Who wants an unfinished QiJiu soulmate fanfiction? Well, here you go.
Notes before you read- it is supposed to have an happy ending, whenever I write that. And also, tw for self harm and suicidal imagery.
Please, tell me what you think! Give me comments! Give me prompts!
Once, when he was very young, one of the older slave boys- San-Ge, or maybe Si-Ge, had gotten desperate enough during a job to grab a handful of berries off a rather prickly bush. His face had turned purple, and his lips had turned blue, and the red juice of the berries dripped all over his clothes as he fell over, dead within minutes. No one moved to help him, even as the youngest of their group, Shi-Mei, started to cry softly.
âWhy would he eat something poisonous?â Xiao-Jiu had asked, barely old or even big enough to be holding the cleaning supplies that he had been tasked with. Qi-Ge was standing next to him, only a little older but big enough to help him out without anyone in authority noticing.
âThey probably couldnât tell the difference, Xiao-Jiu.â He said, glancing between Xiao-Jiu and the body. Xiao-Jiu scoffed.
âThey were bright red! The good ones are purple! Itâs easy for tell!â
Qi-Ge frowned, before realizing what the problem was. âOh, Xiao-Jiu, a lot of people canât see that!â
The concept seemed to shock Xiao-Jiu. âEh?! They canât see red or purple?â
âOr blue or yellow or anything!â Qi-Ge said, before smiling. âWe can because we have each other! Weâre soulmates!â
Xiao-Jiu had always seen colors. He had known Qi-Ge all his life. In his memory, there was never a time that his world was made up of greys, and whites, and blacks.
And for as long as Qi-Ge could remember, he had also seen the colors of the world.
If he thought about it, really cast his mind back to his earliest days, he might remember some years of grey, white and black. But those years were few, and faded, and nothing at all in comparison to the color-filled years of being with Xiao-Jiu.
Xiao-Jiuâs face made an expression of understanding, before lighting up in an ever so uncommon expression of joy.
âOf course we are!â He said, as if itâs the most obvious thing in the world. Then he looked stern, almost pouting as he pointed at Qi-Ge. âAnd we canât tell anyone! Seeing colors seems important, and then weâll be sold apart!â
Well, Xiao-Jiu was always the smart one. Qi-Ge could find no wrong in that, so he followed the command without question. He simply enjoyed the colors, safe in the knowledge that as long as they were there, then Xiao-Jiu was alive.
He didnât say anything as they grew older, or when Xiao-Jiu got sold to the Qiu family, or when Yue Qi was accepted into the sect.
Everyday, sitting in Qiong Ding Peak, he worried that this would be the day he would wake up to a black and white world. That this would be the day he would have to face the fact that he had been too slow, too late, too weak to save Xiao-Jiu. The uniforms didnât help, with their stark white robes and sharp black accents. Sometimes he had to run outside and see the green of the trees and the blue of the sky before he was able to calm down.
There was one day, in the winter, that had been particularly bad. The ground had snow on it, the leaves were all dead and gone, and the sky was a soft grey color that told of a future storm. He spent the entire day telling himself that he could see the red flush on peopleâs faces, the browns of the wood paneling, the soft yellow of the sun, diffused behind the clouds. By nighttime, it hadnât been enough to stop his panic.
He had found a small knife and nicked his hand. The red of his blood had been enough to assure him that Xiao-Jiu was still out there, alive, even if not ok.
The next day, he decided that he couldnât wait anymore.
The next day, he went to go get a sword for himself.
The next day, he was locked in The Caves, alone and in pain and in the dark, with not even colors to keep him company.
Whenever he was conscious, which wasnât all too often, he had scratched and clawed and slammed himself against the walls. He had pleaded to be let out, to be able to go and save Xiao-Jiu, to be able to see anything. His fingers bled, his mouth bled, his ears and eyes and nose and everything bled, but it was too dark and he couldnât see the red.
The blood was black, and the stone was black, and the sword that he was now tied to was black, and that just meant Xiao-Jiu was dead dead dead so what was the point to living? What was stopping him from laying down on the ground, in the puddle of his blood, and letting himself die?
When The Cave was open again, he didnât move. When the light hit his face, he didnât move. When his Shizun came to check on him, he didnât move.
