Chapter Text
Liu Qingge eyed the entrance to the shrine with wariness and resolve. The stone opening was crumbling and covered in moss. It looked old and abandoned. This wasn’t a good sign given why Liu Qingge was here, but he wouldn’t let it deter him.
He’d chased several dozen leads by now, all of which he saw to completion, and he wouldn’t let this one be any different. Especially given how difficult this location was to find.
Not only was this shrine located in a secret realm, but it was only accessible when the large tree that housed its entrance was hit with light from a full moon. And even then, it wasn’t visible to the untrained mortal eye. Hell, even a full-fledged cultivator would struggle to know where to look, not to mention how to safely enter.
Liu Qingge, after hearing rumors about the shrine and the supposed power it contained, had sent a message off to Yue Qingyuan before beginning his search. He had needed both his honed cultivation and survival skills to find the door. He had waited for the full moon, then pushed and pulled the ambient qi around until he’d narrowed the location due to a qi dead-spot. Then, with years of night hunting experience under his belt, he’d been able to find the one tree that didn’t fit in.
It was a little too perfect. Too symmetrical, though easy to dismiss if you didn’t know what to look for.
Liu Qingge may not be known for his intellect, but this was his domain. The wilderness with all its beasts and rugged terrain. He knew which plants were edible and how to track prey undetected. He knew how to pick up the smallest hint of life, and thus he knew the discrepancy between this hidden doorway and the thousands of similar trees surrounding it.
Entering a secret realm was typically more difficult than locating one, but that hadn’t been the case here. No, Liu Qingge had simply lifted a hand to the symmetrical tree and had been granted access, leaving him to easily walk inside and down a path all the way to the aforementioned shrine.
Well, if the rumors surrounding this shrine were to be believed, and it truly housed the famed Wishing Stone, then entering the secret realm was the simple part. Although Liu Qingge was confident he met the requirements demanded by the hidden relic.
The Wishing Stone, a long lost artifact thought to be mere myth, was told to only fulfill the most righteous of wishes. Wishes made with pure intention, and by someone prepared to make a sacrifice in exchange for said wish.
Now, don’t get Liu Qingge wrong, he thought the whole thing sounded like a stupid hoax. He was the Bai Zhan Peak Lord, a man who believed in achieving one’s goals through hard work and rigorous self-improvement. If there was a problem, it should be solved through one’s efforts, not a mindless prayer.
However, to Liu Qingge’s endless frustration, his goal couldn’t be fulfilled through hard work alone.
His spiritual energy wasn’t enough. The dozens of “miracle cure” plants and rare beast components he’d collected weren’t enough. His interrogations of specialized healers wasn’t enough. Various healing elixirs and relics he sought and fought to attain weren’t enough. Nothing was enough.
Liu Qingge, no matter what he seemed to try, wasn’t enough.
So here he was, searching for a Wishing Stone of all things. An artifact with no reliable sources or history of success. A demonic artifact at that, which he would usually rule out on principle, but sounded too promising to discount. If it worked he was still determined to try.
If this Wishing Stone could cure Without A Cure, then Liu Qingge would gladly wish again and again to some rock hidden in a secret realm, demonic origin or not.
Without a Cure, that accursed poison that seemed determined to live up to its name. Of all the regrets in his life, not showing up mere minutes sooner during the demonic invasion on Cang Qiong was the biggest one. He could have prevented this whole thing.
He could have protected Shen Qingqiu.
Shen Qingqiu, who now chatted and joked with Liu Qingge like it was second nature. Like they had never been enemies from the moment they had first met. Like he cared about Liu Qingge and all those around him.
Shen Qingqiu, who made Liu Qingge’s heart beat like he was facing a horde of Mammoth-Toothed Dragons with a single smile. Who sought Liu Qingge out after long night hunts to pester Liu Qingge over his well-being and listen to a recounting of the trip. Who made Liu Qingge tea, and had taken to stocking Liu Qingge’s favourite kind.
