talesfromnatea

[talesfromnatea]

Shen Yuan suffering actual consequences of Qiu Haitang revealing to fucking everyone that Shen Jiu was a slave.

Lords and ladies starting to look at him with badly disguised disgust. Some of the other peak lords coming with barbed comments. Someone questioning if he even was legally allowed to be a peak lord, if he's a runaway, not even a freed slave. Still property. Less than human.

Others looking at him with pity, telling him it must've been hard, he's certainly done something amazing, going from being less than nothing to the Qing Jing Peak Lord, in an inspiration porn way.

[talesfromnatea]

Head disciple era Shen Qingqiu, Yue Qingyuan, Qi Qingqi, Wei Qingwei and Shang Qinghua get sent on a joint nighthunt. It's super awkward for the others to be on a night hunt with both Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan.

On the way back, they fly over some town, and suddenly Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan, who have been at odds this whole trip (with Yue Qingyuan trying to be nice to Shen Qingqiu, and Shen Qingqiu angrily rebuffing him) freeze, share a Look, and they both just dive with their swords.

The others follow them, after a few moments of sheer confusion and concern. What they find is even more confusing and concerning.

Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan are fighting side by side, in a dingy courtyard. Killing non-cultivators indiscriminately. And brutally. Shen Qingqiu wielding Xiu Ya is as elegant as ever, but Yue Qingyuan is essentially killing these people with their bare hands.

There's children - dirty, filthy, hurt - hiding wherever they can.

A few of the kids cheer when the last man dies, head cut off.

Shang Qinghua is the one who figures it out. Whispering slavers just loud enough for everyone to hear.

After, they all agree. They saw nothing.

[talesfromnatea]

Peak Lords! Not all of them tho that's too many to draw

Shen Yuan's (who obviously also has a Qing- courtesy name) peak being about hunting/scouting/recon and Xian Shu being about textiles comes from this post. I named SY's peak Zhen Cha 侦察, literally "reconnaissance" or "scouting", according to Translate

Zhen Cha Peak also breeds animals for their purposes, so it also functions as the Beast Peak, and Second Peak Lord Shen gets to have a beast menagerie<3. It's also meant to be the same AU as this post I made about Shen Jiu having been sold into slavery as a kid and then meeting his brother - who was NOT sold - for the first time as disciples

[talesfromnatea]

Qiu Haitang coming to Cang Qiong Peak with her accusations about Shen Jiu, and being taken to meet the Sect Leader, because of course the Sect Leader is the only one who can handle accusations not only against a Peak Lord, but the second Peak Lord.

Yue Qingyuan smiling pleasantly and non-descriptly as Qiu Haitang details the betrayal of her family's beloved slave, her fiancé, who brutally slaughtered her family.

Yue Qingyuan waiting until she's said everything, and then just asking, were you aware that your brother beat your fiancé? Whipped him? Locked him up and starved him for days? That he possibly did worse than that? Did you know your servants took a cue from their master and treated him worse than filth where you could not see?

What are you talking about? Qiu Haitang asks, upset and angry. Gege would never!

He would. Yue Qingyuan knows, because he was there. He saw it. But then, Qiu-guniang, why would you have remembered me? A lady such as yourself would never bother to remember a mere slave, now would she? Well, any other slave than the one your brother wanted to keep to torture for the rest of his life?

Now will you swear on your life and your family's and ancestors' memories that you will never bring this up again, or will he have to do something drastic to protect Peak Lord Shen against the cursed Qiu-family?

He failed him last time, but he will not do so again, he promises with a terrifyingly sincere smile.