He didnât move, just waited to die until the day that the head disciple of Qian Cao came by, the future Mu Qingfang, dressed in dark greens of his peak. The sight of color brought life back to him, made him aware of just how close he had been to leaving Xiao-Jiu in a world of black and whites and greys. He couldnât do that- Xiao-Jiu had never known anything different. He should never know that world.
The manor was already burned down when Yue Qi managed to get there, and it was only the soft red and orange of the still warm embers that let him know that Xiao-Jiu was still alive, somewhere.
He just didnât know where.
And then he found him, much too long later. Xiao-Jiu found him instead of the other way around, saving his life as well, and didnât that make sense? Xiao-Jiu was always the most capable between the two of them.
âWhere were you?â Xiao-Jiu asked him, later, in the quiet of the medical tent.
The words caught in Yue Qiâs throat. How was he supposed to tell his most important person that he had messed up? That he had gone too fast, too reckless, and failed so extraordinarily that he couldnât even see a way to start making up for it?
How could he explain that he had almost just let himself die? How could he explain that he had almost just left Xiao-Jiu in a world deprived of color?
âIâm sorryâŠâ is what came out instead. Shen Jiu scoffed, and looked away, and told him to get out.
As long as he was still alive. As long as he was there. Xiao-Jiu had always been stubborn like that- staying, even if he clearly hates it, because giving up his position as peak lord would be giving up entirely.
Through all of it- the years, the pain and heartbreak, the distance- Yue Qingyuan took comfort in one thing. The colors were still there. Shen Qingqiu was still alive.
And then Shen Qingqiu fell into a qi deviation. It wasnât uncommon for him, with his heart demons and his unstable core. He probably hid more deviations than anyone could know about, because the only ones they did know about were the ones too big and bad to hide. Yue Qingyuan always checked up on his Shidi, on his soulmate, and was always chased away.
Except this time, Shen Qingqiu wasnât waking up. This time, Shen Jiu wasnât responding to anything Mu Qingfang did for him. This time, Mu Qingfang couldnât do anything more for Xiao-Jiu, leaving him to fight his illness on his own.
This time, this time, this time-
Yue Qingyuan, Yue Qi, Qi-Geâs world faded slowly into greys and blacks and whites. It wasnât all at once, like he thought it would have been. Not a shock of difference, one blink and that was it. No, as he sat at Xiao-Jiuâs bedside, he watched in horror as shadows got darker, the light greens of the room get lighter, and every mid tone turn to grey.
He could do nothing to stop it, even as he called Mu Qingfang back in a panic. Xiao-Jiu was still breathing but Xiao-Jiu was dead, his spirit gone, and that canât happen-
Then Xiao-Jiu woke up- No, Shen Qingqiu woke up. He looked at Qi-Ge with no anger in his eyes, but no recognition either. There was no resentment, but also no acknowledgment. There was nothing.
Yue Qi couldnât see the green of his eyes anymore.
He went home that night, and cut his hand. He watched as the black dropped onto the floor, and hoped that Xiao-Jiu would be happier in his new life.
âI had thought that you werenât my soulmate, for a while.â Xiao-Jiu admitted to him, one night. He was beautiful, hauntingly so. Yue Qi knew that he wasnât actually there, sitting at the table with him, and that he was instead dreaming.
That didnât change anything. Qi-Ge still poured the tea.
âWhen?â He asked, when the silence showed that Shen Jiu wanted him to ask. Shen Jiu hummed.
âWhen you left me. And didnât come back.â He said, causally, as if discussing the weather. Yue Qiâs breath stuttered in pain. âI could still see colors, but you werenât there. You had to be dead to not come back, so you couldnât have been my soulmate.â
Yue Qi shook his head slowly. He was trembling, or maybe it was hard enough to be shaking. He had never thought⊠he had given Shen Jiu reason to doubt their bond? Of course he did- it was all he ever did.
Shen Jiu hit the table, snapping him out of the spiral he had fallen in. He glared, and it was a wonderful sight. He hadnât seen Shen Joyâs sharp, cutting glare since the manâs qi deviation, now two months ago. He had missed it terribly, but took comfort in how happy he was now for the glare to be unnecessary.
âYou donât get to go away into your self loathing right now.â Shen Jiu snapped.
âThis Qi-Ge is sorry.â He said, dry mouth and much more forward in his dream than he would ever be in real life. Shen Jiu hummed, assessing, before the anger just seemed to drain out of him, causing his to slump his shoulders.