Shen Qingqiu, who had so solidly cemented himself as an irreplaceable presence at Liu Qingge’s side. Who had become someone Liu Qingge couldn’t imagine himself without. Who had become the person Liu Qingge wanted to protect above all else
Shen Qingqiu, who suffered needlessly now from a poison Liu Qingge could have protected him from. Who expressed gratitude when Liu Qingge cleared his meridians, even if that would only manage Without A Cure’s symptoms. Who played off his pain and weakness with an effortlessness that spoke to decades of practice. Who never spoke of how the poison would prevent him from ascending with the rest of the Peak Lords, or make any further progress in the cultivation he had dedicated his life to.
The same Shen Qingqiu that Liu Qingge had devoted himself to, to whom Liu Qingge owed his life. And to whom Liu Qingge willingly gave his heart.
The same Shen Qingqiu who, ever since the Immortal Alliance Conference, no longer smiled. Who spent days at the sword mound of a lost disciple. Who refused to eat unless Liu Qingge brought him food personally. Who barely moved unless Liu Qingge dragged him out on a mission.
Seeing Shen Qingqiu this way hurt far more than any physical wound Liu Qingge had ever received, not to mention how helpless he felt not being able to do anything about it. It was actually Shen Qingqiu who had to tell him that “it wasn’t such a big deal” and that Shen Qingqiu had “lived with worse”, which didn’t ease Liu Qingge’s mind in the slightest!
Prior to the Immortal Alliance conference, Liu Qingge had already been searching for potential remedies for Shen Qingqiu’s affliction, but with Shen Qingqiu hurting so much in this new way that Liu Qingge was even less equipped to handle than Without A Cure, it became an even higher priority.
When Liu Qingge wasn’t checking in after Shen Qingqiu, or performing his sect duties, he was hunting for the latest rumoured cure. His sect siblings were helping as well, as they were usually the ones to supply the rumours of cures to him, but it was Liu Qingge who would hunt the mentioned items down.
Liu Qingge might not be able to revive Shen Qingqiu’s lost disciple (he would wish for this instead, but even a wishing relic wouldn’t be able to revive the dead), but if he could at least relieve Shen Qingqiu of the burden of Without a Cure, then hopefully Shen Qingqiu could start to heal.
Maybe, Shen Qingqiu would even smile again.
That would make any blood and sweat Liu Qingee shed on these missions more than worth it.
He reminded himself of this as he stomped through the stone gate and into the crumbling shrine. There was red moss on the stone walls, and carvings that looked almost like eyeballs on some of the pillars littering the space.
Tree roots broke through parts of the stone floor, which only added more cracks to the already uneven ground.
In the center of the room, atop the only structure not weathered and cracked, was a smooth dull blue stone. It sat perfectly still atop the flat surface despite its curvature. The stone came to about Liu Qingge’s eye level, and appeared about the size of Liu Qingge’s fist.
As Liu Qingge approached the stone, a faint demonic energy began to leak from the blue sphere. It didn’t feel malevolent or bloodthirsty the way demons often did, but it still made Liu Qingge’s hackles raise instinctively.
He’d known that this was a demonic relic beforehand, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He was just here to check for anything that could help Shen Qingqiu. If that thing happened to be a demonic relic, then this one time Liu Qingge would allow it.
When Liu Qingge drew close enough, the orb started glowing a deep blue.
Liu Qingge maintained a reasonable distance from the orb as he contemplated what to do. The hand holding his sword twitched in its desire to just slice the item in half, but that probably wouldn’t get him anywhere.
Should he… touch the stone? Talk to it? Feed it spiritual energy?
Liu Qingge suddenly regretted not asking more questions about how this relic was supposedly meant to grant wishes.
“A requestor appears before this one,” a monotone female voice echoed throughout the shrine, clearly centered at the stone. Or perhaps the voice echoed only in Liu Qingge’s head. It was hard to tell. “And a cultivator at that.”