[talesfromnatea]

Why the fuck does Bow keep engaging in close combat when he doesn't have to he has a LONG RANGE WEAPON

[talesfromnatea]

"Forever" is a word that cries/That I belong to you/That endless nights so far away are gone, and you/Could never love another

And I love you too

(I Belong To You - Caro Emerald)

[talesfromnatea]

Zhuzhi-lang is to Tianlang-jun and Su Xiyan what Wen Ning is to wangxian

[talesfromnatea]

okay Shen Jiu&Shen Yuan are siblings AU except they meet AS DISCIPLES. Shen Yuan, head disciple of the Animal/Beast Husbandry Peak (or, if we go with this post's awesome ideas, the Hunting/Scouting Peak) runs into Qing Jing Peak Head Disciple Shen Jiu and they're both just staring at each other because that's my face!!! Why do you have it!! But Shen Jiu leaves without a word except a huff bc he's not admitting to being disturbed.

Shen Yuan writes his (peasant) mother that night like. Hey mom!!! What the fuck!! We even share a family name!!! What!!!

He gets a hesitant reply that yes. That might be his ge. Who Shen Yuan did not know he had. He thought he was an only child! Turns out his parents sold his then-two-years-old brother for a sack of rice during a famine year when their mother was pregnant with him! What the FUCK!

So after having a crisis he goes to find Shen Jiu and is like. So... hah... I'm your didi?

obviously Shen Jiu is fucking pissed. What do you MEAN his parents sold him as a slave but lovingly raised their SECOND child! He wants to kill Shen Yuan so bad. Also someone but Yue Qi now knows he was a slave. This is not good.

Shen Yuan is not giving up though!! He wants to know his gege and also he feels fucking BAD and wants to do SOMETHING about the fact that his newly found Jiu-ge is so clearly fucking miserable. He can see it!! That's his own face!!! You can't lie with his own face!!!

[talesfromnatea]

Wonder if the ladies at the Warm Red Pavillion were concerned and confused about why Master Shen suddenly never came back after Shen Yuan took the body

[talesfromnatea]

A Promise Unbroken

AO3

Summary:

“Yes, yes, it’s me,” Yue Qi replied, his expression raw with something Qiu Jianluo couldn’t comprehend. “It’s me. Qi-ge came back, Xiao-Jiu. Like I promised.”

Warnings: slavery, child abuse, one line that vaguely alludes to CSA

When Qiu Jianluo had woken up that day, he had been convinced it would be a good day. The little slave, Xiao Jiu, had been late with his breakfast, which had given him plenty excuses enough to knock him to the floor. Not that he needed excuses, he could do whatever he pleased with his own property. It was also amusing to have the slave try out a bit of his breakfast, see the way the rat got to taste something meant for his betters, something he’d never get more than Qiu Jianluo wanted him to have, at the same time as it made sure the rat hadn’t poisoned it before bringing it. After a leisurely breakfast with the slave kneeling by his feet, he’d gotten dressed in fine robes and met up with his dear A-Tang.

After, he joined Fuqin with the work of running the estate. Xiao Jiu served as his assistant, and it gave him no small amount of pleasure watching him succeed to keep A-Tang from seeing his limp from yesterday. When the tea was brought, Fuqin had been the one to taste it and, displeased, pour the pot into Xiao Jiu’s lap. The boy had been unable to keep in his gasp of pain at the heat. Then, he had been sent off to rewrite business ledgers. At least he did have decent handwriting, for a slave. Qiu Jianluo was such a gracious master, allowing him to learn how to read and write.

Indeed, a very good day.

A while after lunch, a servant rushed into Qiu Jianluo’s office, kneeling on the floor, breathless from hurrying as he announced that cultivators were here, Lord Qiu. He frowned, but stood, waving the servant away. Straightening out his robes, he glanced at himself in the reflection of a shiny decorative pot. He looked quite handsome, if he could say it himself. What cultivators might want with their town, he had no clue, but he was not going to say no to some prestigious guests. It would certainly be something to brag about to the Qius’ peers at a later date.

