Chapter Text
Three hundred.
Shen Yuan stared blankly at the small notch he had just carved in the wall, his face feeling numb. Three hundred days.
His hair had grown out. It fell around his shoulders now, making him resemble his brother more by the day.
He avoided mirrors.
Stiltedly, Shen Yuan pulled on his patched tunic and tied away his hair in a bun. The backs of his shins ached from the day before, and he was forced to limp slightly as he pushed open the door to his room and ducked out into main hall of the servants quarters. He made his way outside and across the grass to the estate, a familiar dread sitting heavily in his stomach. It seemed to grow heavier with each step.
Shen Yuan didn’t spare a glance at the servants tending to the gardens. They were muttering quietly to themselves, but their voices cut off abruptly as they spotted him approaching. Shen Yuan could imagine the pity in their eyes as they watched him trudge toward the estate.
It made him sick.
The sun was shining brilliantly down on the house as he slid open the door and started down the familiar hallway. He knew every floorboard, had the paintings on the walls burned into his memory. He had taken this walk almost every day for the past year. He tried to look anywhere but at the door at the end of the hallway. His destination.
As Shen Yuan walked, he wondered if it would ever get easier. If the screaming anxiety would ever fade to a dull hum in the back of his mind. It had been nearly three-hundred days, and yet he still felt like he had on the very first day.
He stood before the door.
His hand trembled as he raised it and knocked gently two times.
And then he slowly entered the room.
Shen Yuan knew of pain. Qiu Jianluo made sure of it.
-
That night, he sat outside the servants quarters and carefully bandaged the freshly carved wounds on his back. He had become an expert at wrapping and cleaning his own injuries after dozens of beatings, he could usually finish in half an hour.
At first, some of the serving girls used to help him. They had each received a dozen lashes for their efforts. A few more of the servants had tried to extend small kindnesses to him, but any that were found out were punished. Shen Yuan found it was better for everyone when he ignored them, and they ignored him.
He finished wrapping the bandages and turned his face up to the full moon. It hung low in the sky, a pale, glowing orb surrounded by a halo of soft light. Its surface, mottled with craters and scars, seemed distant yet impossibly close, casting a quiet, silvery glow over the world below. The hour was late, and the grounds were silent.
Shen Yuan stayed up late most nights. The sooner he slept, the sooner morning would come. And morning meant eyes upon his back, and the agonizing walk up to the main house. And then it meant beatings.
Night was different. At night, Shen Yuan’s mind could wander back to a time when he wasn’t utterly and entirely alone. He could allow the tension to seep from his shoulders, and the scowl to drop from his face. Night didn’t scare him the way morning did. Night, for Shen Yuan, meant peace.
Quietly as he dared, Shen Yuan began to creep along the grounds of the house toward the koi pond. It was down hill from the house, closer to the forest. On nights like this, with a full and bright moon, Shen Yuan liked sit beside the pond and watch as the moon’s reflection moved across the surface. When it finally disappeared from pond, Shen Yuan would force himself to sleep.
Shen Yuan allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of wet grass on his bare feet, making his way down the side of the hill. The cuffs of his pants grew damp and he didn’t bother to pull them up.
He rounded a corner and looked up as the pond came into view, before he stopped dead in his tracks.
Illuminated in the pale moonlight stood a man clad in black.
His hands were clasped behind his back as he stared down at the fish with a sharp, wrinkled face. His eyes were dark and dangerous.
Shen Yuan’s legs felt like they were about to give. It wasn’t a person he recognized, but if someone caught him out at this hour they would think he was trying to escape. Shen Yuan knew what would happen to him then.
Silently, he turned around and moved to take a step away.
“Come here, boy.”
The man’s voice sounded like cracking ice. His volume was low, but it seemed to cut through the night like a dagger.
Shen Yuan’s legs doggedly obeyed the command, even as his body trembled. The man was several times taller than he, and Shen Yuan could now see a long sword hanging at his side.
“Are you of this house?” The man asked lightly.
Shen Yuan nodded, his eyes glued to the ground. “A slave, Gongzi.”
“I see.” A beat of silence. “Do they treat you well?”
The question caught Shen Yuan off guard, and he glanced up, startled.
The man wasn’t looking at him, but at the koi swimming in the pond. There were three of the fish, two of them brilliantly orange, and the last black as tar.
Of course, Shen Yuan should say yes. He should heap praises upon the shoulders of the Qiu family, praise the ground that they walked on, beg the man before him for forgiveness.
But Shen Yuan was so tired.
So he told the truth.
“No, Gongzi.”