The grip on Liu Qingge’s sword did not ease, though he did not startle at the stone’s ability to speak.
“You are the Wishing Stone? Granter of wishes deemed righteous?” Liu Qingge asked, eyeing the sphere warily.
He also eyed the rest of the area for signs of movement. He was not so naive as to discount this being a trap. Secret Realms were notoriously tricky. Everything in the surroundings remained stagnant, with only the vibrations coming from the stone indicating anything of note.
“This one has been known as such, yes. This one will judge the righteousness of your request, and whether the offered price you present is sufficient as payment,” the stone confirmed.
That was also in line with what Liu Qingge had heard.
Luckily he was prepared for such a thing.
Reaching into his qiankun pouch, Liu Qingge retrieved a plethora of items.
The spleen of a Platinum Crested Crocodile, said to grant even mortals immortality when consumed. An ancient spiritual axe, said to have been wielded by one of the founders of Cang Qiong Mountain. The Liu family crest pendant, a priceless family heirloom possessing generations of spiritual energy from Liu Qingge’s ancestors.
He had more, far more than that. And if necessary, there were… other options Liu Qingge had considered as well. But he wouldn’t consider those without trying to barter with these first.
“This Liu Qingge has come prepared,” Liu Qingge stated.
The vibrations coming for the stone calmed somewhat for a moment.
“Then state your request, cultivator,” the voice echoed.
Liu Qingge straightened up further.
“This one comes seeking a cure for the poison referred to as Without a Cure,” Liu Qingge said. “If this is not within your abilities, say so now.”
“It is within this one’s abilities, yes.”
The answer made Liu Qingge freeze up for a moment.
Could he… have actually found what he had been seeking? It felt too good to be true. After dozens and dozens of fruitless missions, his efforts might actually bear fruit.
He couldn’t get his hopes up quite yet though.
“You claim that curing your illness is a righteous request?” the stone asked, voice morphing from monotone to something vaguely mocking.
“The poison is not mine, but belongs instead to a kind and virtuous soul. A man much too self-sacrificing, who cares far too much for those under his care. There is no one more deserving of this wish.”
If a decade’s younger Liu Qingge had heard this description of Shen Qingqiu, he would have thought it a joke. But the Liu Qingge of today felt confident in his words.
A stillness fell over the shrine.
Liu Qingge could almost imagine a face contemplating the request, leaving Liu Qingge in suspense as he waited as patiently as he could manage.
The chill of demonic energy was becoming steadily stronger, making Liu Qingge grit his teeth. Logic and past experience screamed at him to slice the stone in two. Demons couldn’t be trusted, and neither should their relics.
But for a demonic poison, perhaps only something equally demonic could be the cure.
Liu Qingge bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to stay calm, despite the agitation scratching at his neck.
“What are you willing to offer in exchange for the cure?” the voice finally asked.
“This one has brought items of different worldly values, all which I will forfeit,” Liu Qingge stated boldly, gesturing to the pile of items, hoping the stone had some kind of ability to see or sense his offerings. He paused another moment after that before continuing. “And if those are not sufficient, then I offer my own health. I offer to take the poison in Shen Qingqiu’s stead.”
It was simultaneously the easiest and most difficult proclamation Liu Qingge had ever made, and something he had spent many a night considering.
His whole life, Liu Qingge’s cultivation had been everything to him. His goals, his very being, his place in this world, they were all centered around his strength and cultivation.
But what was his cultivation compared to his life? A life he already owed to Shen Qingqiu.
What was the strength of his cultivation compared to Shen Qingqiu’s happiness?
Besides, Liu Qingge wouldn’t lose his cultivation completely. It would simply be a hindrance to him. An extra challenge to overcome. And Liu Qingge would never turn down a challenge.
Most would consider Liu Qingge a man who jumped into action and only considered consequences later, and many times they would be correct in this assumption. But what was there to contemplate when the possibility of earning a real and true smile from Shen Qingqiu was on the line?