With his expensive robes sweeping behind him, he went to the greeting room, where he was sure he would be finding the rest of his family as well. And indeed he did. All of them were already kneeling by a table, opposite of an entourage of young cultivators in differently coloured robes. Interestingly, only one of them was older than Qiu Jianluo; the rest were clearly in the their teens just like himself. He smiled at A-Tang before bowing politely to the cultivators and his parents, and the cultivators bowed back.

After greetings, he took his seat by his Fuqin’s side, smiling pleasantly. “This lord is honoured to greet such illustrious guests.”

A-Tang was clearly struggling to sit still, too excited about the novelty of these young masters. At Muqin’s strict glance, she did make an attempt though, her hands fiddling with the yaopei hanging from her waist. His meimei truly was adorable.

“Gongzi,” one of the cultivators greeted. He was the tallest, but had the youngest face of them all, and wore white. A sword that even a non-cultivator like Qiu Jianluo could tell was bursting with power was slung over his back. “This disciple is Liu Junlai of the Liu Clan and of Bai Zhan Peak, Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. My fellow cultivators are He Yurui-” he gestured at the oldest cultivator, who looked to be in his early twenties and wore black, and then at the final, third one, also in black. “-and Yue Qi, senior and junior disciples of Qiong Ding Peak respectively.”

Qiu Jianluo’s eyes widened before he schooled his expression back into neutrality. The Liu heir, huh? The Liu was one of the wealthiest, most ancient noble families in the empire. Oh, they would definitely need to make a good impression on this one. The other two did not matter much beyond their status as Cang Qiong Mountain Sect-cultivators, since he did not recognize either of their names, but of course, he and his family were gracious hosts. They would all surely be well taken care of. But no wonder it was the youngest of them who took charge of speaking, outranking the other two so much.

As Muqin took care of assuring them how honoured they were to host them, Qiu Jianluo took the opportunity to look them over once more. Liu Junlai was, again, clearly young – he could not be older than fourteen. The other boy, the one in black, who had been introduced as Yue Qi wore a placid smile that said absolutely nothing, and he guessed he was seventeen or so. There was, however, something oddly familiar about him.

The elder cultivator hung back, and appeared to function more as a chaperone of the two boys than anything else. Curious.  

“My lords, my ladies,” Liu Junlai finally said. “We are here to make a purchase.”

“Oh?” Fuqin replied. “What could these humble Qius offer?”

“A slave.”

Muqin blinked once, the only sign of surprise on her well-bred face. Similarly, Fuqin did not react. A-Tang, on the other hand, squinted, opening her mouth to question this.

Before she could make a fool out of herself, the sweetheart, Qiu Jianluo tilted his head. “We will be happy to provide, of course, Liu-gongzi. This one must ask, however. We are not involved in the slave trade. Why have you come to us?”

This time, it was not Liu Junlai who responded. For the first time, Yue Qi opened his mouth. His voice was utterly pleasant and non-descript as he said, “We are here for a specific one, gongzi. We have asked around in town and have been assured that he is still in your ownership. Shen Jiu, Xiao Jiu. We want him.”

What.

Only just keeping himself from gaping, Qiu Jianluo stared at the cultivators. They wanted the little rat? They’d come here just for that? What kind of insanity was this? And how did they even know about him? He took a sip of the tea the servants had poured them all just to gather himself. Preposterous.

“You can’t have him!” A-Tang exclaimed, eyes wide. Horror clear on her face. It did not fit her at all, and he wanted that look off her. “He’s my fiancé!”

Liu Junlai frowned, and then said with enough judgement to make Qiu Jianluo want to blush with mortification, “The young lady is engaged to a slave?”

Before any of them could think of an answer to justify it, Yue Qi’s mild voice interrupted. “If Shen Jiu wishes to remain to marry Qiu-guniang, he will of course be allowed to do so. I will, however, be purchasing his contract.” Then, without waiting for a response, he placed a gold yuanbao on the table. “Please bring him here immediately.”

