Chapter Text
In the early days after getting poisoned with a Without-A-Cure, it didn’t seem much to Shen Qingqiu. It was just another plot device among hundreds meant to make the nth wife a damsel in distress to be saved by the protagonist.
Because of this, Mu Qingfang’s warnings about the effects of the poison did not quite sink in Shen Qingqiu’s mind. He merely took the healer’s prescription and went on his way.
He honestly did not know what the fuss was about. After all, the cultivation world was full of miraculous remedies to all sorts of maladies, unhindered by the limitations of the mortal world he had come from. Surely Without-A-Cure was not serious enough to warrant this much attention.
Yue Qingyuan did not need to look so weighed by guilt at having not been there during the invasion when he heard of what happened, nor did Mu Qingfang need to look so grave while delivering the news. Even the stoic and gruff Bai Zhan warlord had a frown on his face.
Shen Qingqiu was at Mid-Core formation and currently an immortal. Armed with an endless supply of medicine from the best healer the cultivation world had to offer, there really wasn’t anything to worry about, truly.
Was what Shen Qingqiu thought, at least, until the first blockage occurred.
Shen Qingqiu was with Liu Qingge when the pain hit him.
Next thing he knew, Shen Qingqiu was crouching on the floor, his head and torso curled protectively around his right arm. His forearm and hand were writhing helplessly, as if seeking a position that would not make the pain worse but finding no relief no matter which way it positioned itself.
Shen Qingqiu could feel his breaths coming out fast, hissing between clenched teeth, as if trying to contain the growing hysteria he was feeling from the panic of being hit with something like this out of nowhere– what was- what was happening to him?!
But soon enough, Shen Qingqiu was panting harshly, unbidden whines slipping past trembling lips. If Shen Qingqiu had any sense left with him at that moment, he would have been mortified at the embarrassing display he made in front of his shidi, but there was no room in his mind except for the sharp ripping ache that was racing down his arm to the very tips of his fingertips.
Beside him, he could vaguely recognise Liu Qingge hovering. Someone seemed to be talking to him. Shen Qingqiu assumed it was Liu Qingge. He tried to make out the words but his efforts were in vain for the words remained muffled against the throbbing of his heart in his ears that drowned out everything but the pain, the pain that was still there and only growing.
Hands tried to grip him as if to carry him, but it jostled his right arm, which did not at all help matters. A desperate whine filled the air and Shen Qingqiu distantly realized it had come from him.
The hands left him as if in a panic, which also makes Shen Qingqiu let out a whimper, an aching loneliness resounding through his chest at the thought of being left all alone with whatever this was.
Shen Qingqiu tries to search blindly for those hands, looking past tears he had not noticed had already spilled over onto his cheeks, but only ends up dragging himself closer to the ground, his knees crashing roughly against the gritty earth.
The hands immediately return, this time circling around him in support, likely to prevent him from face planting into the ground, while also avoiding the limb that was currently giving him so much grief.
Shen Qingqiu felt warm against those arms, those hands now rubbing soothing circles into his back. Shen Qingqiu pushes his head against the chest of his benefactor, whom he could only assume, once again, was Liu Qingge.
‘Poor guy,’ Shen Qingqiu thought to himself through the haze, ‘demoted to being a babysitter for this crybaby of a peak lord.’
Dazedly, Shen Qingqiu buries the crown of his head even further into the comfort of the warmth of his martial brother, seeking any sort of distraction from the burning of his arm that he wanted more than anything to cut off. What was an arm anyway, compared to being strapped to a torture device zapping him 24/7.
Thankfully, it seems that this torture device has found itself an off button as the pain gradually, but still so slowly, tapered off into a more manageable aching throb that did not have Shen Qingqiu out of his mind with the pain. It still made him want to cry, but Shen Qingqiu was still grateful for it because it was not as bad as it was a few moments ago. Not as bad as it could be, he has now come to realize.
“This... this one is a-alright now, Liu-shidi. Apologies f-for the inconvenience,” Shen Qingqiu breathes out. He’s quite proud that he did so with barely a stutter. After that ordeal, he was surprised he could even think, let alone talk.
Liu Qingge immediately stiffens before him once he hears Shen Qingqiu speak again. After a few moments of silence pass, moments which Shen Qingqiu gratefully takes advantage of to catch his breath, Liu Qingge bites out a reply so tense, Shen Qingqiu thought quite surely that Liu Qingge was very much annoyed with this whole affair.
"Not an inconveinece," his grumpy shidi says.
A burst of warmth blooms in Shen Qingqiu's chest as hears his shidi's attempts to hide his true feelings despite how uncomfortable he must be trying to take care of his burdensome shixiong, and even taking the initiative to prevent Shen Qingqiu from literally eating dirt. Shen Qingqiu figures he should probably stand up right now and relieve Liu Qingge of his inconvenience, because despite what his shidi said, it really couldn't be all that pleasant to be holding on to someone that was staining his robes with snot and tears.
Despite that, Shen Qingqiu made no move to remove himself from the confines of Liu Qingge’s arms, nor did Liu Qingge attempt to let him go.