Chapter Text
Chapter 1
The floor tastes like his own blood, and damp stone. The sharp metal scrapes his teeth and slice into his tongue as he forces them into his mouth.
At one point he would have chosen to rip his tongue from his mouth than eat off any floor again, let alone the floor of his personal prison. Even this close to his own death his mind screams and thrashes against the indignity of it.
Survival always came at the cost of his dignitary.
It's fitting then that death would cost much the same.
Broken shards ripped though the fragile flesh of his throat, as he forces himself to swallow. His throat burns familiar; cutting agony as his throat contracts against his will, trying expel what does not belong. He thinks he might loose this fight as well, as his body tries to force him to cough up the broken blade.
For once the gods he has long cursed take their sick pity on him. The forceful constricting of his throat forces the shards deeper into soft flesh.
He swallows once more through the burning. He feels something pop with a bright flash of pain, hears it ring out in his head too. His mouth fills with blood in an instant.
So much, so fast that he spits it up like a helpless babe. It flows from his mouth thick and metallic. He can't pull his hair out of the way anymore, it hangs limply around him and he is given no choice but to let the blood coat and congeal over what used to be his least objectionable feature.
Blood bubbles up from his throat endlessly, oozing from his mouth as the cell begins to darken, impossibility more. It spreads out around him. A bloody halo for his ruined body to match his ruined soul.
Nothing more then he deserves.
Nothing less.
Light blooms over the bloody scene, someone shouts, hands come over his blood stained face. He cannot see the light, or hear the voice; he is already gone.
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[LOADING USER INFORMATION]
[SOUL: SHEN JIU]
[ROLE: SCUM VILLAIN]
[ROLE STATUS: COMPLETE]
[EARNED: COMPLETE REINCARNATION]
[STATUS: SEARCHING APPROPRIATE WORLDS]
[LOADING… ]
[WORLD FOUND:
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DOMAIN TYPE: UNSCRIPTED
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NEW USER: SHEN JIUZHEN]
[PROGRESSING SOUL UPLOAD… ]
[LOADING…16%: ▮▯▯▯▯▯]
[LOADING…34%: ▮▮▯▯▯▯]
[LOADING…51% ▮▮▮▯▯▯]
[LOADING…6̷̥̇5̷̯̀%̶͍̎ ̷̦͛▮̵̮͝▮̴͇̋▮̴͔̍▮̴͉̓▯̸̘̈́▯̴̦̇]̴̯͝
[LOADING…ERROR]
[CATASTROPHIC FAILURE]
[RE-ROUTING SOUL: PARTIAL MATCH FOUND]
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DOMAIN TYPE: SEMI SCRIPTED
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NEW USER: NULL
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REINCARNATION TYPE: PARTIAL
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INSTALLING: USER COMPENSATION PACKAGE]
[SOUL UPLOAD…99% ▮▮▮▮▮▮]
[SOUL UPLOAD: COMPLETE]
[WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVENIENCE]
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Pain.
Bone deep agony.
There is nothing.
There is Pain.
Something sharp slicing through him.
Precise hands digging into the flesh of his body, carefully pulling him apart. Splitting him in two, down to his meridians.
Nothing but Endless, tearing, agony.
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"Xiao-Jiu please—"
"Do not call me that."
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Shen Jiu surfaces from the nothing. His entire body screams, and the first thing he does before even opening his eyes, is bite down hard on his tongue— till he tastes blood. Strangling the pained moan trying to crawl from his throat. Only once he's sure he can keep quiet, does he let himself begin to take in his surroundings.
One careful breath, deep enough to pull the scent of his surroundings in, but not enough to tip off anyone who might be near to the fact that he's awake. The air around him is tinged with a thick herbal tang. More so then the average kitchen. It smells almost like the balms Qiu Jianluo likes to shove at him, after the older boy gets too carried away. But stronger, more potent. The reminder fills him with a blind, hateful fear; did he not actually escape? Did Qiu Jianluo survive somehow? He fights the growing panic, the need to bolt up and find the nearest weapon. His hands grip tightly at the soft linen beneath, as he forces himself to take in his surroundings through the panic.
The first thing he notices is the bed underneath him. It is more comfortable then anything he's ever willingly slept in. Not decadent though; good quality but still practical.
The second thing he notices is his lack of restraints. Obviously wherever he is the people here don't consider him enough of a threat to tie him down.