To Liu Qingge, the value of Shen Qingqiu’s happiness was priceless, so what math was there left to do in finding something of similar value?
“Interesting,” the stone commented coolly. “The requestor’s proposal is worth considering.”
However, as much as Liu Qingge was certain of what he was willing to lose, he also needed certainty that he was not going to be tricked.
“First though, I need proof that you can do as you claim,” Liu Qingge demanded. “I will not be played a fool by demonic tricks.”
The blue emitting from the stone became darker at the words.
“Demonic tricks?” the stone repeated. “The requestor abhors those of demonic nature, despite making a request of this one?”
While the stone’s voice continued to sound mostly monotone, there was an eeriness to it now.
“Of course I do, demons are nothing but beasts,” Liu Qingge said, thinking about the demons who had poisoned Shen Qingqiu. “But I put aside my pride as a cultivator as I make this request of you.”
“Pride, hmm?” The stone vibrated differently this time, almost like it was laughing.
Liu Qingge had honed his instincts against danger long ago. He could sense when an enemy was about to strike. He could tell the difference between bloodlust and wariness.
What he felt from the stone wasn’t bloodlust, nor did it feel like the orb was planning an attack, but instead like it was an opponent sizing him up.
Liu Qingge didn’t like it.
“Would you sacrifice that same cultivator’s pride for the cure?” The stone asked, the words sliding over Liu Qingge’s brain like silk. It made him shiver.
He shifted Cheng Luan to grip it with both hands.
“Of course I would,” Liu Qingge replied.
He was already here, asking a demonic entity for assistance. Was that not proof enough?
The ground rumbled, as if the stone and even the shrine itself were purring.
The stone began to spin, starting slowly, but picking up speed. At the same time, the carved eyes that littered the surroundings began to glow dimly.
“Then the agreement is settled. The offered price is found to be sufficient, and the requestor’s wish shall be granted,” the Wishing Stone declared loudly.
Wait, what?
“Stop, nothing has been decided. You have not convinced me of your powers and honesty yet!” Liu Qingge argued, pointing his sword at the now rapidly spinning stone.
“Offer your blood, requestor, and your wish will be granted,” the stone replied, ignoring Liu Qingge’s protests.
Demonic energy flowed readily out of the stone in a suffocating amount. The stone kept spinning, but was now floating just above the pillar that it had previously sat upon it.
Liu Qingge gritted his teeth, gripping his weapon but hesitated to attack.
The stone promised a cure in exchange for something intangible like pride? It made no sense to Liu Qingge.
But the promise could just as easily be a trap.
He wanted to smash the stone into tiny pieces, to rid this place of the demonic item and the dark energies it spewed. At the same time he didn’t want to squander his chance at finally helping Shen Qingqiu.
The man’s teasing smile came to mind. The way he would poke Liu Qingge under the table during meetings and then wink at him like they were sharing some secret moment. The flowing movements he used when sparring Liu Qingge, graceful enough to be distracting if Liu Qingge wasn’t careful.
This could be the cure. This could be the only cure.
The wind around Liu Qingge began blowing his robes around, generated by the now violently spinning stone glowing an almost blinding amount. Liu Qingge could taste the demonic energy on his tongue now. It weighed on his shoulders like a pair of hands.
Like Shen Qingqiu’s hands when he guided Liu Qingge to his house for tea.
Liu Qingge looked down at his feet for a moment, then back up at the threatening object in the air. An object he knew so little about. One that promised so much, but with so little proof. If only Liu Qingge could take it back to Cang Qiong for examination. Surely someone there would have been able to assess its validity. Someone smart enough to know what the right answer was.
Hell, even Shen Qingqiu and his strange knowledge of beasts and relics might be able to confirm its abilities
Unfortunately that didn’t appear to be a possibility.
This stone could provide the cure. But Liu Qingge couldn’t trust a demonic artifact that had done nothing to dissuade his reservations.