“Well then,” The man smiled, and it was the most wicked thing Shen Yuan had ever seen. “How about we get to know each other a little better? This one is Wu Yanzi.”
Shen Yuan blinked. “Then… this one is Shen Yuan.”
There, beside that pond, Shen Yuan remembered what hope felt like.
—
“Sanren, at least accept this!” The old woman pleaded, holding a small paper charm towards Shen Yuan. Her hands were small and wrinkled, but they didn’t shake.
Shen Yuan, after a moment’s hesitation, accepted the gift, tucking it into his robes. “Really, it was no trouble.” He assured the old woman. Her grandson, who was wiping away tears, was now staring at him in awe. Shen Yuan smiled at the child as he flicked his blade down to remove the blood. The demon he’d dealt with had been a low-grade creature, one that preyed on travelers hiding in shrubs and relying on the fact that large sects didn’t bother with that sort of riff raff. “I’m happy to rid the world of these cursed creatures.”
The woman bowed low, and Shen Yuan felt vaguely worried she’d topple forward. “This humble old woman is forever in Sanren’s debt. If he finds himself in need, my village will do its best to provide what it can.”
Shen Yuan gave her a polite nod, before turning to look at the corpse of the demon. It lay in the clearing that Shen Yuan had created with a few slashes of his sword. The demon was vaguely human-shaped, with two long arms and legs. Its skin was the color and texture of bark, and from what he’d gathered, it could spit poison and climb trees. It was susceptible to stabbing attacks, but its armor protected against weaker slashes. Shen Yuan studied it for a moment more, cataloguing it carefully in case he came across one in the future.
Shen Yuan had never learned the specific names of the demons that he fought, but he remembered the strengths and weaknesses of every foe he had faced, recognizing signs of their activity in order to defeat them more efficiently. It was probably less effective than whatever those big sects did, but Shen Yuan couldn’t be bothered with that. He’d rather be out fighting than tucked away in some mountain sect, learning to pluck a guqin and paint landscapes. Not when there were people like the woman he’d saved. People that needed his help.
“Many thanks. And likewise. If trouble ever comes to your village, ring this.” Shen Yuan handed her a small bell. “I will find a way to come and help.”
The woman took the bell gingerly, staring at the intricate engravings. Her grandson looked positively enraptured.
Shen Yuan gave her one last nod, before mounting his sword and taking off, rising up and away from the clearing.
He sped east quickly, his brow knit. He’d wasted almost an hour tracking down and fighting the demon down there. That wouldn’t be a problem if he hadn’t already been summoned by one of his bells earlier that day. He hoped that whoever had summoned him was still holding out.
Suddenly he felt a tug on his chest, and he veered left. As he did, he spotted a small village nestled in a deep valley. The tug vanished instantly, and Shen Yuan knew he had arrived.
He drew close to the ground before jumping from his sword and making his way forward on foot. It was evening, and the shadows cast in the forest brought him a twinge of comfort, despite what they might be hiding.
He had always preferred night to day.
When he stepped out of the forest, he was surprised to hear the bustle of activity, and see the colorful glow of lanterns. The smell of street food filled his nostrils, and as he moved toward the center of the small town, he saw that the townsfolk were smiling and chatting happily, some of the children running through the streets waving small flags and banging their little drums. It looked like a celebration.
Shen Yuan wondered if someone had rung the bell by accident. Maybe he had made a mistake in the one of the prototypes?
There was a small tug on his robes. “Mister, are you a cultivator?”
Shen Yuan looked down to see a scrappy young boy, munching on a bit of bread. He was holding Shen Yuan’s robes in a tiny fist.
“Yes.” Shen Yuan nodded. “This one heard that there was trouble here, and came to help.”
“Ah, Gege, you’re just a day too late! The venerable cultivators of Qing Jing Peak arrived in the morning and saved us from the spider-hawk demons.” The boy studied him carefully. “What sect are you from, Gege? I haven’t heard of one with black robes.”
Shen Yuan glanced down at himself. “Mn. This one is a wandering cultivator. Do you know what that means?”
The boy screwed up his face in thought, before shaking his head.
“It means,” Shen Yuan explained patiently, “that I do not belong to a sect. I go wherever there are people in need, and I do what I can to help them.”
The boy looked contemplative. “Well, that’s good then, isn’t it?”
Shen Yuan inclined his head. “This one certainly think so.”
Something else caught the boy’s attention, and he ran off, leaving Shen Yuan to his thoughts. Qing Jing, huh?
He didn’t know much about each individual sect, but that one had a good reputation. Better than Huan Hua, at least. It was strange to see them so far South. This village probably wasn’t even on their maps.
