Work Text:
It began with a soft crackle, the kind that usually preceded a sect-wide announcement or emergency broadcast. The Peak Lords, scattered across their respective mountains, glanced toward their communication talismans in unison. They were all expecting a mundane update, perhaps an alert about spiritual beast sightings or another reminder from An Ding Peak about budgeting deadlines or some order by their sect leader.
Instead, a familiar voice, low and edged with bitter restraint, filtered through. It was Shen Qingqiu. Followed by another voice, which was unmistakably Yue Qingyuan’s. It sounded serious, slightly panicked, and very urgent.
It took only a few clipped, barbed exchanges for realization to dawn: they were listening to a private conversation. Or rather, what should have been private. A beat of stunned silence fell across the sect’s leadership as the implications settled in. Someone, very likely Shen Qingqiu, had mistakenly used the communal communication talisman instead of the private one.
The ten Peak Lords (except the two who were the main topic) then gathered together to gossip. They sat in an empty meeting hall with an awkward feeling that came with eavesdropping on their two martial sibling, but were unwilling to let this first-rate gossip go. As they sat frozen, ears glued to the open channel, each caught somewhere between horror, fascination, and the dawning sense that this was going to be far more entertaining than spiritual beast reports.
The entire exchange revealed a side of both men they had never witnessed. For a moment, the Peak Lords sat in stunned silence, collectively realizing just how little they truly understood the two figures at their sect’s center.
*
There was a lot of static. Then.
“can-… he-... i-… Can you hear me?” came Shen Qingqiu’s voice, crackling at first, and then steadying as the connection stabilized.
“Ah! Yes! I can hear you,” Yue Qingyuan’s voice followed quickly, breathless with alarm. “Heavens, I was worried sick. What happened? The line cut off so abruptly. I thought-”
“Oh. No, nothing happened,” Shen Qingqiu replied, far too casually. “I don’t know why it stopped working. It’s dark in here, and it took me a moment to find the talisman again.”
“How unfortunate,” Yue Qingyuan said, and his voice was... off. Strained, clipped, bitter. Almost sarcastic. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d listened to me and refrained from throwing yourself into every dark, cursed crevice Jianghu has to offer.”
Yue Qingyuan’s voice was unusually sharp, taut with restrained fury. Shen Qingqiu didn’t rise to the bait. He merely gave a soft scoff and moved on, clearly used to this particular lecture; Yue Qingyuan must have said it before.
For the first time in decades, the entire Cang Qiong Sect’s core leadership had gone silent, very invested in listening to the drama.
Then came Shen Qingqiu’s voice, low, dry, and shockingly not combative. Unbothered by Yue Qingyuan’s slight, Shen Qingqiu continued, “Anyway, I think I’ll move in a little further. I might find-”
“No!” Yue Qingyuan interrupted, suddenly sharp, with a commanding tone that made it seem like the talisman itself flinched. It held a rare assertive quality, which was uncommon for their gentle sect leader. “Stay exactly where you are and do not move,” he ordered.
It was an order. Firm, clear, brooking no argument.
Of course, Shen Qingqiu tried to argue anyway.
“I am not going far. Just around that corner-“
“Qingqiu.” Yue Qingyuan growled (honest to god! Growled.) his voice low and dangerous now, “If you so much as dare move an inch, I swear I am going to break your legs myself.”
There was a stunned silence among the peak lords, their mouths suddenly dry. They all blinked at their talismans in disbelief. Several mouths fell open.
Was that Yue Qingyuan? Their Yue Qingyuan? The kind, ever-gentle, serene-as-moonlight Sect Leader?
Apparently, yes.
‘Was there a problem with the talisman?’ Thought the gathered peak lords. Because surely, their Sect Leader didn’t sound like that, commanding, impatient… scary.
Yue Qingyuan losing his calm? Unthinkable! And yet they were all witnesses.
Shen Qingqiu, for his part, sounded completely unimpressed. He simply huffed in response, almost mocking. When he spoke, they could almost feel the eye roll in his voice.
“Fine.” He murmured, sulking. The irritation in his voice practically radiated through the talisman. Then, there was a beat of silence. After that, Shen Qingqiu spoke in the same displeased tone of a petulant child who got banned from doing something cool but dangerous by an adult.
“Do you know how unreasonable you are being? I-“
He was once again cut off by Yue Qingyuan, who seemed to have finally lost his patience.