Shen Qingqiu… I’m sorry.
He’d find something else. A different method to cure Without a Cure. A different way to soothe the pain Shen Qingqiu was going through.
Narrowing his eyes, Liu Qingge swung Cheng Luan at the center of the orb. With any regular object, the slash would have cleanly cleaved it in two, but the Wishing Stone was sturdier than it looked.
Cheng Luan hit the stone firmly, but instead of the relic separating in two and falling to the ground, the stone only chipped as Cheng Luan bounced off its surface.
Then, before Liu Qingge could aim his next blow, the stone did something even more unexpected.
It shattered explosively, shards flying in every direction in an almost purposeful manner. Liu Qingge deflected the majority of the shards with his sword, though the unpredictability of the trajectories made it impossible to block them all. One shard cut the hand wielding Cheng Luan, while another ripped his pant leg.
Something was wrong. The chip Liu Qingge had inflicted on the stone should not have caused it to explode in this manner. Especially as delayed as it was.
Liu Qingge eyed the way the glowing eye carvings changed from blue to red, as did the shards of the Wishing Stone scattered upon the ground.
The next words from the stone shook the shrine and cemented the sinking feeling in Liu Qingge’s gut.
“The blood has been offered. The requestor’s wish will be granted and the price will be paid,” the stone’s voice echoed so loudly that Liu Qingge nearly had to cover his ears. “The cure to Without a Cure will be bestowed to the requestor, in exchange for his cultivator’s pride.”
Blood? He hadn’t offered his blood?
With a single glance to his hand, Liu Qingge noted how the cut where the shard had sliced him was indeed bleeding. What a foul trick. Liu Qingge growled in frustration at the turn of events. He took up his battle stance, unsure what was going to happen next.
What could the Wishing Stone possibly mean by taking his “cultivator’s pride”? Did it plan to summon something and make him face a humiliating defeat?
Liu Qingge would love to see the stone try.
However, while Liu Qingge was prepared for an enemy of some kind, he was not prepared for what actually happened.
One second, he stood firmly, sword in hand, channeling his spiritual energy evenly throughout his body. The next, his spiritual veins started burning like they had erupted into flames.
Liu Qingge screamed.
It felt like someone had poured molten lava into his meridians. Like every nerve in his body was being electrocuted. He staggered once, before dropping to his hands and knees.
No part of his being was spared. He felt every crack in his veins, like splintering bone piercing him endlessly. The sheer agony of it made his vision blur and more screams were pulled from his throat.
He was someone used to physical pain, and was adept at fighting through it. Broken bones and bleeding gashes were all in a day’s work for Liu Qingge. He was a physical cultivator who had been trained to tear his body down and rebuild it again and again to become stronger.
This was nothing like that. This agony from within was more akin to his deadly qi deviation, but somehow even more brutal. It made him want to scratch the skin off his body, to feel a more concrete form of pain instead of the constant burning. The constant cracking and shattering.
The worst came when the burning solidified at his core. The one he had trained and honed for years. Now it felt like it was burning away slowly and without mercy. No attempts at channeling qi amounted to anything, it only burned him away from the inside faster.
It was like he was being rebuilt. Like he was a sword being dipped in the fires of a blacksmith, to be melted down and reshaped into something new.
Or maybe just burning until he was empty inside. Until he was hollow.
Liu Qingge struggled to move. He tried once, twice, to do anything other than fold into himself at the unending and unrelenting pain that twisted through his every atom.
His mind felt like it was shattering as well, unable to think of anything besides the feeling of agony. There was no space to contemplate how this mission had gone so wrong, or to consider the consequences of him falling here.
Aside from the pure pain invading his every pore, only one singular thought managed to break through the sea of burning before everything became too much. Liu Qingge, for only a split second, hoped that if nothing else the stone would keep its word about curing Shen Qingqiu. Then, all this pain and agony wouldn’t be for nothing.
