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how did Shen Qingqiu even get that tall.
wasn't he a street kid, scavenging for any food he could get for several years? was he fed somewhat adequately in his time in qiu manor and that made up for it somehow? how was my man like 6 foot something???
me imagining teeny tiny Shen Jiu, barely taller than a tea plant as a baby, and then he just shoots up in his teens.
"That won't help you," A voice said from behind him, thin and lilting.
Shen Yuan nearly screamed in frustration and threw down the talismans he had been trying to activate with the drops of qi he had left. He had known that it wouldn't work, especially when the characters on them were barely even legible anymore, but he couldn't help but try. His blood had smeared them when he had collapsed onto the ground earlier, exhausted of everything he had and then some.
He had managed to crawl to a copse of trees and sat up against a tree trunk to figure something out, but it was futile.
"You're scared."
Shen Yuan shook his head desperately as if to rid his head of the voice that seemed to pierce his ears, tears spilling down his cheeks, before nodding just as furiously. "Of course I'm scared! I'm terrified. Don't you know how your story ends?"
"I do know. This one has lived it, again and again," The ghost of Shen Jiu said, tilting his head, face eerily blank. He didn't blink. He never did. "This one was due to relive it, for as long as it takes. That is, until you took my place. But it doesn't matter anymore."
"It doesn't matter anymore? You would say that," Shen Yuan said. He was beginning to feel a numbness overtake him, and thumped his head against the tree trunk behind him to try to snap back to himself. He couldn't float away now. Shen Jiu wouldn't be able to take over for him. It was too close to the finale. "You're already dead! And I'm still here. So what do you fucking know? "
"Not much, I admit." Shen Jiu floated closer, reaching out to him. "But I know that you can no longer run. And I was right, wasn't I?"
"What are you even talking about?" Shen Yuan picked up the sounds of movement in the far distance. It sounded like the footsteps of a person. Of multiple people. They were looking for him. And he had left an entire trail of blood, leading right to him.
"I told you, in the beginning, to make sure you knew what you were doing. And I told you that even if you hide"—an icy hand sunk into his chest—"it doesn't go away."
"Why did you kill my brother?" Despite how most of her face was covered by a viel, Liu Mingyan's grey eyes alone held immeasurable hatred. She had been waiting, her grip on her sword white-knuckled, as if she was itching to cut him down where he stood.
Shen Jiu nearly flinched. The Old Palace Master had dragged introductions and the "testing" questions out long enough in order to make sure the serum was "working" and fighting his loose lips had take more of his willpower than he thought. Resisting drained the spare qi he had left circulating in his body. The Old Place Master had simply chuckled, enjoying the spectacle, and told him that it would be easier to answer.
He had wanted to laugh. Easier? No, it would be easier for them, but not for him. Not for anyone who had anything worth keeping buried. Any slip in his concentration and he would say something that he didn't want to. He was being run ragged, and they hadn't even gotten to the main plaintiffs that had demanded this whole trial in the first place, Liu Mingyan and Qiu Haitang.
(Seeing Tang'er made his heart pound in remembered affection. He didn't regret saving her.)
Why did you kill my brother? Lost in his thoughts, and with the serum clawing at his throat, Shen Jiu's mouth had opened without his notice.
"I didn't kill him." Silence fell.
Fuck.
"You-- what?" Liu Mingyan faltered, before her eyes hardened once more. "No, you killed him. Or you fatally injured him and then left him to die like the dishonorable wretch--"
"I didn't kill him." Shen Jiu desperately tried to shut his mouth but he was so tired. "He qi-deviated and attacked me, and I tried to save him. I poured myself into him, I nearly died giving everything that I had in my spiritual veins to save that brute from his own folly, but I failed. Just like--" He nearly bit through his tongue in his attempt to stop talking.
"Just like what?" Liu Mingyan demanded, stepping closer.
Shen Jiu clenched his teeth and his fists against the pull of the serum, sweating with the effort of restraining himself, but the words were ripped out, raw and vicious.