“I am being unreasonable? Me?” he snapped. His voice rose, tinged with incredulity. He took a deep breath in a manner that indicated that someone was in for a lengthy lecture.
Yue Qingyuan’s voice cut through the air again, harsher now, the strain behind it undeniable.
“I asked you one thing, just one, single request, and you couldn’t even manage that! All you needed to do was to shut up, dress prettily, and lounge atop a luxurious mountain without causing any problems. Your only job was to stay put, relax, maybe strum a guqin or play pipa or do painting or write a poem or weave flower crowns. That’s it. That was the entire assignment.”
He took a breath, clearly fighting the urge to start yelling. From the other end came the unmistakable rustle of robes, the sound of someone pacing or refusing to sit still under a lecture, but then it abruptly stopped as if Shen Qingqiu had remembered the earlier order of not moving and actually complied with it.
Yue Qingyuan, then, continued more calmly than before, but pained and accusing: “And what do you do? You sneak out in the middle of the night, bypass the sect’s defenses, and leave without telling anyone. To do what? To plunge headfirst into dangerous ditches and mysterious dungeons filled with mud and blood and god-knows-what. To go play with monsters that could bite off your head, because apparently, life just isn’t thrilling enough for you atop a secure mountain.” He inhaled again. “Now tell me, who among the two of us is being unreasonable?”
Now, the overhearing peak lords grasped the situation. Yue Qingyuan was furious. Not because he was angry, but because he was scared. He was worried about Shen Qingqiu, who had recklessly placed himself in mortal danger.
Wei Qingwei whispered to the person right next to him (who was Shang Qinghua), “Are they always like this?” while Shang Qinghua, who was still glued to the corner of his talisman, did not answer.
Duan Qingze whispered, “They’re like an old married couple.”
Qi Qingqi, horrified, turned to him and muttered, “Don’t say that.” She didn’t disagree.
All the rest of the peak lords also silently agreed with Duan Qingze that they were witnessing something very close to a marital spat. And not one of them turned off their talisman.
There was a long silence after that. Shen Qingqiu did not answer. The lack of response was almost an apology, because Shen Qingqiu would never apologize in words.
This unspoken admission of guilt cooled Yue Qingyuan’s temper, too.
“If you wanted to go, you could have told me, I would have come along.” He continued more softly. “Running off on your own without backup, in an unfamiliar territory, and without telling anyone. What exactly were you thinking, A-Jiu?”
The use of that affectionate nickname set the peak lords wrong-footed. They stared at each other, confused and incredulous. Were Yue-Zhangmen and Shen-shixiong that close?
Shen Jiu’s reply came quietly and almost sullenly. “It wasn’t reckless. I had wards with me. I just didn’t think it was worth the delay to notify-”
“You didn’t think, exactly,” Yue Qingyuan interrupted, quieter now, but more dangerous for it. “You could’ve died-“
He was interrupted by Shen Qingqiu. “It wasn’t that dangerous,” he muttered, mutinously. “I had it under control.”
“You did not have it under control, case in point, you are now lost and trapped,” Yue Qingyuan retorted, and though his tone remained firm, there was something protective under the scolding, like an older brother lecturing a reckless sibling.
Across the table, the Peak Lords sat in stunned silence, the veil that had clouded their martial siblings' history was lifted for once. The cold, untouchable Shen Qinqiu wasn’t yelling. The composed, silver-tongued Sect Leader was baring his anxiety like a frayed thread. What had always seemed like a stiff professional relationship now revealed itself for what it was: it was a long-standing, tangled, and complicated mess, which no one knew what to make of.
Yue Qingyuan’s voice dropped into that low, careful tone he always used when trying not to panic.
“Now, please, just stay where you are, do not move, and, for heaven’s sake, do not do anything reckless. Wait for me, I’ll be there soon. Do not make the situation any worse, ok? I will handle everything when I arrive, so there is no need for you to try and do anything. Remember, do not touch. Do not look. Do not think. Leave the whole thing to me; I will fix it, alright?”
Qi Qingqi arched an eyebrow. “Did… did the Sect Leader just mother him?” She did not like someone telling her what to do, and the sect leader’s tone and words ticked her off. “Does he think Shen Qingqiu is a damsel in distress?” she said, displeased, folding her arms. “Next, he’ll tell him to lie on a bed of rose petals until he arrives.”