Carefully he cracks one eye open, taking in the sparse room around him through his lashes. It's well kept, utilitarian, but casual wealth drips from every corner of the room. Once he's sure he's fully alone Shen Jiu finally lets his eye's flutter open fully. His vision feels off, wrong, flatter then usual. Still the disorientation is overshadowed by the deep ache resounding through his body.
"Oh, you’re awake, how are you feeling?"
Shen Jiu bolts upright in the bed, head spinning back and forth trying to find the source of voice. There was a strange man sitting by the exit to the left of him. Shen Jiu's head spins, he was sure that he was alone, how could he not see him? The man stands up, making to move towards him. Shen Jiu glares harshly at the man. His black robes are on the plainer side yet they still look more expensive then all the food Shen Jiu had ever eaten combined.
The man frowns at his standoffish silence and stops part of the way to him. "Do you know who I am?"
Silence.
"Do you know where you are?"
Silence.
"Do you know who you are?"
The slightest twitch.
"What is the last thing you remember?"
Silence once more.
The man strokes his thin mustache as he thinks. After a moment he turns back to grab the stool he had been sitting on, and drags it over to the side of Shen Jiu's bed, sitting down next to him. Shen Jiu stays as still as stone, fighting every urge to shrink away from the strange, wealthy man. He radiates displeasure at the encroachment on his space but otherwise remains silent.
"I'm Mu Qingfang. Do you recognize me?" the man keeps his voice soft, like Shen Jiu is a wild animal liable to spook at any moment. Shen Jiu only glares at the man, unwilling to give these people any information they can use against him. The man sighs, pressing his thumb to the side bridge of his nose in tired frustration.
"I'll start from the beginning then. We are in Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. I am Mu Qingfang, Peak Lord of Qian Cao Peak; the medical peak." He gestures to himself, and then to Shen Jiu "You are Shen Jiu, You are—"
The door of the sickroom slams open. Shen Jiu scrambles back hitting his head against the bed frame in his haste. This stranger is dressed in rich pale greens instead of practical blacks or browns. The man glares down at Shen Jiu with what can only be read as disdain, His cold air of superiority puts Shen Jiu's teeth on edge but he forces himself to match the cold stare with his own burning defiance.
Mu Qingfang grimaces at the loud entrance, before turning to face the man in green. "Shen-Shixiong you should be resting still."
The man — Shen something —ignores Mu Qingfang's gentle reprimand. "What have you told him." He snaps, gesturing sharply at Shen Jiu.
"Nothing much, Simply where we are and who I am. And his name." Mu Qingfang turns back to Shen Jiu. Somehow, that professionally calm smile is still strapped to his face. "This is Shen Qingqiu, Peak Lord of Qing Jing. Do you recognize him by chance?"
Shen Jiu stares at the two men in front of him without a word. Eventually Shen Qingqiu's limited patience snaps. "Are you slow? Answer him brat, we don't have all day."
Shen Jiu glares at this richly dressed, ill-tempered man with growing disdain. Eventually he looks back to Mu Qingfang, and gives a sharp shake of his head. Mu Qingfang gains a thoughtful look, obviously he had been expecting a different answer.
A muscle in Shen Qingqiu's jaw ticks; he doesn't wait for Mu Qingfang before continuing the interrogation. "Well, what do you remember?"
This time Shen Jiu turns his head away from the men watching him. Shen Qingqiu lets out a angry hissing noise, not unlike a cat. But Shen Jiu is distracted by something much more pressing. He turns his head back towards them momentarily, before turning back away, testing something.
Shen Jiu frowns before repeating the gesture.
"It really is slow, what is it doing." Someone— Shen Qingqiu based on the voice— snipes. Despite being only partially turned away from them Shen Jiu cannot, actually see either of them. His periphery cuts off much sooner then it rightfully should, how did he not realize sooner?
"What's wrong—?" A hand he can't see coming lands on Shen Jiu's shoulder, fear and panic course through him in an instant.
"Do not touch me!" He spits, throwing himself in the opposite direction of the feeling, scrambling backwards, heedless of the fact that the bed ends until his hand comes down on nothing but empty air. He tumbles painfully to the floor.
"So it can speak." Shen Qingqiu scoffs.
Shen Jiu glares up at both men. Mu Qingfang is standing in front of him, arm still outstretched, looking very startled. "I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Mu Qingfang says, trying to regain his footing. "Can I look at your eye?"
Shen Jiu stares at the man above him with open distrust, turning his face to the side. Keeping his good side between him and the peak lords.
