Chapter Text
Mu Qingfang, peak lord of Qian Cao peak, kept a location talisman on his son, Mu Yuan, at all times. Not, he would like to stress, because Yuan-er got into any trouble. On the contrary, he was a very good boy! At the age of seven or eight (probably more like eight, but the boy was small) Yuan-er was already well read, consuming every book he could get his hands on.
Mu Yuan systematically read through all the medical texts that Mu Qingfang left laying around the house. He read bestiaries borrowed from his friends on Ling You peak, and books about foreign spirit swords that Wei Qingwei brought him. The boy read poetry. His calligraphy was lovely, especially for a boy on the medical peak.
Mu Yuan was sweet, and friendly, and helpful. Truly, a golden child.
And that was exactly why Mu Qingfang kept a location talisman on him. Because one look at the child and any observer would instantly clock that the boy was an obvious relation of his shixiong, Shen Qingqiu.
Mu Qingfang was a realist. He believed in meeting people where they are, a necessary facet of practicing medicine. Over the years since the Qing generation’s ascension to peak lords, Mu Qingfang had noticed certain things about the other eleven peaks.
Things like how all of Shang Shixiong’s disciples were absolutely loyal to the man. Things like how Wei Shixiong was one of the most gentle souls Mu Qingfang had the pleasure of meeting. And most importantly, Mu Qingfang was aware of the toxic relationship between the sect leader Yue Qingyuan and the second ranked peak lord.
He would have to be, the number of times that Shen Qingqiu went into a qi deviation after a peak lord meeting alone! It wasn’t something that he or Shen Shixiong spoke about. But Mu Qingfang had very quietly provided Shen Qingqiu with a small stack of emergency talismans which would call Mu Qingfang to his location in the event of a deviation.
His relationship with Shen Shixiong could be called adequate. Personally, Mu Qingfang had no issues with the man and he tried to put the various rumors about him out of his mind entirely.
However.
Mu Qingfang would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to know that Shen Shixiong disliked men in general and boys in particular.
Several years ago, while holding a clinic in some rural area halfway between Cang Qiong’s borders and Tian Ye overlook’s borders, Mu Qingfang treated a very young boy who happened to be a dead ringer for a young Shen Qingqiu.
Yuan-er had no memory of any parents or siblings. Back then, he was a tiny little thing, with big eyes and pale skin. Nearly all of his ribs were visible through his threadbare excuse for clothes. Little Yuan-er was so sweet, and so grateful for Mu Qingfang’s help. The young peak lord could not bear to leave the little boy behind to die from starvation or exposure. He just. Couldn’t.
So Mu Yuan returned with him to the sect. Mu Qingfang’s best estimate was that the child was perhaps four or five? He was so malnourished it was difficult to tell, especially because his bones were quite brittle.
He adopted the child officially, just two months after taking him in as a ward, and very few people were aware of it. Since it was a private matter, Mu Qingfang declined to notify Zhangmen Shixiong. But most of his senior staff and disciples knew. There was no need to keep it a secret, Mu Qingfang decided. Much better to be common knowledge, that nobody would even bother to speak of.
Slowly, Mu Qingfang taught Mu Yuan tidbits about healing. Over dinner, Mu Qingfang talked about his more simple cases, and explained his thought processes for his diagnoses. He talked about herbology and the study of plants and fauna to treat all manner of conditions and diseases.
Mu Yuan, he found, had a mind like a steel trap, and what’s more the boy was voracious for knowledge. Strangely, the child was able to read and make simple characters which Yuan-er had never been able to explain.
“I just know,” he’d say to Mu Qingfang with a cheerful smile and half shrug. The little boy liked to tug on his ponytail. “It’s like…my hair is black. I can just read!”
Heavens above, but Mu Qingfang loved that boy!
He had never planned to have children, never been interested in women, really. But as the years passed, the Qian Cao peak lord learned just how big his own heart was. He could not have asked for a better son. Above all, he had no intention of ever informing Shen Qingqiu that he had likely adopted one of his relatives.
Years passed like this, with Mu Yuan becoming a well known and well liked part of Qian Cao peak. Mu Yuan particularly enjoyed spending time with the elders in the memory care section. This section of Qian Cao peak was reserved for members of the peak who had no cultivation and thus grew old and feeble.
Many of this group of long term patients had memory issues, others just needed some assistance with getting washed up and dressed, but were perfectly able to do things like read, or garden, or take walks about the peak.
Mu Yuan offered to help one of these older residents, Su Qiong, who was a retired gardener. Su Qiong’s knuckles were red and misshapen, and quite painful most days. He still enjoyed gardening and planting, though, so he requested assistance with those activities.
Since it didn’t require an actual disciple, Mu Qingfang asked Yuan-er if he would like to help Su Qiong. Naturally, Yuan-er agreed. So he began spending three mornings a week assisting Su Qiong.