Yue Qingyuan’s words were soothing, measured, repetitive, and annoyingly gentle, as if spoken to a toddler about to eat a poisonous spirit herb off the floor, or like a lullaby meant to keep someone passive. Shen Qingqiu, predictably, did not take kindly to it.
There was a pause. Then, a sharp intake of breath.
“Oh, how comforting,” he drawled, voice thick with sarcasm. “Should I sit down and play with some wooden blocks, too, Sect Leader? Maybe take a nap while you swoop in and handle everything? Or perhaps build a sandcastle while I wait for Big Brother to come pick me up in his magical flying carriage?”
Liu Qingge barked out a short laugh. “That sounds like something he’d actually say.”
Wan Jian Peak Lord, Wei Qingwei snorted into his sleeve. Mu Qingfang raised an eyebrow. Shang Qinghua had already slid halfway under the table like he was preparing to avoid the debris from the inevitable clash (even though it was just a conversation from a talisman).
Shen Qingqiu gave a disdainful huff. “You do remember I’m a Peak Lord, a grown man and not a child you’re babysitting, don’t you?”
The silence that followed crackled with tension. Then Yue Qingyuan exhaled sharply, hard, long-suffering, tight-jawed, exhausted in a way only Shen Qingqiu could make him.
“If you don’t want to be treated like a child, then perhaps you should stop acting like one,” he said, voice taut with exasperation. “Charging off into danger without telling anyone, refusing help, and now throwing a tantrum because someone dares to worry about you?”
The room had gone still. Even Qi Qingqi had stopped sipping her tea.
Shen Qingqiu’s voice snapped back, sharper than a sword point. “Maybe if you didn’t try to coddle me like a 5-year-old, always interfering in every decision I make, always needing to have your way-”
“Oh, please, A-Jiu, I don’t have my way,” Yue Qingyuan cut in, tone dry. “If I truly had my way, I’d lock you in a room and never let you step outside.”
A collective gasp echoed through the meeting hall, now a gossip center. Several Peak Lords audibly choked. There were a few fallen jaws that the peak lords had to pick up from the floor.
“…Was that- did he say ‘lock him away’-“
“…I think our Sect Leader just accidentally proposed-” murmured Duan Qingze of Ling You Peak.
“Proposed or confessed to a kidnapping fantasy?” asked Shang Qinghua, eyes wide. “Either way, I’m taking notes.”
Lin Qingshui looked vaguely nauseated. “That's... concerning. Even for Yue Qingyuan.”
“Concerning? It’s romantic!” Ruan Qingruan sighed dreamily. “So devoted. Like a tragic husband trying to protect his tempestuous bride.”
“I think we have vastly different definitions of romance,” murmured Qi Qingqi, her brow twitching.
The conversation continued.
Back on the talisman, Shen Qingqiu’s voice rose, sharp with indignation. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing already? I haven’t set foot outside Qing Jing Peak in nearly a year, all because you keep spinning tales about how dangerous the world is-”
“And?” Yue Qingyuan shot back without missing a beat. “Wasn’t I right? The moment you stepped out, look what happened! You vanished into the wilds, and now you’re lost and alone in a cave. Tell me how I was wrong.”
Shen Qingqiu didn’t answer.
Yue Qingyuan’s voice dropped to something so quiet it almost didn’t register, even through the talisman. He let out a sigh, heavy with weariness and worry, and said. “I’m only doing this for your own safety.”
The peak lords were now having mixed feelings. Mu Qingfang rubbed his temples. “I can’t tell if this is overprotectiveness or-”
“Isn’t this technically a hostage negotiation?” someone murmured. “Except the hostage doesn’t know he’s been kidnapped.”
Qi Qingqi looked disturbed. “Should we… intervene?”
They placed their focus back on the conversation as Shen Qingqiu replied.
Shen Qingqiu scoffed. “My safety? Yue Qingyuan, I am a cultivator, not a porcelain doll! I don’t need you wrapping me in silks and tucking me behind twenty formation arrays like some precious artifact.” Shen Qingqiu shot back, sharper now, the sulky sting of pride bruised.
“You are a precious artifact,” Yue Qingyuan muttered under his breath, heard clearly by eleven other peak lords, 1 for whom it was intended and 10 other, very nosy, Peak Lords for whom it was not.
The silence was immediate and catastrophic.
Wei Qingwei let out a strangled wheeze. Qi Qingqi dropped her teacup, which had been suspended mid-sip for a long time.