"I won't touch you I promise. I just want to look at it." Mu Qingfang entreats, putting his hands up where Shen Jiu can see them clearly. Shen Jiu stares at the man for a long moment, before slowly turning back to face him. Mu Qingfang gives him a gentle smile in thanks. In one hand he summons a small ball of bright qi, the light is so concentrated it makes Shen Jiu squint as Mu Qingfang kneels before him to bring it closer. Shen Jiu refuses to flinch at the proximity, as Mu Qingfang moves the light in and around his left side with a growing frown.
Eventually Mu Qingfang asks, "Can you close your right eye for me?"
Shen Jiu glares at him for a short moment before acquiescing. As soon as he does the world around him vanishes into a dark haze. Shen Jiu thinks for a moment that he accidentally closed both eyes, but touching his left eye confirms that no, his left eye is still open. Flickers of light and shadow move though what should be his visual field, but nothing else.
The closest shadow makes a barely discernible gesture. "Can you see when I do this?" Mu Qingfang asks. Shen Jiu bites his tongue, but quickly shakes his head. "Can you see the light at all?"
This time Shen Jiu nods, before thinking better. Giving an inch of his pride to break his silence, and figure out what is happening. "Only somewhat."
Mu Qingfang lets out a thoughtful hum, "You can open your right eye now."
When he does Shen Jiu finds Mu Qingfang sitting on the floor, directly across from him, much closer then he had been when Shen Jiu closed his eye. Shen Jiu's whole body goes rigid. Mu Qingfang obviously notices but doesn't comment just shuffles back slightly, to put more space between them.
"What's wrong with it, is it broken or something?" Shen Qingqiu snipes from the other side of the room, having positioned himself as far away from them as reasonably possible.
"Not helpful, Shen Shixiong." Mu Qingfang sighs, "I can't tell for sure without examining him properly, but from the looks of it he's missing the sight in his left eye."
Shen Jiu blinks. How did he go blind in one eye and not notice the moment he woke up?
"So it is broken. of course." Shen Qingqiu scoffs.
Shen Jiu glares at the foul man, but Mu Qingfang ignores the comment, instead returning his attention back to Shen Jiu. "I know you don't trust me, but it is very important that we know what memories you still have. You don't have to tell us everything. I just need to know whats the last thing you remember before today?"
Shen Jiu frowns, the last thing he remembers? He pushes past the black fog in his mind, reaching backwards for something concrete. Memories slip through his fingers like grains of sand. He remembers being cold, acid mist burning his skin. He remembers the ache of his joints dislocating over and over from laying on the damp stone, the way his hair stuck to his skin, soaked with blood unable to dry in the humid air. he remembers the feeling of clawed fingers buried in his skull, the taste of his own eye as it was shoved down his throat, remembers hanging, suspended and displayed like butchered animal in that dark priso— His mind screams. A horrible, unnatural sound unlike anything he’s ever heard. His head is splitting itself in two. Shen Jiu doubles over in pain, clawing his left eye. He remembers the sword, he remembers burying the sword in Qiu Jianluo's stomach. He remembers the heat of the fire. The sound of that horrible mansion burning while he watched.
When the screaming finally stops, Shen Jiu can feel tears streaming down his face. It makes him angry. Stupid. Weak. Crying in front of strangers. He tries to quickly scrub his face dry, vainly trying to hide his moment of weakness.
Mu Qingfang lets out a strangled sound, causing Shen Jiu to snap his eyes open. The older man is looking at his face with a horrified expression. His hand is half raised towards Shen Jiu. Seemingly caught between trying to help, and Shen Jiu's last reaction to being touched. Shen Jiu presses two fingers to his face, right under his blind eye: It feels wet, like he expected, but it’s not right for some reason. The tears are sticker than they should be. Shen Jiu looks down at his hand, finding it smeared red with blood.
Fear shoots down Shen Jiu's spine, but he shoves it down. Balling his bloody hand into a fist. He stares at the ground. He can tell that these people won't give up, till he tells them something. "A fire." Shen Jiu grits out the words. "That's the last thing I remember."
He refuses to say any more. There are fires all the time, Cang Qiong Mountain Sect is li away from where the Qiu Manor used to be, there's no way they'd be able to connect him to that specific fire. To those specific deaths.
The silence begins to stretch. Shen Jiu thinks that he miscalculated, that maybe they do know, maybe he just signed his death warrant. Shen Jiu flicks his eyes up, watching the men through the curtain of his bangs, under hooded lashes.
