, has a tendency to hiss, and, apparently, will doze if left undisturbed in a warm sunny spot (though Mu Qingfang would not ever admit he had seen the last behavior exhibited except under truth serum).
Mu Qingfang isn't sure what he's watching for, but either Shen Qingqiu finds it (or doesn't) and that satisfies him to the point that he is now...a tripping hazard.
They've been forced into close quarters, of course, but now every time he turns around Shen Qingqiu is. There. Pointedly not looking at him and close enough that their sleeves brush when he moves. His qi messages to his disciples had slowed to a handful a day after that first frantic rush (likely to the significant gratitude of the Qing Jing library runners), so there are fewer sudden draws on their joint qi reserves. Mu Qingfang feels a constant slight tug from Shen Qingqiu's side; he can't tell if his shixiong is actually doing anything to pull on his qi or if this is another test.
"Mu-shidi hasn't been sleeping," Shen Qingqiu says, suddenly, on the evening of the fourth day. They'd returned to his home on the pretense that they would both rest, as they had every evening so far. The pattern they had fallen into was that Mu Qingfang would sit in his personal library and fail to find any reference to golden core-binding curses or diseases, while Shen Qingqiu would similarly fail to hide the fact that he was staring at him from the daybed and write stacks of talismans that he would later light on fire. (They had tried sitting one on either side of a wall so that Shen Qingqiu could use his guest room, once; both of them had started bleeding from the eyes so the experiment had not been repeated.)
"Shen-shixiong hasn't been sleeping either," Mu Qingfang points out, reasonably. This is, of course, waved away.
"Mu-shidi made himself available to this Shen, but what use is he if he looks ready to deviate himself from sheer exhaustion?"
Mu Qingfang doesn't laugh but his face must do something, because Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes and then yanks Mu Qingfang down next to him on the daybed.
"This Shen does this for no one, so shidi should lie still and appreciate it," he says, pulling a qin out of a qiankun space and settling it over his lap. In the process of settling, Mu Qingfang's head has landed on his knee. He lies still and says nothing.
It is no mystery to Mu Qingfang why Shen Qingqiu doesn't play for anyone, if his music is like this. It sounds like he's bled over these strings; might still be bleeding into them. Mu Qingfang lies curled up against his shixiong, and he feels like his heart is being plucked up into his throat with each ringing note, each quaver falling into silence. The bond between their golden cores rings like a struck chime.
"Shidi is supposed to be resting," Shen Qingqiu says, after a shichen of this.
Mu Qingfang laughs.
The next morning a peak lord meeting is called to announce that a cure has been found for the curse, by Shang Qinghua (a dark horse in this, certainly) and that it is—nothing?
"Yeah, it's going to wear off in another two days," he says, sitting hunched over with his cheek smashed against the table and staring off into the distance. "Counting down the shichen and all that."
"I'm so glad this is a curse we can wait out and not one of those that needs you to share your darkest secret or something apalling like that to break it," Qi Qingqi says. Between the haphazard way her hairpins are arranged and the singed look to the edge of her robes, Mu Qingfang is determinedly not considering what may be happening during her residence on Zui Xian.
"Haha yeah wouldn't that be wild. So glad this definitely isn't one of those," Shang Qinghua says. "Can we all agree to never do this again."
"This shidi was actually interested in the effects of the curse for medical purposes—" Mu Qingfang begins, before the room erupts into general shouting and sounds of dismay. He's ready to state his case—! But Shen Qingqiu grabs the back of his robes and pulls him out of the room.
Ah, well. He can get cursed for science some other time.