Qiu Jianluo seethed, and wanted to snap that Xiao Jiu was not for sale, he was much too fun to torture for that – not to mention that his sale would upset A-Tang – but as Fuqin’s eyes widened at the gold, he could only clench his fists under the table. Any amount of gold was a ridiculous price to pay for a common slave: when Qiu Jianluo had purchased him years ago, he had only paid a single silver coin. After all, who would give more than that for a filthy, malnourished beggar? The only reason it was that much in the first place was that the slavers had made a habit of renting them out as day labourers sometimes, and selling him would lose them that income.

“Bring the slave,” Muqin told one of the servants, who bowed deeply and hurried out, before whispering to A-Tang to quit her whining immediately. Qiu Jianluo wanted to glare at her for that: A-Tang did not deserve any harsh words! Ever! He refrained, of course. Glaring at one’s mother in front of guests would be disgraceful.

There was a strange sort of energy to the Yue-cultivator as they waited. Fuqin attempted polite small talk, but it fell flat: Liu-gongzi did not seem interested in it, and the Yue-boy was staring at the door, barely blinking. The older cultivator had not spoken at all, the whole time they had been in here. Rude. Qiu Jianluo was glad for it though: it gave him time to get his face under control so he would not snap at the cultivators. Fuqin would kill him if he did, no doubt.

The door opened, and Qiu Jianluo turned to look, glaring at the slave who caused this much trouble. Xiao Jiu was silent, gaze on the floor as he stepped in and knelt, bowing low. At the very least, the servant had had the brains to make sure he looked decent before he brought him here. Xiao Jiu’s hair was in a low ponytail, and his clothes were clean, unlike the tea-soaked ones he had worn earlier. Ink stained his hands, but that could not be helped.

“Come here, slave,” Fuqin ordered, and Xiao Jiu bowed even lower before he slowly stood up to get closer. His movement were stiff, and Qiu Jianluo remembered that oh, right, he had had him whipped yesterday. The bastard still had not been broken out of the habit to speak back, which had been so much fun. He gritted his teeth. Apparently, he wouldn’t get to play with him more after this.

As Xiao Jiu made a move to kneel again, closer to the table this time but still at a respectful distance, Yue Qi made a disgusting, choked noise. “Xiao Jiu.”

The slave froze. Gaze snapping up, and Qiu Jianluo wanted to punch him for having the guts to look their guests in the face.

“Qi-ge?” he whispered, voice dry and cracked. What the fuck? Qi-ge who?

“Yes, yes, it’s me,” Yue Qi replied, his expression raw with something Qiu Jianluo couldn’t comprehend. “It’s me. Qi-ge came back, Xiao-Jiu. Like I promised.”

There was a crack as Xiao Jiu went to his knees without any of his regular un-slave-like grace. He was staring at the boy, eyes flicking up and down, taking him in. Everything from the fine, black robes to the silver guan that held up his hair. Likewise, Yue Qi was staring back at the slave. Cataloguing his hair – well brushed, since A-Tang liked to play dress-up with both their favourite toy – and the simple grey duan da he wore. It was good quality for a slave: Qiu Jianluo would not allow property of his household to look anything but put together in front of others.

“Xiao Jiu,” Qiu Jianluo growled. “Where are your manners? Slaves do not look their betters in the face.”

Flinching harshly, Xiao Jiu’s gaze immediately flickered to the floor, back bending into a bow. Qiu Jianluo could imagine the words he wanted to spit, but he never showed that backbone of his in front of Fuqin or Muqin. Unlike Qiu Jianluo, who was merciful, they would rather just kill disobedient slaves than deal with teaching them. He had a particularly vivid memory of watching one get whipped to death when he was A-Tang’s age, though he had never bothered to find out what the thing had done to earn such a punishment.

“This lowly slave begs forgiveness, Master,” Xiao Jiu said, and Qiu Jianluo relished in the barely held back rage in those words.

“His contract,” Liu Junlai interrupted, apparently having grown weary with whatever the hell was going on between those two.