Shen Qingqiu is staring at him like Shen Jiu had personally slapped him, Shen Jiu thinks he looks paler too, somehow. Mu Qingfang is turned towards Shen Qingqiu, oddly expecting him to have some understanding of Shen Jiu's words.
The hateful mask shutters over Shen Qingqiu's face as quickly as it broke. He stalks closer to Shen Jiu's spot on the ground. "How old are you boy?"
Shen Jiu has never really known his exact age, he has an estimate based on the way the other slaves spoke of him but nothing so concrete. He opens his mouth to say a much but Shen Qingqiu cuts him off. "I don't care about the details, just what you tell people."
How had he known what Shen Jiu was going to say? Shen Jiu scowls at the man, "Fifteen."
Shen Qingqiu's face twitches slightly, only noticeable because of their proximity. Shen Jiu braces himself for the blow, shoulders hunching up to his ears. It never comes though. Shen Qingqiu's eyes flick from Shen Jiu to Mu Qingfang for a split second before making a sharp sound through his teeth. "That is not how you speak to your betters, boy."
"Shen-Shixiong, cut the boy some slack, he's obviously disorientated." Mu Qingfang chides.
Shen Qingqiu glares at the doctor, unmoved by the boy's pathetic state. Still, he steps aside. "Finish your examination, Mu-Shidi, I'd like to have this mess dealt with as soon as possible."
Mu Qingfang sighs tiredly, but still does as Shen Qingqiu says. "I need to examine your spiritual system. Which requires me to touch your wrist, just right here, like this." As he speaks Mu Qingfang demonstrates on himself, pressing two fingers against the pulse point on his wrist. "I'll channel a small bit of qi to let me assess your spiritual system. Nothing too invasive, I promise." A small flash of pale gold light blooms under Mu Qingfang's fingertips before dissipating.
Shen Jiu stares at him with open distrust, pulling both of his hands to his chest; out of reach, while shoving himself farther back against the wall.
He does not trust this at all. These men who seem to know too much about him, yet nothing at all. Shen Qingqiu lets out an angry growl from his left side, The man dips in and out of his vision as he approaches, too fast from Shen Jiu's blind side. He tries to turn his head to see what Shen Qingqiu is doing but he's not fast enough. Shen Qingqiu's hand strikes out like a viper, faster then Shen Jiu can react. Long bony fingers wrap around Shen Jiu's thin wrist tighter then a shackle. Shen Jiu thrashes violently trying to wrest himself of Shen Qingqiu's grip, but the cultivator remains an unmovable rock in the face of an untrained, malnourished slave boy.
"Stop throwing a fit." Shen Qingqiu barks, lifting the boy up till he's all but suspended by his wrist. Still thrashing despite everything.
Shen Jiu throws his whole weight into the his escape, headless of sharp pain radiating up his arm, or the popping sound accompanying it. "Fucking cunt— Let me go!"
"Shen-Shixiong it's really—"
Shen Qingqiu ignores Mu Qingfang's protests. He looks down at the boy dangling from his grip with barely concealed disdain, leaning down, dropping his voice low: So only Shen Jiu can hear his next words. "I know you want to learn how to cultivate. Do as you're told, or so help me I'll burn out what remains of your spiritual pathways myself." He gives Shen Jiu's arm a sharp jerk when the boy thrashes harder, lifting him completely off the ground for just a moment. "You are going to let Mu-Shidi examine you, even if I have to hold your wrist out for you."
"Now then, I don't think that will be necessary Shen-Shidi…."
Shen Qingqiu's spine goes ramrod-straight upon hearing that voice. He lets go of Shen Jiu's wrist like it burns him, leaving the scrawny teenager to tumble to the floor. Shen Jiu curls in on himself; cradling his left arm tightly to his chest, watching a flurry of anger and hatred flicker over Shen Qingqiu's face in an instant, before he turns toward the interloper and it settles into a scowl.
"Zhangman-Shixiong. To what do we owe this… visit." Shen Qingqiu forces the words out through gritted teeth.
Shen Jiu peers out through the safety of his hair, towards the new man. He's dressed in dark grays and silvers and an aura of quiet power surrounds him: Completely enveloping the room in an instant. Shen Jiu can almost see where it sparks off Shen Qingqiu's dangerously sharp aura.
The man gives Shen Qingqiu an almost placating smile. "I'd heard that Shen-Shidi was recovering from his qi deviation, and I wanted to stop by and check on him."
"I am perfectly fine, your meddling concern is unneeded and unwelcome." Shen Qingqiu spits.