That was the last thought Liu Qingge managed, before the pain pushed him to his limit, and everything faded to black.
***
Disorientation and an aching body greeted Liu Qingge when he finally awoke.
His body hurt all over, from his fingertips to his toes. Hell, even his teeth ached. His head pounded and he felt scraped raw. His stinging throat reminded him of the screaming he’d been doing.
He could catalogue injuries later though. First he needed to get up and assess the situation. As far as he knew, he was still in enemy territory. And alone in a secret realm at that.
Opening his eyes took an ungodly amount of effort, but with a couple of deep breaths Liu Qingge managed. After a few moments where his blurry vision slowly settled, Liu Qingge could at least confirm that he was still in the shrine.
The same cracked stone ground greeted his gaze, as did the walls and pillars of the area. There was no more eerie glowing or spinning Wishing Stone. In fact, there was no stone to be seen whatsoever. The pillar that had previously held the demonic relic was nowhere to be seen either. Now the space was empty.
With monumental effort, Liu Qingge pushed himself to his knees and then up to standing. He swayed on his feet a couple of times, before stumbling to the nearest wall and using it to steady himself.
“That scheming stone,” Liu Qingge cursed under his breath.
Well, Liu Qingge was still alive, so if the Wishing Stone’s plan had been to kill him then it had failed.
Another failed mission irked him, but it wasn’t the end of the world. Liu Qingge just needed a little time to catch his breath and then he would return to the sect. He could report his findings, and they could create a notice informing others not to seek the Wishing Stone in the future.
Liu Qingge could check in on Shen Qingqiu as well. He flushed a little at how strong his desire to see him was.
Well, the sooner Liu Qingge balanced and recuperated, the sooner he could return home.
With an inhale through his nose, Liu Qingge tried to gather spiritual energy in his core, intending to cycle his meridians.
Unfortunately, that was when Liu Qingge noticed that something was horribly and irrevocably wrong.
Reaching into himself, there were… no spiritual veins whatsoever. No core either, or at least nothing familiar to him.
“What,” Liu Qingge inhaled sharply.
He tried again, this time to reach for any trace of spiritual energy.
Nothing. There was nothing there. Well perhaps, that wasn’t right. Replacing the spiritual veins Liu Qingge had harnessed and built for decades, was something completely different. A chaotic kind of energy that seemed to flow almost uncontrollably. There were no clear paths for energy to travel, just a battlefield within himself.
This couldn’t be happening. The Wishing Stone couldn’t have just destroyed his cultivation. Impossible. He refused to believe it.
Disbelief gave way to fear, and then finally to anger. And the more angry he felt, the stronger the energies within him became. The energy started to feel hot, making him feel almost itchy.
Searching around the clearing for any sort of clue for what had happened, Liu Qingge eventually spotted Cheng Luan’s glittering blade amid some overgrown roots. Trying to ignore the foreign energies on the verge of leaking out of him, Liu Qingge stumbled over to the blade.
But as he approached, what he saw made him feel near sick enough to empty his stomach on the stone ground. From afar, Cheng Luan had appeared normal, but Liu Qingge was now close enough to fully see it.
Shattered. Cheng Luan lay there, almost like a puzzle that was close to completion, in hundreds of pieces resembling the shape of his sword and companion.
Liu Qingge dropped to his knees.
“How did this…” the words fell from his mouth.
It shouldn’t be possible. Liu Qingge was still alive, so how had his spiritual blade shattered like this? He knew Cheng Luan as well as he knew himself, and he knew how strong it was. This was wrong. This was a nightmare. He wanted to scream all over again.
With a shaking hand, Liu Qingge reached for a piece of the shattered sword. As he did, he noticed yet another detail he hadn’t before.
The hand reaching toward the remnants of Cheng Luan, his hand, was adorned with sharp black claws.
Liu Qingge felt his mouth hang open, felt his hand grow even shakier as he lifted a piece of his spiritual sword up. He gazed at the broken piece of his most trusted companion and caught a reflection in the glittering sheen of the blade.