Over the next six months or so, Mu Yuan learned how to start seedlings and care for them. He learned how to graft one plant onto the rootstock of another. He learned the proper way to harvest leaves and dry them out for use in teas and such.
Surprisingly, Su Qiong thrived with his part-time assistant. The old man began participating in group activities again, and began sleeping better.
Mu Qingfang listened to his son chat happily about how much better Su Laoshi was doing, and tried to be optimistic. But the weather turned cold, and then winter set in. And one grey morning he was called to Su Qiong’s rooms because Yuan-er wasn’t able to wake the old man.
Mu Qingfang sat on the edge of the bed and closed Su Qiong’s eyes one last time. Back pressed against the wall, Mu Yuan’s eyes leaked tears steadily.
“Baba…Baba, why won’t he wake? He’s just sleeping!” Mu Yuan cried, rubbing furiously at his eyes. “Laoshi, wake up! It’s time to get up! You can’t…”
Rising to his feet, Mu Qingfang shakes out the sheet and brings it up over Su Qiong’s body. “Yuan-er, I’m sorry. Su Laoshi has passed.”
“But he was fine yesterday!” Mu Yuan says, in a voice that’s thick and shaking.
Quickly crossing round the bed, Mu Qingfang picks up his son, holds him tight, with one hand at the back of his head. “I know, son.” He sits down at the chair in the corner where Su Qiong kept a small writing desk. Mu Yuan tucks his face into Mu Qingfang’s shirt and weeps until he has no tears left.
Finally, when Yuan-er is calmer, Mu Qingfang carries his son back to their house so he can get some tea and food into the boy. Mu Yuan is quieter than usual for the walk back, so unlike his cheerful chattering.
At their house, Mu Qingfang sends out a message talisman to his senior healers and head disciple, letting them know about Su Laoshi’s death and that he will be unavailable except for emergencies for the rest of the day.
After that’s done, he prepares calming tea, and some snacks for Yuan-er. Mu Yuan has been lurking at the edges of the kitchen, keeping Mu Qingfang in sight the whole time, like he’s afraid his father might up and disappear between blinks.
Once the tea is ready Mu Qingfang has Yuan-er sit down at the low table in the front room. “Do you have any questions?” Mu Qingfang asks, eyeing his son carefully.
Mu Yuan’s green eyes look haunted. “I was a little bit late getting to Su Laoshi, Baba.” He blinks rapidly, a glassy sheen forming in his eyes. “It’s my fault Su Laoshi died!”
This is what he was afraid of, Mu Qingfang thinks. Carefully, gently, he explains, “Yuan-er, Su Qiong lived a long and very good life. He wasn’t a cultivator, and for a mortal, almost seventy years is a long time.”
Tears fall to the table, and Mu Yuan conscientiously wipes them off with a napkin. “Almost everyone thought he was mean but he wasn’t.”
“Oh?” Mu Qingfang says, encouraging.
Mu Yuan nods. “He wasn’t mean, it’s just that things had to be the way he liked or it made him worry about things too much.”
Ah, this boy. “Sometimes people can be like that,” Mu Qingfang agrees, wrapping his hands around his tea cup and meeting his son’s eyes.
“He could make anything grow, anything.” Mu Yuan continues. “He used to rescue plants from the garden that weren’t doing well. He’d put them into small containers and help them until they got better.”
“He did?” Mu Qingfang asks. “What else did he do?” He pours some tea for Mu Yuan and nudges the cup towards the boy, who makes a face, but grudgingly takes a drink.
Mu Yuan tells him how Su Qiong liked wine with dinner, that the old man liked to sweet talk the ladies that still worked in the gardens. He tells Mu Qingfang that Su Qiong had a son, but the child died a long time ago.
Ah, Mu Qingfang realises. Perhaps that’s why the old man liked Yuan-er so much.
At the end of the day, Mu Yuan is still sad. But children are resilient and by the time he’s ready for bed, he seems more like himself. Mu Yuan is old enough now that he can get ready for bed independently, but Mu Qingfang spends a long time brushing out the boy’s hair and then braiding it for him.
After Mu Yuan is safely tucked into his bed, Mu Qingfang rises from where he’d been perching on the edge. “Baba,” Mu Yuan says, and Mu Qingfang pauses, glancing down at his son.
“Baba. Why does it hurt so much?” Mu Yuan’s mouth is turned down at the corners.
Crouching at the bedside, Mu Qingfang runs a hand over Mu Yuan’s head. “Because love hurts sometimes, Yuan-er.” He leans down and kisses the child’s forehead.
“Good night, Baba.”