"My apologies Qingqiu-Shidi, it seems I was misinformed…" The man's powerful aura dims a little under Shen Qingqiu's biting words. Still he sweeps forward into the room, bending down to peer at Shen Jiu. "What seems to be the issue with this young disciple—" The man's words fail mid-sentence when he looks down at Shen Jiu, paling like he was looking at a ghost. Shen Jiu stares the man down through the shadows of his hair, projecting his violent distrust outward like a shield.
The man opens his mouth to say something, but Shen Qingqiu cuts him off. "It's nothing so important as to concern Zhangmen-Shixiong. Only an unruly child trying to delay his examination."
The Sect Leader gazes down at Shen Jiu, his congenial mask cracking around the edges. Enough for Shen Jiu to see the echos of emotions flickering through him, but not enough to tell for sure what any of them mean.
Eventually the man presses his lips into a tight line, nodding. "Surely all these people here watching isn't helping the matter." He gestures to Shen Qingqiu. "How about we step outside, and let Mu-Shidi do work without distraction."
"No, I need to keep an—" Shen Qingqiu's tries to protest only to be interrupted by Mu Qingfang, "I have a handle on this Shen Shixiong, please don't trouble yourself so." He shoos them out, while sending the Sect Leader grateful looks.
Mu Qingfang follows closely behind them, making sure to shut the door firmly behind them. Letting out a long suffering sigh; taking a moment to gather himself before turning back to the boy behind him. Shen Jiu watches him silently from his corner, not daring to move a muscle despite the fierce aching in his arm and shoulder. He can tell that a shackle of bruises is already blooming around his wrist from where Shen Qingqiu's hand had grabbed him.
He walks over to the boy, lowering himself to sit lotus-pose on the floor across from Shen Jiu. "You'll have to forgive Shen Shixiong, his temper is rather acidic even on the best of days." He says mildly.
The boy keeps his silence still, staring out at Mu Qingfang though the messy curtain of his hair with deep, dark eyes. Mu Qingfang peruses his lips in consideration, eventually opting to follow the boy's lead. Letting them descend into fragile silence.
Mu Qingfang waits, and waits, and waits. Not once does this younger version of his acidic Shixiong let his eyes wander away from Mu Qingfang. Every shift, every breath is caught by those dark eyes; the idle sounds of Qian Cao filter though the windows and door, causing the boy to tense, a barely perceptible flinch Mu Qingfang notes, cataloguing it away in his mind.
Eventually the boy's curiosity overrides his distrust and fear. "Will I really be able to cultivate if I let you do that, glowy thing to me?"
Mu Qingfang tilts his head considering, "The 'glowy thing' doesn't in itself enable you to cultivate. Whether or not you have the ability to cultivate is dependant on if you were born with the innate talent for it." Mu Qingfang can see the boy withdraw into himself as he speaks, but the truth is better then broken promises, so he presses on. "But, allowing me to asses your spiritual pathways will tell us whether or not you have that talent. Which if you do, of course means you can cultivate."
"Will you teach me how to cultivate?"
"I will, If you have the talent for it, you can probably learn some basics while we sort things out. " Mu Qingfang trips over his words, "I personally, would probably, not, be the one to teach you."
"Who than?" Shen Jiu prods.
"I don't foresee Shen-Shixiong agreeing to send you send to another peak, so you'd probably end up on Qing Jing with him." Shen Jiu makes a face at that answer, and Mu Qingfang shoots him a look of sympathy.
Shen Jiu contemplates his limited choices for a moment, before uncurling just enough to extend his arm out towards the doctor. Mu Qingfang gives him a gratified smile, gently taking the boy's smaller hand in his. He presses two fingers to the pulse point in Shen Jiu's bony wrist— grimacing at just how thin the boy is— and sinks a probing thread of Qi into the boy's skin.
Shen Jiu exhales sharply. It feels… odd. Like someone is running thread through his veins, stringing him tightly like a doll. Shen Jiu has to force himself not to try to pull away from the foreign sensation. Mu Qingfang is silent for a long moment, his brow furrowed in concentration and growing intrigue. Eventually the feeling recedes and Mu Qingfang lets go of his wrist.
"Curious…" Mu Qingfang murmurs.
He waits for an explanation, but Mu Qingfang seems distracted. Shen Jiu frowns, "Well? Can I cultivate?"