“Ah, yes, of course. Our apologies,” Muqin said, once more waving a servant away to fetch.

The whole time the servant was gone, Yue Qi did not stop starting at the slave. He barely looked like he wanted to blink. It gave Qiu Jianluo a chance to stare at him some more, and as something like sorrow washed over Yue Qi’s face as Xiao Jiu shifted slightly and gave a hiss of pain – probably having aggravated his wounds again, delightful – his eyes widened. He was familiar. Qiu Jianluo’s face fell, white-hot hatred filling him. That face. It was that fucking runaway slave who’d been involved when Xiao Jiu injured his horse! This cultivator was a runaway slave here to purchase another slave. What a fucking joke! And even worse, that did not bode well for what they were planning with the brat. Were they going to free the disgusting creature? Hateful.

The servant came back, kneeling and handing the contract over to Fuqin with both hands. Fuqin dismissed him, and then handed it over to Liu-gongzi, who slid over the gold piece. Without a glance, Liu-gongzi forwarded the contract to the Runaway, who took it gingerly with shaking hands.

“Very well,” Liu-gongzi said, and why was he involved in this whole affair? Surely a Liu couldn’t be involved with filthy animals like these? But when why was he here? He stood up, and bowed. “Our business is concluded. We will take our leave.”

Saying the requisites adieus made Qiu Jianluo’s throat burn with disgust and fury, especially as the Runaway hurried over to the slave to help him to his feet, and the slave clung to him, staring at him with wide, disbelieving, hopeful eyes.

The first step outside Qiu Manor was terrifying in the best way, Xiao Jiu decided as he held onto Qi-ge’s arm like a lifeline. They had gone to leave immediately upon leaving the greeting hall, after Qi-ge had asked if he had anything of his own to bring, and he had shook his head. Qi-ge. Qi-ge. Qi-ge was here. He had come back. Xiao Jiu’s heart soared. Never before had anything been terrifying and good at the same time – there had always just been so many terrifying things, and a few, rare moments of happiness – but this was just that. His slave contract rested safely against his own chest, under his robes. Qi-ge had handed it to him as soon as possible, clearly uncomfortable with holding his Xiao Jiu’s life in his hands. Handed him his own contract. Handed him his emancipation.

What now? Obviously, he was going to go home with Qi-ge. But he was fifteen. Was that too old to cultivate, even though he knew a few tricks already? How would he make a living? It didn’t matter. The only things that mattered was the dizzying knowledge that for the first time in his life, no one owned him, and it was thanks to Qi-ge.

As they got to an inn, though – the best inn in town, outside of which they’d begged a few times when they’d managed to steal the spot first – the adrenaline was starting to wear off. The lordling Qi-ge had brought marched inside as though he owned the place, with the quiet older cultivator following. Giving them a moment alone outside the doors.

Xiao Jiu took a deep breath, and finally got a good look at the other. He looked like a noble, wearing those deep black robes in silk like a proper lord. His hair was shiny in a way it had never been before, and his cheeks were full, face no longer gaunt from always being on the verge of starvation. Even the way he spoke was different. Gone was the ugly, swaying, coarse tones of the slums, exchanged for the proper, melodic speech of the rich.

Next to him, Xiao Jiu looked wretched. He wasn’t quite as thin as he used to be, since the Qius didn’t actually want him to die – Qiu Jianluo found him much too fun to abuse for that, and Qiu Haitang would’ve been sad – but his skin clung to his ribs and cheekbones. He knew there was a dead quality to his eyes that never went away these days, and miscoloured bruises and sun-damage had ruined his skin.

“Xiao Jiu,” Qi-ge whispered reverently, as though none of those things mattered. Grasping his hand like he never wanted to let go. “You’re free. We’re both free. You’ll come with me to Cang Qiong, and we’ll cultivate together. Master promised that you’re not too old, and I know you’re far more talented than I am. You’ve always been.”

