Chapter Text
Yue Qingyuan didn't know how to react.
The incessant tapping of his own nails upon the wood of his tables as he looked to the losses of the immortal alliance conference where over twenty disciples had died -three belonging to Cang Qiong- and thought to how weak the peak must seem because of it.
Gods! Yue Qingyuan wished to stuff a knife into Hua Qingban's face for relief of this stress. The man was close to cracking.
The Huli Jing had caused so much hatred from Yue Qingyuan and had corrupted his Xiao-Jiu to tolerate Yue Qingyuan getting grey hairs, even cultivation would not save the man.
At least the feeling of hatred was mutual between the two men, an unspoken bond forged through years of rivalry and conflict.
Each encounter between them was charged with tension, as even the other Peak Lords would not wish to be involved, despite the fact of Hua Qingban was definitely doing…something to them.
Both men had spent countless hours plotting against each other, relishing every chance to undermine the other’s efforts.
In a strange way, this mutual hatred provided a sense of purpose and clarity, driving them to excel in their endeavors, even if it was primarily to outdo one another, though Hua Qingban had everything he wanted and none of his deficit.
It was a twisted camaraderie, one that kept them as two sides to a flower with Hua Qingban was the beauty that all saw and Yue Qingyuan was the stem of a lotus buried in the mud.
Yue Qingyuan's posture dipped as he cradled his head as he felt a headache coming to consume him as they always had and a part of Yue Qingyuan wished to fall into a deeper depression so that all knew and would hate Hua Qingban for causing such things.
But. Of course, Hua Qingban had more positive opinions for actually being able to control Shen Qingqiu. But he was controlling his Xiao-Jiu.
Such a crime should be punishable by chopping off the man's hands for daring to use his Huli Jing charm on Yue Qingyuan's beloved before the man was even able to say anything.
He had yet to even explain the cave.
Yue Qingyuan always believed that he could easily just explain everything yet each and every time he tried, he became a fly stuck in a spider's web and found himself buzzing faster than ever, only to not even get an inch closer to where they needed to be.
Oh. Such hatred filled Yue Qingyuan's very soul as he desired the man to be gone from Shen Qingqiu's side. He was disgusting.
As the oak trees of Cang Qiong peak dug their roots deep into the soil in an attempt to stabilise themselves, so did Yue Qingyuan as he left his office in favour of the outdoors. Any and all disciples bowed but were ignored.
Yue Qingyuan found himself within the forest which each generation would add a sampling to as a declaration of their existence through the oaks, but Yue Qingyuan instead planted a bamboo tree that he had stolen from his Xiao-Jiu's peak.
Perfect. Anything that reminded the sect leader of Shen Qingqiu was perfect, and seeing this tree always calmed him down. Yue Qingyuan felt desire.
The sect leader -in a moment of desperation- embraced the stalk as if he was clutch onto a beloved one, although this was not far from the truth. Sect Leader Yue Qingyuan smiled at the thought.
Shen Qingqiu would have spent his time around this stalk had Yue Qingyuan not taken it for himself, proving his devotion and connection to the boy he still cared most about, above all he cared for his Xiao-Jiu as he could not save him then but could now.
Sigh. Yue Qingyuan released the thin stalk as if he was the thing most likely to snap. He was supposed to be rational.
But there's a thousand voices, with one of them taking charge as if there was no one with the main identity; Yue Qingyuan was a broken mirror trying to find shards to match the original image that was ever-changing.
The world did not match what would be optimal for him.
But Yue Qingyuan could still remember the lack of care from anyone when he lived upon the streets like there was no better place.
He was a beast and would forever be one.