The doctor startles out of his contemplation at the forcefulness of his question. "what— Oh! Yes. Yes, you have an excellent foundation for someone of your age. Remarkable really." Mu Qingfang stands up quickly, "I have to go talk to Zhangman-Shixiong and Shen-Shixiong quickly. You should try to get some more rest if possible." Shen Jiu watches silently as the doctor hurries out of the room. Shen Jiu catches sight of Shen Qingqiu talking quickly to the Sect Leader, his face twisted in disdain and anger before the door clicks shut.
Shen Jiu does not peel himself from his corner yet. First he takes inventory of the state of his body: No burns, No broken bones—some bruises— he's always bruised too easily. He felt something pop earlier when Shen Qingqiu grabbed him. A quick flex of his arm, The disgustingly familiar misaligned feeling in his shoulder confirms that he was not imagining it. Shen Jiu glares at the misbehaving limb, before attempting the tedious process of forcing it back into place. Gritting his teeth though the pain, he lifts his arm up, reaching back behind his head. Rolling the socket back and up, until a loud crack reverberates though his shoulder. The uncomfortable tension dissipates as soon as the joint slips back into place, leaving only a dull ache in its wake.
Once he's confidant that his body is in enough of a working order to deal with any issues that may arise, he finally removes himself from the corner. It's the first moment alone he's had since he woke up to actually investigate his surroundings. He keeps his footsteps light and soundless as he walks the full length of the room, with the arm on his blind side out stretched just in case. The room is sparsely furnished, containing only a bed, a small bronze mirror, and a hip-height cabinet set, full of first aid supplies. The bronze mirror confirms that there is nothing visually wrong with his eye, at least. The last thing he needs is more obvious vulnerabilities. Shen Jiu squints at the mirror, frowning at the dried blood smudged across his left cheek and inner corner of his eye. he quickly scrubs it away with his palm.
Raised voices echo though the closed door, causing Shen Jiu’s whole body to tense up. He stays frozen for a long moment, waiting to see if the voices are moving towards him. Only once he's sure they aren't, does he pad towards the door. Pressing his ear against it to listen.
"—from my examination your cultivation is completely unimpacted regardless of the fact that he has a functioning golden core."
"What the fuck do you mean, ‘he has a core’?"
"Exactly as I said Shen-Shixiong, It's infantile for sure, smaller then what one might expect for a child of his age, but for what he is —the fact that by your own account he should have no history with cultivation yet— It’s, remarkable."
"If he's here to stay, then I would suggest he be enrolled in a peak other than Qing Jing."
"Why!? So you can swoop him to Qiong Ding and finally succeed in erasing your failure?"
"What— No, of course not—"
"If I may introject. Enrolling him here, in Qian Cao would be the most advantageous. It would alow me to keep a close eye on him, and monitor his health while he learns."
"Absolutely not.
"Qingqiu-Shidi please—"
"No. He's coming back to Qing Jing. Tonight. Do you really thing I'm gullible enough to let him stay with someone else?"
"Shen-Shixiong— You know we wouldn't—"
"I don't care. He's coming back with me, end of conversation."
"Very well, but I have to insist on monthly check-ups, to make sure his health is not degrading."
"You don't trust me to take care of a child now, Mu-Shidi?"
"I didn't say that, his situation is special and you know it. You may be… practiced at training disciples but you are not a medical cultivator, complex cases such as his are not in your purview. I must insist."
"Fine. Once a month only."
"Thank you, Shen-Shixiong."
"Hmph."
The conversation ends abruptly. Rustling of fabric, and echoing of footsteps give Shen Jiu just enough warning to scramble back from the door. He places himself in front of the big curtained window he had previously ignored. Pulling open the curtain just enough to peek through it, trying to look as if he had not just gotten there.
The door swings open moments later, Shen Qingqiu's cold aura pouring into the room from where he stands. Shen Jiu looks back at him quickly, not bothering to hide his scowl at his unwelcome return.
"Come. We're leaving." He barks.
Shen Jiu's hackles rise at Shen Qingqiu's tone. So despite knowing the answer, he cannot keep the sharpness of out of his voice. "Going where?"
Shen Qingqiu glares daggers at Shen Jiu. "Back to Qing Jing, where we live."
"Where you live, you mean." Shen Jiu snipes. Crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Shen Jiu can see Shen Qingqiu's eye twitch; his eyes flick to the side towards the two men waiting outside. Shen Jiu knows that look all to well, the rage blanketed by respectability, trying to gauge just how much he can hurt Shen Jiu before he looses that oh-so-precious face of his. "Mu Qingfang says you can cultivate. Because of that, you are being enrolled as a disciple on Qing Jing." Shen Qingqiu grits out.