âI debated for years if you were actually my soulmate.â He said, taking a sip of tea. âI suppose you loosing your colors is good enough proof.â He laughed, suddenly and cruelly, jerking his hand and spilling the tea out onto the table.
Yue Qingyuan woke up to the echoing sound of that laughter, chest heavy and eyes wet.
Yue Qingyuan didnât say anything about the colors to Shen Qingqiu. What was the point? Maybe Shen Qingqiu still had them in his vision, or maybe he didnât.
Yue Qingyuan wasnât his soulmate anymore, so Yue Qingyuan didnât have the right to know.
So it only stood to reason that it took him months to figure out that Shen Qingqiu could still see colors- Mu Qingfang coming into his office one day, with a tired look in his eyes, even if his face was as passively polite as ever.
âAh, Mu-Shidi.â He greeted, with a practiced smile that he didnât feel. He couldnât see the green that he knew the robes were anymore, and it was as painful as the day that it happened. âWhat can I help you with today?â
ââŠ. Zhangmen-Shixiong.â Mu Qingfang said, almost a little hesitantly. âI know that you didnât want to know about our sect siblings soulmates-â
The last generation of Peak Lords, Yue Qingyuanâs Shizun in particular, had been very⊠particular about soulmates. They needed to be kept under wraps to the outside world, if a cultivator even chose to have one. The standard had been to keep a friendly distance to your soulmate, if you ever wanted to cultivate to immortality. Yue Qingyuan remembered well the lectures he used to get on the subject from his Shizun, which was one of the reasons he had never told the man of Xiao-Jiu, outside of him needing help.
(He was almost sure that the man had figured it out, after the caves. Still, it was never brought up to Yue Qingyuan, and so Yue Qingyuan never brought it up to him.)
One strict rule that had been in place was that the sect leader must know every marital sibling that had a soulmate. Nothing was to be hidden, and nothing was to be spoken about. Peak Lords, in particular, were expected to be the best of the best, and as such above the little things like âsoulmatesâ and âcompanionshipâ. Yue Qingyuan found it stupid, and as he himself had been keeping quiet about a soulmate bond, he threw away the rule at the first true opportunity.
This was the first time in years that Mu Qingfang had even brought it up to him again.
âMy opinion on that still stands.â He said. He looked at the medic in confusion, as Mu Qingfang grimaced.
âI know. This master is sorry to break that rule, then.â He said, before handing him a scroll. âBut itâs about Shen-Shixiong. âŠand Liu-Shidi.â
Yue Qingyuan took the scroll with restraint, but opened it quickly. Shen Qingqiu had been watched carefully, after his brush with death and Without A Cure, by both himself and Mu Qingfang, and Mu Qingfang was on strict orders to report anything of importance to Yue Qingyuan. He allowed some privacy, of course! He trust Mu Qingfang to only give the most pertinent of information, and nothing too personal. Liu Qingge was on a similar watch, after his qi deviation, if not less strict and monitored.
Mu Qingfang starting the conversation with the topics of soulmates, and then bringing in his shidis left a bad taste in Yue Qingyuanâs mouth, and looking at the paper, he had been right. Written on the medical report, in plain documents, was the information that Shen Qingqiu, Liu Qingge, and the disciple Luo Binghe were now⊠soulmates.
âI donât know why it hadnât triggered before, when Luo-Shizhi was initially chosen,â Mu Qingfang confined, when Yue Qingyuan failed to say anything. Failed to do anything besides stare at the characters on the paper. âThat would have been the first time the three were together, but maybe Liu-Shidi had simply been too far away for it to-â
He tuned him out. Yue Qingyuan knew why the soulmate bond hadnât triggered back then- three years ago, Xiao-Jiu had still been his soulmate. Now that was gone, and replaced by⊠who? Shen Qingqiuâs least liked disciple, and his Shidi that he had threaten to kill at every instance since they were teens?
Maybe that was why Shen Qingqiu had hated the two so badly- something in him drew himself to them, and he never had liked being a subject to fate. The only time he had was when-
Yue Qingyuan shut that thought process down with skilled practice. Then he sent Mu Qingfang out mid word. Politely, sure, but he knew from the look the medic gave him that his inattentiveness hadnât gone unnoticed. He would be subjected to a surprise checkup within the week, he was sure.
The door shut behind Mu Qingfang, and Yue Qingyuan didnât look away from the medical report for hours yet.