Shen Qingqiu clearly heard it too.
After a while, Shen Qingqiu's voice came back, flat and unamused.
“…Did you just call me a precious artifact?”
Yue Qingyuan didn’t answer.
A very unfortunate choice, because silence is confirmation.
“Unbelievable,” Shen Qingqiu muttered. “Do you want to put me in a glass case, too? Maybe hang a little plaque underneath that says ‘do not touch, extremely volatile’?”
Yue Qingyuan murmured, exhausted. “If you’d stay where I put you for five minutes, I might consider it.”
The Peak Lords were practically falling over themselves now, some of them stifling laughter behind sleeves, others frozen in secondhand embarrassment. Shang Qinghua had given up entirely and was now fully under the table, scribbling furiously in a notebook labeled ‘Cultivator Drama: Forbidden Peak Love’.
“I’m sending this to the next storyteller’s meet,” he muttered gleefully.
Mu Qingfang looked one second away from throwing the talisman into a pond.
Meanwhile, Yue Qingyuan’s voice softened again, alarmingly velvety. Too soft. The kind of soft that made hardened generals sit up straight and regret their life choices.
“Xiao-Jiu. Stay. Where. You. Are.”
Shen Qingqiu made a sound of pure indignation, like a cat forced into water.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered. “I am fine. I found a perfectly stable rock to sit on, my robes are only slightly bloodied, and the demon beast has stopped trying to eat me… mostly.”
More silence.
“You’re bleeding?!” Yue Qingyuan’s voice went several octaves higher than it should have for someone who was thirty, a few decades ago.
Shen Qingqiu immediately backtracked. “I didn’t say I was bleeding, I said my robes look bloodied. It might be someone else’s blood. Maybe. Probably.”
Yue Qingyuan let out a sound halfway between a strangled scream and the defeated wheeze of a man who had lived too long beside Shen Qingqiu’s nonsense.
“When we get back to the sect, you are on house arrest for the foreseeable future.”
“What!?! Gege no-“ Shen Qingqiu whined.
Shen Qingqiu. Their Shen Qingqiu. Whined. Like a child. He even called someone ‘gege’.
The Peak Lords stared at one another in horror and fascination. This was officially apocalyptic.
Yue Qingyuan didn’t seem to think this was out of the ordinary; he didn’t pay any mind to the wailing child.
Shen Qingqiu had started complaining. “Oh, come on! You are acting just like Yi-jiejie,” he shouted.
“Another confirmation that I am right, jiejie was wise and always correct.”
“Jiejie also thought of herself as my mother. You are not my mother.”
“I raised you, Xiao-Jiu-”
The collective sound of mental gears jamming filled the hall. The world suddenly changed and wrapped dizzily according to this new information.
The peak lords looked at each other in unison, questions and exclamations on the tip of their tongues, ‘When did that happen?’ ‘What the hell?’ ‘Is this true?’ But they didn’t have the time to do so.
The conversation had continued.
“You didn’t,” said Shen Qingqiu, a little too quickly, sounding like he was lying, “and even if you did, you don’t get to barge in and act like I belong to you.”
“…”
“…You do.”
That was the reply. Sure. Steady. Unhesitating.
“You're still mine, A-Jiu. Even if you don’t want to be. Even if you hate me for it.” Said a deep voice.
It was a very possessive and a very direct statement.
The entire hall sat in stunned, slightly aroused (Ruan Qingruan and Shang Qinghua), extremely confused (every single peak lord) silence.
Liu Qingge looked deeply uncomfortable. “Is he- is this flirting?”
No one had an answer, because they themselves didn’t know.
“Honestly,” Ruan Qingruan mused, sipping from a wine gourd, “If it is, it’s kind of hot.”
Lin Qingshui was staring at his talisman like it had personally betrayed him.
Shang Qinghua had curled up muttering: ‘This is so bad, this is so good, but this is really so bad, but really very good’ over and over again.
Yue Qingyuan continued, more quietly now. “I have never stopped caring for you. I have never stopped worrying. You think I treat you like a child because I don’t trust you. But, I do. I trust you more than anyone else in this world.” A breath. “But every time you get hurt, I feel the pain several times over. I can’t help it. I just want you safe, warm, and happy. Always.”
Mu Qingfang frowned. “That… doesn’t sound like just concern,” he muttered.
There was a long, pregnant silence.