"Who says I even want to cultivate? What if I don't?"
Shen Jiu wants to cultivate more then he wants to keep breathing. But he knows nothing good will coming of going anywhere with this man. "I sure as fuck, am not going to go anywhere with you."
Shen Qingqiu's mask cracks. He crosses the room faster then Shen Jiu can blink. Bony fingers locking onto Shen Jiu's left wrist like a vice. "Watch your filthy mouth, brat." He growls, "This is not a matter of debate, you are coming back to Qing Jing tonight, even if i have to drag you there by the scruff of your neck like the feral animal we both know you are."
"LET GO OF ME!—" Shen Jiu tries to rip his wrist free, but Shen Qingqiu is an iron pillar compared to his weakness, his malnourished frame. In the end, all he manages is to worsen the bruises already blooming on his wrist as Shen Qingqiu pulls him out of the room. The Sect Leader and the Doctor both watch with barely concealed guilt as Shen Jiu is dragged, kicking and yelling, out of the medical compound. Still, neither of them move to intervene.
The small kernel of hope Shen Jiu had not realized was there until now, dies in his chest right then. Still it is not his nature to lie down like a good dog for his beatings: He fights Shen Qingqiu the whole way to Qing Jing. Alternating between thrashing, kicking and punching, and going limp as a doll, forcing the proud man to haplessly manage the sharp gangly limbs of an underweight fifteen year old.
Despite his best attempts to fling himself — and maybe even Shen Qingqiu if he can — into free fall during the short sword flight from Qian Cao, they arrive on Qing Jing in one piece, and relatively unharmed. Minus a few new bruises on his part. Shen Qingqiu dismounts the sword with an infuriating amount of grace, while holding tight to a struggling fifteen year old, heedless of the way Shen Jiu stumbles when his feet hit the ground, the impact jolting through his legs painfully.
The sun is starting to set as Shen Qingqiu drags him up the steep hill, towards a moderately sized, richly made house. Out of the corner of his eye Shen Jiu catches sight of a small group of kids who look to be about his age, watching them carefully from a distance. Eyes flicking between him and Shen Qingqiu quickly, while whispering between each other. The smallest of the bunch; a young girl with big naive eyes, and downy looking brown hair braided into the loose shuāng yājì 1 style common among young noble girls. They lock eyes for a quick moment, before the girl looks away, turning to whisper something to the other children before dashing into the bamboo forest out of sight. It doesn't take long for the other children to disappear from Shen Jiu's sight line, curious enough to watch from a distance but not stupid enough to follow.
Humiliation burns deep in Shen Jiu's chest as he is dragged into the Peak Lord's house. Shen Jiu knows what he looks like compared to those children. The reality of his fate here starts to take shape in his mind. What other reason would a ill-tempered man like Shen Qingqiu insist on taking in a worthless, unwanted slave he obviously couldn't stand, if not to break him and use him? It seems some things in Shen Jiu's life were never fated to change.
Shen Jiu steels himself for the inevitable, cutting off the part of himself that holds himself, shoving it deep inside where wandering hands can not find it. No matter how much they dig or claw. The inside of the house is nicer than the Qiu manor was in some ways. Less ostentatious, but still dripping in subtle signs that told Shen Jiu more then enough about the man he had been given to. Shen Qingqiu walks them towards a locked door. Along the side of the receiving room, he pulls out a simple key from his sleeve, unlocking the door and shoving it open in sharp movements.
The bruising grip on his wrist vanishes suddenly. Shen Jiu rubs the sore skin automatically, turning to snipe something rude at Shen Qingqiu. He doesn't get the chance to speak though, before Shen Jiu can process what is happening, a sharp hand connects with his left shoulder sending him tumbling through the open door.
"This is where you'll stay." Shen Qingqiu says behind him. "Do not try to leave this room. All of the windows are warded. I'll decide what to do with you in the morning."
With that, the door slams shut, lock sliding into place with a click that feels deafening in its finality. Shen Jiu sits up, still rubbing his sore wrist as he surveys his new cell. His nose itches, the air is stale, and his arrival having stirred up the thick layer of dust that had long made its home here. It's obviously some kind of sparsely used storage room, the place you shove things you don't want to deal with in, so you don't have to look at them. The room is full of old storage containers and loose items. The room is big, but its so full it might as well be a regular closet instead of a "room".