âThe Brute and The Beast?â Shen Jiu scowled, even as he took a drink of tea. âOf course thatâs what the universe decides- the most humiliating thing for me.â
Yue Qi didnât say anything, simply stared at him from the other side of the table, like a man parched off water. Even here, in his dreams, color was starting to leech out, as he forgot what they looked like.
He was so thankful that he hadnât forgotten what Shen Jiuâs scowled looked like, or his voice as it gave scathing complaints. Maybe that was a bad thing, an unhealthy thing, but he couldnât bring himself to care.
Then, Shen Jiu turned his scowl on him. âAre you just going to stare at me?â He asked, slamming his cup down. âEven now, you cannot, will not, talk to me?â
Yue Qiâs mouth moved without words as he looked at Shen Jiu helplessly. Finally, he got out, âThis Qi-Ge is sorry-â
âSorry? Sorry?! Youâre always sorry!â Xiao-Jiu snapped. âIs that all you know how to say?â
Yue Qingyuan said nothing. He looked down at his hands, already turning white as he lost the colors.
Wordlessly, Shen Jiu screamed, and the tea cup was flung over Yue Qingyuanâs head. It shattered against the wall loudly, and when Yue Qi glanced back at it, the tea now on the wall was rinsing any remaining color off in streams. He couldnât take his eyes off of the melting shades.
âWhy didnât you want to be-â Shen Jiu was angry, furious, but when he took a breath, it shook like he was about to cry. Yue Qi hadnât heard it since he was kids, back the last time that Shen Jiu had a meltdown he couldnât contain like he wanted. His next words were wet. âWhy didnât you fight for me?â
Yue Qingyuanâs eyes widened, and he turned away from tea stain and back to Shen Jiu.
He woke up before he could see his face.
He was dead, killing himself to save his own disciple, his own soulmate. And now Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge were in an endless battle for his body, for the funeral rites.
Yue Qingyuan should be out there, helping his Shidi. He should be doing something at all, besides the bare minimum for the sect, but it was too hard to get himself out of bed some days, much less on a battle field.
Some days, he remembers laying in that cave and waiting to die. Some days, the memory was the only thing that could force him out of bed, the shame of it all propelling him throughout the day.
Some days, he wondered why he hadnât just followed through with it, all those years ago. Let Xiao-Jiu be happy without him, for longer.
Because thatâs what the new start for Shen Qingqiu was supposed to be- a chance to be happy. It didnât work. Nothing ever worked. Why wouldnât the universe just let Shen Qingqiu- Shen Jiu- Xiao-Jiu-
âItâs not that shocking.â Shen Jiu said, slumped over the table slightly and holding the tea cup like it was a cup of alcohol. âThis is my punishment- Iâm a horrible person, Iâve always been a horrible person, and the universe is giving me my just dues.â
âNo!â Yue Qi blurted out, shocked. It was the first words he had said during this dream- the first words he had said in many dreams. As hard as it was to get by, day by day, it was somehow even harder to muster words when put in front of his greatest failure. âNo, Xiao-Jiu, thatâs not-â
âOh, itâs not?â He asked, voice dangerous. His eyes narrowed, and Yue Qi was suddenly struck with the fact they were red rimmed. âIâve had a lot of time to think, Yue Qingyuan, and I know how this world works. âHappinessâ is not for me-â
âNoâŠâ Yue Qi said weakly, drowned out by Shen Jiuâs rising voice.
ââPeaceâ is not for me-â
Yue Qi shook his head harshly, eyes squeezed closed.
ââSoulmatesâ are not for me. You are not for me. You made that clear, when you-â
âLeft meâ, Yue Qingyuan finished for him. âWhen you left me to die. When you didnât come back. When you-â
â-refused to tell me the reason and-â
Yue Qi looked up at him, startled. âThe-The reason?â
âThe reason!â Shen Jiu yelled, jumping up. He knocked over the table, only for it to dissolve away, like it was never there. âAll I ever want to know was why! But I was so far beneath you that you couldnât even tell me that-â
Yue Qi couldnât move, couldnât breathe. His cheeks suddenly felt wet as he stared up at Shen Jiu, and all he could manage to think about was how much crying would make it worse-
He woke up with tears still on his face. The sun was high in the sky- he had overslept, and a disciple hadnât come to wake him. He needed to get up. He needed to do work.
Instead he laid there for hours, staring blankly at the ceiling while crying.
Yue Qingyuan didnât dream of Shen Jiu again for a long time. Years.