Then Shen Qingqiu muttered, petulantly, bitterly: “You could say it less like you’re keeping a disobedient pet on a leash.”
“I wish you were that obedient,” Yue Qingyuan replied, tone bone-dry.
“So what if I don’t obey you? I’m not yours to command,” Shen Qingqiu snapped.
“Of course not! I am not commanding you, I am begging you. Would you please listen to me, just this once?”
The desperation in Yue Qingyuan’s voice was palpable.
“Fine, fine, I said earlier I am listening to you, didn’t I?” came Shen Qingqiu’s resigned voice.
A breeze fluttered through the trees outside the hall. Somewhere in the thicket, a spiritual beast shrieked faintly, but none of the Peak Lords stirred. They were too frozen from what they were hearing.
The voice from the transmission talisman, crackling with static, was unmistakably Yue Qingyuan’s and Shen Qingqiu’s. They had checked and rechecked and rechecked again and again, and it was not a forged conversation either; they had verified. This was real.
After a lull, the conversation picked up again.
The entire hall listened as Yue-shixiong’s voice slipped into something almost indulgent, nearly affectionate, but laced with the kind of silkiness that made your skin itch.
"If you would just let me handle your affairs, A-Jiu," Yue Qingyuan said, in a sorrowful voice, like he was regretting an unfortunate outcome. “You would never have to lift a finger ever again. No worry, no danger. I could give you a life where you’d never be troubled by the outside world again. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
“Is this a seduction attempt?” Duan Qingze whispered, eyes wide. He was quickly hushed so as not to interrupt the conversation.
A long pause followed. Static hummed. Then, from the talisman, Shen Qingqiu’s voice responded, sharp as always, cutting but quieter than usual. Almost wary.
“…You want to put me in a gilded cage, Yue Qingyuan?”
“Would you prefer an iron one?” came the reply, too smooth, too gentle.
Mu Qingfang looked down at the talisman in his palm as though it had just insulted his medical ethics.
Shang Qinghua, rubbing his arms as though trying to ward off a chill, muttered. “We should never tell him that we heard this, ok? I’d like to live.”
Liu Qingge scowled. “He’s bluffing. He’s… just being dramatic. He doesn’t mean that.”
“‘Would you prefer an iron one?’” Duan Qingze repeated under his breath, his face pale. “That didn’t sound like a bluff. That sounded like a vow.”
Across the group, Peak Lords sat in uncomfortable silence.
The talisman crackled again. Another line spoken, too faint this time to catch, but followed by Shen Qingqiu’s exasperated groan.
Then, unmistakably, Yue Qingyuan’s voice came again, honey-wrapped steel:
“All I ask, A-Jiu, is that you leave the burdens of difficult decision-making to me. Is that so hard? You know I have your best interests at heart.”
Wei Qingwei’s brow twitched. “He sounds like he’s trying to adopt him.”
“Or wed him,” someone mumbled from the back. Probably Ruan Qingruan, judging by the slightly too-delighted snort.
“Both,” whispered Lin Qingshui, eyes narrowed in mathematical horror. “He’s trying to do both. Oh heavens.”
“Is this what love sounds like?” asked Xu Qingli with morbid curiosity. “I wouldn’t know.”
“No wonder Shen Qingqiu never leaves his peak,” Bai Zhan Peak Lord muttered in tones of enlightenment. “It’s not that he’s arrogant and pampered. He’s under house arrest.”
More static buzzed.
“You would never have to worry about anyone else hurting you,” Yue Qingyuan continued, soft but firm. “No one will touch you if I’m the one making the rules. I’ve already proven I can handle it, haven’t I?”
There was an unsettling pause.
“You think that’s a kindness?” Shen Qingqiu’s voice was brittle. “You think leashing me to your decisions, smothering every choice I make, is care?”
“You call it a leash,” Yue Qingyuan said softly, “but you never see the lengths I go to ensure it’s made of silk.”
Several Peak Lords stiffened. Even Liu Qingge's brow furrowed slightly.
“Are we sure this is a rescue mission and not a kidnapping?” someone muttered.
“I can make my own decisions, thank you very much,” came Shen Qingqiu’s clipped voice. Then he continued, “Besides, if I had let you make my decisions, I wouldn’t have even started cultivating. Don’t you remember you were against it?”
The peak lords for the umpteenth time today were shocked. ‘Did that happen?’ was the collective thought.