"Just like I always do," he spat, the bitterness thick in his throat. "I failed. I always fail."
"You expect me to beielve that? After everything, after how much you fought with him over the years, you want me to believe that you tried to save him?" The fire in Liu Mingyan's eyes hadn't died but there was something else now-- hesitation, confusion.
"I don't give a damn what you believe," he snarled, voice like a whipcrack through the silence. Liu Mingyan stepped back at his words. "If I had wanted him dead, I wouldn't have wasted my own energy trying to save his stupid, arrogant, bullheaded self from his own mistakes!"
His breath was uneven and he was shaking subtly. His tongue throbbed and his mouth was flooded with the taste of blood, his blood. If not for the immortal binding cables, Shen Jiu was sure that he would be on edge of a qi deviation.
"You're lying," Liu Mingyan finally said. There was a waver in her voice. "You're lying, you must be."
He had said too much. And yet, it wasn't enough. It never was.
"The truth serum doesn’t allow for that," Mu Qingfang murmured from the side, his voice dangerously quiet. So much for his "cause no harm" oaths. "Especially not with him being so drained of qi."
Shen Jiu let out a harsh, humorless laugh. "Exactly."
What was the point in telling the truth if no one ever believed him?
Shen Qingqiu glared at the Old Palace Master. He just knew that the bastard was smirking behind his raised sleeves, sure of his destruction. Well, given the truth serum that they had just forced down his throat for this sham of a trial, the Old Palace Master might be right, but Shen Qingqiu-- Shen Jiu had never gone down without a fight.
Still, it would be hard to resist the serum. They had forced him to take Hearts' Sorrow, which was notorious for not only forcing a person to answer truthfully, but also had a tendency to loosen the person's inhibitions so as to make it harder to control their emotions and the ability to keep their mouth shut.
Shen Jiu liked to pretend that he didn't have any emotions to exploit, his heart as cold as his face, however, he was already exhausted and stressed from the entire ordeal. His mind raced through the fog of the serum and the weakness induced by the immortal binding cables, yet the only real tactic he had at the moment was to quite literally bite his tongue so he couldn't speak.
He knew he had the bad habit of not explaining himself, of just letting people think what they wanted to think, which often lead to people just assuming the worst of him. He knew he wasn't a good person, either, so often, it was justified. After all, he had kicked that little beast down into the Abyss (though, he had considered it a favor rather than killing the beast, and look where that had gotten him).
But he still had things he wanted to protect. Even if Yue Qingyuan (Qi-ge) liked to pretend to not have started in the dirt like the slaves they used to be, he still refused to reveal anything that might harm the other.
He bit down harder and tasted iron.
Even if Qi-ge had abandoned him, Xiao Jiu would keep his promise.
Shen Qingqiu glared at the Old Palace Master. He just knew that the bastard was smirking behind his raised sleeves, sure of his destruction. Well, given the truth serum that they had just forced down his throat for this sham of a trial, the Old Palace Master might be right, but Shen Qingqiu-- Shen Jiu had never gone down without a fight.
Still, it would be hard to resist the serum. They had forced him to take Hearts' Sorrow, which was notorious for not only forcing a person to answer truthfully, but also had a tendency to loosen the person's inhibitions so as to make it harder to control their emotions and the ability to keep their mouth shut.
Shen Jiu liked to pretend that he didn't have any emotions to exploit, his heart as cold as his face, however, he was already exhausted and stressed from the entire ordeal. His mind raced through the fog of the serum and the weakness induced by the immortal binding cables, yet the only real tactic he had at the moment was to quite literally bite his tongue so he couldn't speak.
He knew he had the bad habit of not explaining himself, of just letting people think what they wanted to think, which often lead to people just assuming the worst of him. He knew he wasn't a good person, either, so often, it was justified. After all, he had kicked that little beast down into the Abyss (though, he had considered it a favor rather than killing the beast, and look where that had gotten him).
