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Ever since the fever, Shen Qingqiu's physical health suffered a blow and it hasn't gone unnoticed by his disciples and fellow peak lords, though no one was able to explain why. Shen Qingqiu cursed in his head, even in this transmigrated world he could not escape the chronic ills and aches of his previous body. He was truly unlucky.
He does his best to conceal it. After all, it could be said that he has had a lifetime of experience, pun intended. His lungs are used to suppressing coughs and eyes to hiding glassiness.
But it doesn't always work, to his demise. He is, nevertheless, still human and susceptible to surprises. The first time an attack sneaks up on him, he is in the middle of giving his mission report to the Cang Qiong sect leader when his breath catches in his throat and he breaks into a barking fit of coughs. He opens his fan to hide his face, as if it would muffle the harsh sound.
"Shidi!" Yue Qingyuan immediately rushes to his side, hands hovering as if the lightest touch would break him like thin glass.
Shen Qingqiu waves him off, signalling that he is fine. He just needs ride it out. He wishes the coughs would stop now because it hurts and if anything else, to quell the growing concern on his Shixiong's face and his own increasing embarrassment.
It dies down after a minute and he stands there hunched, trying to catch his breath and not appear winded.
"Shidi, are you okay?" Yue Qingyuan asks, voice overflowing with concern.
Shen Qingqiu straightens, and smoothens a crinkle on his robes. "I am okay. Apologies for worrying Shixiong."
Yue Qingyuan frowns. "Let me call Mu-shidi over."
Shen Qingqiu closes his fan. "No need. I just choked a little. Allow me to continue my report."
"The report can be given another day," Yue Qingyuan says. "You should go take a rest now."
Could he be anymore overbearing? He's more like my mother than a sect leader. Shen Qingqiu knows he can't convince hi m , so he resigns himself to sleep that he doesn't really need. If he wakes up after his nap feeling slightly better, Yue Qingyuan doesn't need to know about it.
-
The second time it happens, he experiences a dizzy spell while standing up and Mu Qingfang reaches for him so quickly he's a blur. "Shen-Shixiong, please sit back down."
Shen Qingqiu slumps on to his chair, blinking rapidly to regain his bearings. Gentle fingers touch his wrist, reading his pulse. He doesn't bother to object, far too occupied with clear ing his vision.
"Zhangmen-Shixiong told me about your coughing," Mu Qingfang tells him in a quiet voice.
Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes mentally, because of course he did. His business is never just his business on this mountain.
Mu Qingfang seems to read his mind. "He only cares about your health." His fingers leave his wrist. "Not too bad. I will escort Shixiong to his bed and bring some medicine over later."
Escort? This was getting ridiculous, it was a dizzy spell, not a fatal injury! "I can walk back myself," he says.
The doctor follows him anyway, well-accustomed to patients like Shen Qingqiu who never seem to listen. Mu Qingfang tucks him into bed and feeds him medicine like he's a child. Shen Qingqiu chooses not to say anything; the Qian Cao Peak Lord is probably the most rational and reasonable out of all twelve, so he decides he owes him a reduced amount of resistance. And perhaps it fe el s nice, to be cared for in this way. Mu Qingfang's hands are warm, and so unlike the cold skin of the nurses that used to tend to him. The thought brings him some comfort.
-
The third time it happens, his legs decide they've had enough and give way while walking with the Bai Zhan Peak Lord, which results in him tumbling to the ground as sophisticatedly as he can possibly manage. Liu Qingge stares at him. "What's wrong with you?" he asks, words elegant as ever.
"I just decided to sit on the ground for a while," Shen Qingqiu jokes.
Liu Qingge crouches down to his level. "Do you feel faint?"
Shen Qingqiu shakes his head. " It will pass in a few minutes . "
Liu Qingge's eyebrows draw together unnoticeably. "I'll carry you to the infirmary."
Shen Qingqiu holds his palm up. "No need, I will just go home."
Liu Qingge shrugs. "Okay, I'll carry you home."
That's not what I meant! "I am fully capable of walking."
"It doesn't look that way," Liu Qingge says.
Shen Qingqiu scoffs. Who exactly is the Shixiong here?
Liu Qingge stands back up and crosses his arms. "Fine. Stand up yourself then."
The second Shen Qingqiu places his foot on the ground and pushes up on it, he regrets it. His knee immediately caves and he collapses again. Liu Qingge catches him before he can ungracefully faceplant, and heaves him up into his arms effortlessly. Show-off.
Shen Qingqiu thinks that if Proud Immortal Demon Way were a sitcom instead, this would be the scene he stares straight into the camera with a deadpan look, because his Shidi is princess-carrying him! He desperately wants to extracted from the situation, but there's nothing he can do except try to ignore the fact that his face has never been this close to Liu Qingge's.
Shen Qingqiu is laid on his bed with a degree of care he didn't know Liu Qingge was even capable of. He finds it surprisingly pleasant to see this mellow, subdued side of the usually hot-headed man. He thinks that perhaps it would be nice to see it again.
-
The fourth time, he is seated with the three other peak lords when a rude twinge of pain rises in his chest and the cup of tea slips from between his fingers. At this point, he is really getting sick of these sudden displays of weakness. Couldn't they at least give a warning?
Yue Qingyuan and Mu Qingfang startle to their feet immediately. "Is Shidi okay?" Yue Qingyuan asks worriedly. Mu Qingfang reaches for his hand. "Did the tea scald you?" Liu Qingge merely raises an eyebrow from the other side of the table.
Shen Qingqiu draws his arm back. The tea had been lukewarm anyway. "I am all right. Sorry to interrupt."
"May I take Shixiong's pulse?" Mu Qingfan g asks.
Shen Qingqiu pulls his sleeve over his hand. "That is unnecessary."
"If you are fine, then let your pulse be taken," Liu Qingge interjects.
Shen Qingqiu shoots him a look, then outstretches his arm in defiance. Mu Qingfang's fingers press softly against his wrist, then his eyes widen slightly. "Qingqiu-Shixiong should have told us he wasn't feeling well, then we wouldn't have troubled you to meet up."
"I am perfectly fine," Shen Qingqiu reassures. Then, a stream of qi starts flowing into him and he nearly keels over from how good it feels. Okay, maybe he wasn't doing too well.
Yue Qingyuan supports him to bed. "Rest, we will be here."
Shen Qingqiu gives a pained smile. "You really don't have to."
"Don't worry, sleep," Yue Qingyuan replies.
Shen Yuan gives up, not so much because he can't win one against three, but more because it feels like the exhaustion finally decided to make itself known, and it drags him to sleep without his permission.
He wakes up hours later to find the God of War mediating silently in his room a few metres away . When he makes a small movement, Liu Qingge immediately opens his eyes. "You're up."
Shen Qingqiu responds with a small hum of affirmation. He pushes himself up to sit in bed, and hates that it seems to exert him when it shouldn't at all. A particularly long attack this time, but it wasn't something he was a stranger to .
Liu Qingge wordlessly walks over and takes his pulse, his hold uncharacteristically soft. His fingers remain still for a few moments before they begin to deliver a stream of qi. Shen Qingqiu doesn't have the energy to protest, and so a comfortable silence settles upon them. He doesn't register falling back asleep and his head being lowered onto the pillow. He has a vague thought about how if he had had people like this in his original life, then perhaps he wouldn't have hated being sick that much. He decides that this isn't too bad, and maybe it was something he could get used to.