What he saw made him drop the shard.
No.
No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!
This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t possible.
The despair flowing through Liu Qingge was the final push the energies inside him needed to start leaking, emitting from him like a cruel confirmation of what he had seen.
Before the energy that flowed out of him was demonic energy.
Just as the face that had greeted him in the reflection of his destroyed sword was that of a demon. He had looked the same for the most part, sure, but the huadian atop his forehead, alongside pointed ears and sharp teeth were confirmation enough.
A demon. The Wishing Stone had turned him into a demon.
A choked off sob left his lips. When Liu Qingge buried his face in his hands in an attempt to breathe, he could once again feel those dreadful claws dig into his face.
Would you sacrifice that same cultivator’s pride for the cure?
A humourless laugh left Liu Qingge’s mouth next. Was that what the Wishing Stone had meant by “cultivator’s pride”? It had meant Liu Qingge would become what all cultivators despised more than anything else? What a cruel trick. As to be expected of a demon.
…a demon like him.
But, if Liu Qingge had paid the price, does that mean Shen Qingqiu was cured? Had the stone at least fulfilled its end of the bargain?
Then it hit him. Liu Qingge would never know. Because he couldn’t return to Cang Qiong. Not like this.
Though unintentionally, he had become a demon. There was no place for him in a cultivation sect. If he attempted to return, would anyone believe it was him? He wasn’t sure if he would believe it in their shoes.
Even if his sect siblings were sympathetic to his situation and granted him sanctuary, then Cang Qiong would be found guilty of harbouring a demon. A danger to the cultivation world. And Liu Qingge would be dangerous. With no idea how to contain his energies or what this particular demon body could do, who knows if he would even maintain his sanity?
Once again a flash of anger and despair made his blood boil and energies surge.
The walls around him were beginning to crack and crumble with the sheer amount of demonic energy pumping out of him. Liu Qingge moved his hands from his face and clenched his fists in an attempt to steady himself, to reach any sort of calm to steady the storm inside of him.
All he really managed to do was cut his own hands with his claws.
Liu Qingge looked down at the blood now on his hands, watching it steadily leak from the holes he’d made. He felt a weird pull from the blood. Like it was connected to him like a tendon. Even when the wounds closed up much too quickly, quicker than they had with his cultivation, he could still feel the blood.
Another disgusting demonic trait. One he didn’t have the mental capacity to focus on.
Not when he felt so… lost.
What could he possibly do now? He’d lost his cultivation, his home, his family, his life.
The fan in his sleeve suddenly felt heavy. In this quest, he’d somehow also lost Shen Qingqiu.
Maybe it was too soon to give into despair. If a demonic relic could transform him into a demon, then surely another could transform him back? There must be a solution. Whether it took a month or years, Liu Qingge was determined enough to find it.
Surely that would be his next course of action. To undo this curse.
Soon, Liu Qingge would depart this Secret Realm and take up his search. Soon he would pick up every piece of his shattered sword and carry it until the day that he could wield it again. Soon he would reign in his energies and focus on how to properly wield them.
But not right away. For just a minute or two, Liu Qingge continued to sit there, letting himself be consumed by his aching body and his burdened heart.
Let himself feel the pain of what he had lost and the monster he had become.
He let himself apologize to Cang Qiong, for the burden of leaving them for however long it took to fix this mistake. To feel guilt over not saying goodbye to Mingyan before leaving on this expedition.
He let his aching heart think of Shen Qingqiu, praying that this had at least cured him of one of his burdens. That, even if Liu Qingge wasn’t there to see it, it would have helped.
He let himself feel all these things for a while, he wasn’t sure how long. Then, with a deep inhale, he refocused on his new goal.
Pushing himself to his feet was still hard this time around. It still felt unnatural and wrong.
But Liu Qingge didn’t want to sit around any longer.
He had a new mission, and it was one that he couldn’t afford to fail.