“And?” came Yue Qingyuan’s totally unrepentant voice, “I still believe I was right. Do you know how many Qi deviations you have yearly? Are you aware of the amount of danger you get into by being a cultivator? The situation you are in currently is more than enough evidence.”
“I would have never been a peak lord or have any of my achievements, I would have shriveled up and died by now-"
“You wouldn’t. I would have showered you with elixirs and enough restorative tonics that you would have lived for a long time, and very happily. And even if you wanted to cultivate, I would have figured out a technique to provide you with a golden core on a silver platter, if only you had listened to me-”
“No! That’s cheating. I refuse. I like to gain my achievements through my own efforts and not because someone handed them to me.”
“See, you always choose the hard way. If you had done what I asked, your life would be… so much easier. No more danger. No more mess. You could have had everything, comfort, peace, power, silk robes, all your favorite teas, every luxury you could ever want-”
Shang Qinghua’s jaw dropped. “He’s… he’s trying to sugar daddy Shen Qingqiu into submission!” Nobody understood what that meant, but they ignored it, too focused on what was happening.
Shen Qingqiu’s voice was audibly offended: “Oh yes, wonderful. A glorified silk-draped prison where I can rot in luxury while you hover like some lovesick jailer.”
Yue Qingyuan’s voice was unbothered: “If the cage is made of jade and your robes are embroidered with gold dragons, is it really so bad?”
Qi Qingqi sucked a breath. “That’s toxic.”
Shang Qinghua was near hysterical, feverishly whispering, “I knew it. I knew it. I didn’t want to know it, but I knew it.” He could smell the yandere on Yue Qingyuan the moment he transmigrated into this world.
“I can make the cage spin if he wants it to,” Xu Qingli offered, entirely too helpfully, and very relaxed.
“You can’t possibly expect me to act like your pampered concubine, Qi-ge,” said Shen Qingqiu, annoyed.
“Why not?” Yue Qingyuan’s voice was oddly tragic right now. “If you won't let me protect you, A-Jiu, then what good is all my power?”
There was a long pause.
“You're delusional, Yue Qingyuan. And completely out of your mind. I don't want to continue this conversation.” Shen Qingqiu finally declared, putting this whole affair in a jar and placing it on the farthest shelf in his mind.
The peak lord heaved a collective sigh of relief (except for Shang Qinghua and Ruan Qingruan, who were disappointed) for getting out of this very awkward and intimately private affair.
There was a long moment of silence.
Then, they heard Yue Qingyuan’s voice, now back to his usual. “I can see the mountain you mentioned. I think I am nearby. I will be there shortly.”
“Thank you, Sect Leader Yue,” Shen Qingqiu said, almost teasingly, as if the earlier conversation had actually never happened. “Thank you for coming to my aid. As always. With much unnecessary fanfare.”
The next sound was unmistakably Yue Qingyuan pinching the bridge of his nose. “One of these days you’ll stop being so damn difficult.”
“Unlikely,” Shen Qingqiu drawled. “I was born annoying.”
Then, the talisman pinged, and the call ended.
Ten Peak Lords stared at each other.
Finally, Liu Qingge broke the silence. “So… are we still pretending they’re just good friends?”
“No,” said Wei Qingwei. “We are pretending we didn’t hear anything.”
“Ever.” Agreed, Duan Qingze.
Liu Qingge grunted in affirmation. “I was never here.”
“I’m not even sure that was our Sect Leader,” muttered Qi Qingqi. “I think someone’s been possessed.”
“Either way,” Shang Qinghua said, flipping his notebook shut with a gleeful grin, “this better be a whole series.”
“But, really, what is their relation? Are they brothers? ... Or something else?” asked an excited Ruan Qingruan.
Liu Qingge crossed his arms. “I don’t care what kind of relationship that is. It’s not normal.”
“I think it's love,” Shang Qinghua offered dreamily. “Or blackmail. Hard to say. Either way, I support it.”
Lin Qingshui calmly offered his opinion, “That wasn’t brotherly. That was a leash.”
“That's not devotion,” muttered Qi Qingqi. “That’s obsession.”
“I will… um. I will write a formal recommendation that the Sect Leader and Shen Qingqiu get therapy.” Mu Qingfang concluded.
Then, as they were shuffling out of the hall.
“Imagine if they somehow know that we heard their conversation,” someone whispered.
There was a collective, horrified groan.