But he still had things he wanted to protect. Even if Yue Qingyuan (Qi-ge) liked to pretend to not have started in the dirt like the slaves they used to be, he still refused to reveal anything that might harm the other.
He bit down harder and tasted iron.
Even if Qi-ge had abandoned him, Xiao Jiu would keep his promise.
"Hello, Binghe," Shen Qingqiu said.
It had taken him a while to begin to speak after settling in front of the sword mound a shichen ago. "It wasn't you but, I guess... I just. I saw your face today. In your shishu, Shang Qinghua." Shen Qingqiu glanced down at his hands.
Shang Qinghua had laughed at something that Shen Qingqiu had said and all of a sudden, all he could see was Binghe, Binghe, Binghe in the wrinkle of Shang Qinghua's nose, in the bouncy curls of his hair, in the shine of his eyes.
"He's not you, of course, nor are you him. I know that. I told myself that." There was a soft rustling of leaves and a whisper of Shizun? into the wind, but when Shen Qingqiu looked up, searching for his lost disciple, there was nothing there but a breeze.
Another grief-induced hallucination, is what Mu Qingfang would call them, though Shen Qingqiu hesitated to say the same. That would meant things about his attachment to this world that he disliked to think about.
He sighed, and got to his feet. His other precious disciples had been hounding him about trying to do something other than stand in front of the sword mound, and he hated to see the looks on their faces when they caught him here again.
Before he left, he brushed a hand over the top of the mound and said, "Still. I can't help it when I see your Shang-shishu. You look so much like the one who created you." He turned and swept away.
Having hidden around the corner upon realizing Shen Qingqiu was lost in thought at A-Luo's grave again, Ning Yingying stared after her Shizun, not knowing what to think.
"Why are you putting this on me?" Shang Qinghua whined, face twisting attractively. Wow, Shen Qingqiu did not realize he looked that pretty from the outside. "I'm not responsible for every single thing that happens, okay!"
Shen Qingqiu glared at him before turning around and flouncing back into Shang Qinghua's bedchambers to try and figure out how to put his hair up. His friend's hair was pretty similar to Binghe's, but he had never had to do it for himself before. Shang Qinghua followed him, idly playing with his favorite fan.
A blue screen flickered in front of him as soon as they both stepped inside.
[Scenario started: Shizun Swap! Hosts have switched bodies and they must find a way to switch back or risk being stuck like this forever!]
"What."
[Good luck, Host!]
No amount of threats brought the shitty thing back. Shen Qingqiu didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Why did the Systems love to torment them like this?
"Cucumber-bro!" Shang Qinghua whispered fiercely, pounding on the door. "Bro, open up!"
He smiled nervously at an An Ding disciple peering at him from behind a stack of scrolls. Upon seeing the disciple's eyes widen, he quickly blanked his face, though he continued to sweat nervously.
Right, he wasn't allowed to do anything but stare menacingly or smirk right now, while in this body.
Finally, the door opened a crack and a hand reached out to grab him by the robes, pulling him inside. Shang Qinghua quickly smoothed out his now-crumpled green robes and looked up, coming face to face with... himself.
"Shang Qinghua. What the fuck did you do?" Shen Qingqiu asked, hazel eyes flashing.
"Cucumber-bro!" Shang Qinghua whispered fiercely, pounding on the door. "Bro, open up!"
He smiled nervously at an An Ding disciple peering at him from behind a stack of scrolls. Upon seeing the disciple's eyes widen, he quickly blanked his face, though he continued to sweat nervously.
Right, he wasn't allowed to do anything but stare menacingly or smirk right now, while in this body.
Finally, the door opened a crack and a hand reached out to grab him by the robes, pulling him inside. Shang Qinghua quickly smoothed out his now-crumpled green robes and looked up, coming face to face with... himself.
"Shang Qinghua. What the fuck did you do?" Shen Qingqiu asked, hazel eyes flashing.