***
The time for the next Peak Lord meeting arrives. Mu Qingfang would hate them a lot less if certain people (Liu Shixiong and Shen Shixiong) could start acting like adults and not children, but he supposes that’s too much to hope for. Most of the time, he notices that Liu Qingge is the instigator, but Shen Qingqiu occasionally feels like demonstrating how much smarter he is than other people.
Personally, Mu Qingfang thinks if the other man was as smart as he imagined himself to be, he wouldn't be so fast to make people hate him. He’d overheard Shang Shixiong muttering a long time ago about their disastrous well mission in which Shen Shixiong saved Liu Qingge’s life but refused to actually tell the man!
Why are most of his shixiongs so irritating!? Just talk to each other! Mu Qingfang fumes over their stubbornness sometimes. If he thought his intervention might help the situation he would have said something long ago. Alas, Mu Qingfang isn’t sure it would do any good.
Shang Qinghua reviews the budget, and passes out several requests for various items that require more skilled cultivators than he to obtain. Normally, Liu Shixiong jumps at the chance to escape the sect for a while. This time, the War God seems to be sulking.
Yue Shixiong mentions that he needs to attend a discussion conference with some of the more distant sects and Mu Qingfang is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t realize right away that he’s been addressed until Wei Qingwei gives him a friendly elbow in the side to get his attention.
He looks up to find Shen Qingqiu’s full attention upon him. “Yes?” Mu Qingfang asks mildly, meeting Shen Qingqiu’s very familiar looking green eyes.
Sourly, Shen Qingqiu says, “Apparently, the brutes of Bai Zhan peak have accidentally brought back an invasive species of plant which -surprise, surprise, has aphrodisiac effects. This Lord has no desire to treat or be treated so naturally, we were hoping our esteemed Mu Shidi had some thoughts on the subject.”
Mu Qingfang glances at Liu Qingge who is glaring at the table with his arms crossed over his chest. When the Bai Zahn peak lord refuses to look up, Mu Qingfang rubs his forehead and sighs. “First, I would suggest isolating some samples of the plant and placing them under a stasis talisman so as not to spread the effects.”
Shen Qingqiu frowns, but says less aggressively. “That was my thought as well,” then sends an accusing look across the table at Liu Qingge.
Ah. Mu Qingfang surmises that because it was Shen Qingqiu that said so, that Liu Qingge refused on general principles. “One hopes petty grudges are not allowed to fester,” He remarks, “As that would only result in less effective communication. Assuming, that is, that someone intended to attempt communication in the first place.”
Yue Qingyuan blinks in surprise at the salty comment, but Mu Qingfang is so sick of people refusing to even try to get along.
Laying his palms on the table, Mu Qingfang gazes sternly at Liu Qingge. “Liu Shixiong, can Qian Cao peak count on your cooperation with Qing Jing in this matter?” Shen Qingqiu looks smug at this comment, and Mu Qingfang adds, “Others are not blameless, I am sure.” He gives Shen Qingqiu a direct look. “Allowing people to believe the worst of you is not helpful, and in the future, I recommend clearing the air.” It’s more direct that Mu Qingfang usually is, but the situation calls for it.
Mu Qingfang rises from the table and looks toward Yue Qingyuan, who really just passively lets all this happen. “If this Shidi might be excused to go mop up the problem, since two entire other peak lords are unable to?” Deciding to ask for forgiveness later instead of permission now, Mu Qingfang nods at Yue Shixiong, and leaves without another word.
The following day, a Bai Zhan peak disciple sheepishly brings a qiankun bag of plant material to the Healing Pavilion for Mu Qingfang to investigate. He enlists the help of Wu Yanshin, his head disciple and one of his senior healers to help set up the containment array in his lab.
It requires several points of containment as Mu Qingfang has no desire to be inflicted with an aphrodisiac. He’s done his time in the trenches of the Aphrodisiac Response team, and never again would be too soon. Fortunately, Wu Yanshin is well versed at assisting with this sort of thing and the array goes up smoothly.
The main effects of it are centered over his lab table. After a close inspection of all the parts of the plant and cross referencing with some of the herbology texts, Mu Qingfang determines that the plant is a Greater Golden Daylilly. They spread through rhizomes and thus a large part of their proliferation happens underground.
Fuck. This is going to be a big pain to clear from Bai Zhan. While Mu Qingfang breaks for his midday meal, he receives a message from Shen Qingqiu asking to meet to discuss the results of his findings. Peak Lord Shen also shares the unwelcome news that specimens of the Greater Golden Daylilly have been found on Qing Jing peak.
He replies to Shen Shixiong’s message stating that he doesn’t have much time available today, but that Shen Qingqiu is welcome to come to his office on Qian Cao immediately if that suits. He waits for a response, but when none comes, Mu Qingfang figures that something else came up.
He cleans up his work area and retreats to his office to review his notes and shove food in his mouth. A few minutes into his break Mu Yuan appears in the doorway.