Looking at him, at the joy in Qi-ge’s eyes as they met his, Xiao Jiu let out a slow breath. He was wretched. He was a rotten, disgusting thing, broken beyond repair. He was spiteful, and angry, and he wanted to hurt people like they had hurt him. But Qi-ge loved him, and had come back for him, and that made it... Not okay. But better. And he had always been ambitious. Too ambitious, making him bad even at being a slave. “Promise, Qi-ge?”

Qi-ge nodded immediately, so quickly his head might fall off. “I promise.”

“Okay. Qi-ge would never break a promise to his Xiao Jiu.”

The responding smile was blinding.

As they made a move to go inside, though, Xiao Jiu frowned. “Those other cultivators, though. They look like lords. Even Qiu Jianluo, that dog fucker, seemed to respect the one who spoke. We’re sla- former slaves. How would they be okay with us in their sect?”

With a nod, Qi-ge said, “Don’t worry. He-qianbei was just here on orders of my master, since we’re too young to travel alone. He won’t say anything, because Master said not to. And Liu-shidi… I needed someone with authority. His family is extremely influential, so if the Qius had refused to give you to me, he would’ve helped. But he won’t say anything. He’s loyal, and my friend. And he didn’t care when I told him I was a runaway slave and I needed his help to save my didi.”

“You trust him? Really?” Xiao Jiu squinted sceptically. He was a lord. There were no people less trustworthy than the fucking nobility. But Qi-ge nodded again.

”…Fine. I guess if they throw us out of the sect, or refuse to let me in, at least I’m out of this fucking hellhole. And Qi-ge will come with me, right?”

With the warmest, safest voice in the world, Qi-ge promised, ”Anywhere you go, I will go, Xiao Jiu. Now come inside, we brought new robes for you. You’ll love them, they’re even nicer than our uniforms.”

Xiao Jiu did.

I gave Liu Qingge the personal name Jun Lai (峻莱) meaning "Steep and Victorious" according to a baby names website because that seemed like something the Lius would name their son. I do hate having to use made-up names for characters who are only referred to by their courtesy names, but it could not be helped in this case. This is wayyyyy before any of them could be named head disciples, and much less Peak Lords, after all

[talesfromnatea]

Binghe is swooning rn

[talesfromnatea]

I can't believe AO3 doesn't have a tag for Yue Qingyuan Came Back

[talesfromnatea]

Shen Jiu and Qi Qingqi should've been besties bonded over the fact that they both think women are superior and men are dangerous assholes

[talesfromnatea]

Section of a fic I won't write out bc I don't have further ideas. But. Definitely currently obsessed with Shen Jiu age-regression slavery reveals so!

Scrambling, Xiao Jiu got on his knees, pressing his forehead to the floor. In the back of his mind, he noticed it was much harder than it should be, that his arms got caught in too-long sleeves that were not as rough as a slave’s garb should be. But that was not the most important thing. “This lowly one apologizes,” he gasped out. “This one didn’t-”

“Shen Qingqiu?” he was interrupted.

His mouth snapped shut.

“Shen Qingqiu, what the hell are you doing?” the voice demanded again, and then a hand grabbed his shoulder and foisted him upright. Pain shout through his body as the whip scars on his back were aggravated. The man in white glared at him. “What’s your game?”

Game? Xiao Jiu would’ve laughed, hadn’t he been so terrified. He had no idea who Shen Qingqiu was, but someone like him didn’t have games. There was only survival. But the master was clearly expecting an answer. But there was no answer he could give that would tell this one what he wanted. No answer that wouldn’t get him beaten for the wrong one.

Fine. If there was no right answer, then he might as well not even try to find one. He opened his mouth to reply when a familiar, gentle voice interrupted.

“Begging the master’s forgiveness,” said Qi-ge, carefully moving in front of Xiao Jiu, making the man release him. Qi-ge’s gaze was on the floor, respectful, and he knelt, lowering himself into a bow, but he remained firmly in place in front of Xiao Jiu. “These lowly slaves do not know what or who you speak of.”