Shen Jiu surveys the area with a scowl, of course there's no bed. He makes to stand up when a harsh inhuman screech sounds off Inside his head. Shen Jiu doubles over in pain as the shuddered screeching grows louder. Eventually a voice sounds.
[USER HAS ENTERED: PRIVATE REST LOCATION]
[INITIALIZING]
[LOADING PROGRAM: 42-0-69-SOUL-INCONVENIENCE-COMPENSATION-5029863]
[HELLO USER: SHEN JIU]
[WELCOME TO YOUR: SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE]
[THIS USER HAS BEEN GRANTED THE 'USER SECOND CHANCE COMPENSATION PACKAGE' DUE TO UNFORESEEN ERRORS IN THE S.C.U.M (SOUL CENTRAL UNIVERSAL MANAGEMENT) SYSTEM PROCESSES. AS SUCH, THIS SYSTEM HAS BEEN AUTHORIZED HERE TO GUIDE YOU AND HELP YOU MAKE THE MOST OF YOU SECOND CHANCE.]
Shen Jiu groans as the voice echoes too loud in his left ear.
[USER IS EXHIBITING PAIN FROM SYSTEM CONTACT.]
[PLEASE HOLD WHILE WE RECALIBRATE]
The harsh unnatural bursts of sound start up again, still too loud but slowly getting quieter until finally Shen Jiu's head stops threatening to explode from the pitch. He manages to pull himself back up to sitting, wiping away the tears that had escaped him.
When Shen Jiu finally peels his eyes open once more, the nothing that is the sight in his left eye suddenly has an unnatural green tinge around the edges. The green tinge forces his mind to acknowledge the missing input from his left side. It makes the entire world feel off balance, tilted to the right. Shen Jiu groans as his mind tries to mesh the mismatched visual inputs into one coherent image.
When he is finally able to regain his footing, his mind has resolved to give the entire world a soft green tinge along with the distinct lack of sight on his left side. Directly in front of him is a flat plate of softly illuminated green light. As if the most expensive flawless glass had been lit from the inside with ethereal green qi. Characters scroll across the screen rapidly.
[‘Xianxia Voice’ package installed.]
[System ‘Native User’ package installed.]
[‘Tutorial’ package installed.]
He looks down at his hands, startled to find that his left hand his smeared with blood. He makes a frustrated sound before scrubbing at his face with the sleeve of his robes — heedless of the pink stains he's smearing over the grey green robes — trying to banish the green from his sight. It doesn't work. Just as Shen Jiu thinks he's gone well and truly insane, a voice rings out, confirming his suspicions.
[Welcome User: Shen Jiu]
[This system is calibrated specifically to your taste, so you can have the best rebirth experience possible!]
Shen Jiu blinks. 'Rebirth?'
[Yes! User Shen Jiu was given a second chance at life ! A do over ! after the User’s unfortunate death !]
'Death?!!? When did I fucking die?!?'
[Information surrounding your death has been redacted from your memory until you fulfill the tasks required to unlock access to those memories !]
'‘Unlock access???’ They're my fucking memories ??'
[Premature access to memories of your death could cause irreparable damages to your psyche as well as the plot. You must unlock access at the appropriate time.]
Shen Jiu growls in anger, trying grab the glowing metal plate out of the air. His hands slip right through it, and he falls forward, elbows connecting hard with the wooden floor. When he opens his eyes again the green tinge is gone from his sight, and so is the strange glass plate. Shen Jiu squeezes his eyes shut, pressing fingers over his eyelids. Trying to quell the pounding ache in his head. There's no sign of the the light, or the strange voice. Shen Jiu groans into his hands; he's fucking losing it.
He pushes himself to his feet with a wince. Dusting himself off in the process. Unlike his 'room' in Qiu manor this one at least has a window, a large one too. Shen Jiu shifts the heavy blackout curtains to the side, nose itching from the layer of dust the action kicks up, and peers out to the darkening forest outside. Unremarkable and isolated. Great. He shuffles through the room slowly, using the fading light from the window, careful of his compromised sight. The storage containers are organized in neat rows and after a more then a little poking around, he locates one containing a couple thick blankets. More then he's used to on quiet nights. He goes about making a makeshift sleeping pad in the very far corner of the room, tucked between boxes far out of sight and acceptably out of reach by anyone larger then him.
Shen Jiu crawls into his make shift bed. Exhaustion blankets his mind, drowning out his fear of the days to come. As sleep drags him down, memories of a familiar boy with gaped teeth and broken promises flit through his mind. Maybe there are answers to be found here after all, if Shen Jiu can get his hands on them.