“Baba, do you have a few minutes?” Mu Yuan asks, looking hopeful.
“Sure,” Mu Qingfang says, “Come join me, Yuan-er. Have you eaten yet?”
Brightening, the boy shakes his head sheepishly. “Not since breakfast.” He plunks himself down in the chair across from his desk and leans over, eyeing Mu Qingfang’s pork buns.
Snorting, Mu Qingfang hands one over. His son gets so involved in his projects that he sometimes forgets to eat. Mu Yuan goes on to tell Mu Qingfang everything he’s been involved with that morning-Apparently Yuan-er has been helping out in the garden and trying his hand at rescuing some plants like Su Qiong used to.
Dryly he asks, “And where are all these plants going to be recovering, Yuan-er?”
Biting his lip, Mu Yuan says, “Um. Well, we have that patio behind our house that gets good sunlight. Su Qiong used to say that a south exposure was the best!”
Mu Qingfang says, amused, “I see. I suppose we shall have our own healing pavilion for some plants, then. Yuan-er, you will be the primary healer for them, so you must be diligent in your care.”
“Yes, Baba!”
A sound in the doorway makes Mu Qingfang look up, and he finds Shen Qingqiu frowning at him. “Ah, Shen Shixiong,” Mu Qingfang greets, and Mu Yuan squeaks, twisting around in surprise at the unexpected visitor. “Yuan-er, I have a meeting with your Shen Shibo, if you will excuse us.”
Mu Yuan gives Shen Qingqiu a wide eyed glance, and then a respectful bow. “Mu Yuan greets Shen Shibo.”
Shen Qingqiu’s frown only gets deeper, but he inclines his head at Mu Yuan, watching as the child scampers out of the office.
“Shixiong, please sit.” Mu Qingfang indicates the chair recently vacated by his son, and starts clearing away the remains of his lunch. “What can I-”
“That boy,” Shen Qingqiu interrupts him. “Who is he?”
Oh, Mu Qingfang thinks, chagrined. This. Well, he supposes there is nothing to be done for it, but to explain. “My son, Mu Yuan.”
But this simplistic answer doesn’t satisfy Shen Qingqiu. His sharp green eyes narrow, and he turns his full attention upon Mu Qingfang which…is somewhat unnerving. “Who are his parents?” Shen Qingqiu demands.
Mu Qingfang tightens his mouth for a moment. “I do not know,” he says finally, opting to be truthful. “I discovered him at one of our outreach clinics, far beyond Cang Qiong’s territory. He was starving to death on the streets.”
Shen Qingqiu is a handsome man, with a strong brow and high cheekbones. His chin is a bit pointy and it reminds Mu Qingfang uncomfortably of his son. “And you took him in? Just like that? For what reason?” He sounds just short of accusing, and Mu Qingfang takes a moment to breathe.
From Shen Shixiong’s perspective…yes, he imagines it’s strange to see a child on a different peak that looks very much like him.
“Shixiong, Yuan-er was a bright boy, full of questions.” Mu Qingfang meets Shen Qingqiu’s eyes. “I found it unacceptable to leave him on the streets where he would likely succumb to infection, starvation, or slavery in the next year. In short, he is a delightful boy, and I am lucky to have him as my son.”
“But he isn’t your son,” Shen Qingqiu snarls, hands clenched around one of his fans. “That boy.” He clenches his jaw, the jumping muscle clearly visible. “Do you have a way of ascertaining if we share blood?”
“For what purpose,” Mu Qingfang asks, arching a brow. He’s not happy about that crack about Mu Yuan not being his son. Yuan-er IS his son, in every way that matters. He clasps his hands on the desk in front of him and forces his face into neutrality.
Giving him a long look, Shen Qingqiu finally says sullenly, “Because this Lord would like to know if he has any family.”
That. Was not the answer Mu Qingfang was expecting. Gradually, his shoulders relax, and he looks more closely at his Shixiong. The man is obviously tense, strung tight as a bow, and appears ready to argue about it.
Mu Qingfang had not realized that Shen Shixiong did not have any family. Rumors from their disciple days suggested Shen Qingqiu was a younger son of some noble. The fact that he didn’t appear surprised in the least that Mu Yuan had been found on the streets…well, that suggested quite a bit about Shen Shixiong’s own upbringing didn’t it?
“I see,” Mu Qingfang says after a few moments. “I will ask Yuan-er if he is willing to give a few drops of blood. If he is amenable, you would also be required to donate some blood to run the scan.”
“And how accurate are these tests of yours, Mu Shidi?” Shen Qingqiu says.
“As far as I know, it is fairly accurate unless someone has deliberately obfuscated the results.” Mu Qingfang answers honestly. “Now. If Shixiong would like to discuss the infestation of Greater Golden Daylillies?”