Qi-ge. That stupid, stupid idiot, putting himself in front of Xiao Jiu like that, risking these cultivators’ fury. Once they were alone, he would scream at him for taking a risk like that. But right now, the tremble in his body finally subsidized. Qi-ge was here, too. Then it was fine. Anything was fine, as long as they were together.

The whispers started up again. This time, he could hear them clearly, and there was one word that was repeated over and over again. “Slaves?” The voices were shocked, but some of them were filled with disgust. Of course they were, why wouldn't these rich assholes be disgusted by filthy, rotten little slaves?

Xiao Jiu bent himself into a bow as well behind Qi-ge. Were these people stupid? Obviously they were slaves. And obviously these people had to know that, or else why would they be here! He lowered his head enough that his hair would cover his facial expressions, and only then did he allow himself to scowl.

“Zhangmen-shixiong?” came another questioning voice, but when neither of them responded, another man came up close.

This one wore pale green and white robes, Xiao Jiu could see from the hems near the floor. “How old are you?” he asked quietly.

Qi-ge responded, “This lowly one is twelve, Immortal Master. Shen Jiu is ten.”

“Shen Jiu? Is that your name?”

Xiao Jiu forced himself to nod, once. “If it pleases the masters.” If these people were their new masters, who knew if they’d keep the name. Renaming your slaves was hardly unusual. He would hope it’d be better than Nine, but there was no point to hoping. It wouldn’t be. Any name he was given would likely be crueller than the last.

“And you?” he asked, presumably to Qi-ge.

“This slave is called Yue Qi, Immortal Master.”

“Look at me, please.”

They both looked up, though Xiao Jiu carefully kept his gaze trained on the man’s jaw instead of his eyes. They weren’t… cruel, at least. Not yet. His gaze seemed soft, but Xiao Jiu knew better than to trust that. The ones who looked the nicest were always the worst.

“This one’s name is Mu Qingfang,” the man said. “I am the Peak Lord of Qian Cao Peak. And I presume you both have no idea how you got here?” Wasn’t that one of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect’s peaks? Where were they?!

Qi-ge shook his head. “Is Master Mu these lowly ones’ new owner?”

“What the fuck?” one of the cultivators exclaimed. She was ignored.

[talesfromnatea]

Been reading a lot of de-aged Shen Jiu fics bc I love them but I will say. No way that EVERY peak lord would react with compassion or understanding finding out that one (or two) of their own are escaped slaves

Most of these people are lords and ladies. A fair few of them probably had slaves themselves. They're going to find it disgraceful that a slave dares to impersonate a master. There's a reason Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu keeps this information carefully guarded.

Not all of them, of course. It is possible that Qi Qingqi, who seems to see herself as a protector of her girls against those who would use them, would be compassionate. Mu Qingfang is a nice man and would not hold it over them. Liu Qingge doesn't seem the kind of person who gives a shit (though he'd hopefully reevaluate his view of Shen-shixiong slightly now that he knows he's not a spoiled young master). But SOME of the peak lords would. That's how the world works

Imagine Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu having to try to rebuild everything they've worked for with half their shidis and shimeis looking at them with pity, the other half with disgust, and maybe one or two of them acting like this isn't that noteworthy

[talesfromnatea]

Shen Yuan doesn't only inherit Shen Jiu's muscle memory for cultivation, but all of it: the instinctive fear of men, having to force himself not to flinch away from them and especially when they're loud, the way he can only relax when around women who cannot hurt him or when fully alone, the phantom pains of a whip upon his back giving him scars that are so barely visible now that Shen Yuan had not noticed them before when he walks past a public flogging

Shen Yuan - Qingqiu - does not understand at all why he's so scared and in pain all the time, and it's horrible

[talesfromnatea]

The fact that Xie Lian's cooking was decent before his mother died is one of the worst things in tgcf somehow