If they’d saved the townsfolk, Shen Yuan supposed he couldn’t complain. He began to walk again, searching for anyone he recognized.
This town wasn’t familiar to him, so whoever rang the bell must have come from somewhere else. He had given out more of the tiny silver bells than he could keep track of, and the rings had been growing more and more frequent. Shen Yuan didn’t mind.
He continued toward the town square, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. He didn’t have to search for long.
A tall, muscular man with a little girl perched upon his shoulders was lugging a bucket of water across the square, patiently allowing the girl to tug at his hair as they walked. He was rather handsome, with a sharp jaw and light eyes, his skin tanned from hard work.
“Wen Zhou?” Shen Yuan asked in disbelief.
The man turned at the sound of his name, and when he spotted Shen Yuan, the bucket he was carrying fell to the ground.
“I’ve gotta be dreaming. Sanren, you really came!” The man broke into a smile, striding over to Shen Yuan.
Shen Yuan waved his hand. “None of that! Call me Shen Yuan.”
Wen Zhou raised an eyebrow. “Ah, really? You’re a big shot now though, aren’t you? I’ve heard rumors from the merchants!”
Shen Yuan rolled his eyes. “Hardly.” Then he glanced up at the little girl. “This must be Chen An? She has your eyes.”
Wen Zhou puffed out his broad chest proudly. “Much bigger than the last time you saw her, isn’t she?”
The girl had the same round, hazel eyes and mousy brown hair as her father. Her skin was lighter than that of Wen Zhou, but Shen Yuan could already see the resemblance between the two. She wasn’t paying attention to Wen Zhou and Shen Yuan, instead fixated on tying Wen Zhou’s short hair into a dozen knots
The last time Shen Yuan had seen her, she’d been a baby cradled in her father’s arms. The blanket she had been swaddled in had been soaked with blood, and she’d been wailing at the top of her lungs. Her mother had lain dead on the ground. The bell that Shen Yuan had handed to Wen Zhou back then had been the second bell he’d ever made.
“She’s grown very well.” Shen Yuan agreed fondly. “How are you managing alone? Does someone watch her while you work?”
Wen Zhou nodded. “She’s at the age where she can come with me to work. It isn’t a problem. Early on, a few of the grannies helped me watch out for her.”
“Good.” Shen Yuan said, before sobering. “But Wen Zhou, why did you summon me?”
Wen Zhou had been one of the first people Shen Yuan had helped after he and Wu Yanzi… parted ways. Shen Yuan had followed rumors of demon activity all the way to Wen Zhou’s hut in the forest, where he’d found Wen Zhou on the brink of death, trying to fight off a demon the size of a bear with nothing but an axe.
Shen Yuan had managed to save Wen Zhou and his daughter, but his wife had died in Shen Yuan’s arms.
The two had traveled together for a month after that, before Shen Yuan had left to help another village. If Wen Zhou had called him, something was most certainly wrong.
Wen Zhou’s expression darkened. “The village. It was attacked, about a day ago. Dozens of demons— they came out of nowhere and dragged people into the forest at random. Horrible things, like spiders with wings and far too many teeth.”
“They were spider-hawk demons, correct?” Shen Yuan asked contemplatively. “A village boy mentioned them.”
“That’s what we were told, yes. We sent out a distress flare, and Qing Jing answered our call.”
Shen Yuan pressed his lips together. “That’s… fortuitous.”
Wen Zhou grinned. “So your admiration for the sects remains as great as ever?”
Shen Yuan scoffed. “Ah, yes. My affection for them is boundless.”
When Zhou snorted and picked up the bucket he had dropped. “Anyways, the demons have been dealt with. But still, I appreciate you coming all this way.”
“Of course.” Shen Yuan replied. “It was nice to see you.”
“Would you stay the night?” Wen Zhou asked. “It’s the least this one could do.”
Shen Yuan opened his mouth to refuse, but paused.
Something felt off.
“Alright.” Shen Yuan decided. “I’ll follow behind you. First, I think I’ll take a look around the town.”
“Not much to see, but feel free. We live beside the inn, you can let yourself in.” Wen Zhou told him with a wave. Shen Yuan nodded pleasantly, before making his way toward the edge of the town.
He stared out into the forest for a moment, eyes narrowed.
It was too silent.
Shen Yuan allowed his eyes to flutter closed, reaching out his consciousness, searching for any irregularities in the spiritual energy in the forest. It was concerningly empty. Not even a rabbit or fox scampering away. Shen Yuan furrowed his brow and pushed out further with his spiritual energy.
If he was a little less careful, he would have missed it.
A flicker of energy so faint it could be mistaken for a gust of wind.
Shen Yuan zeroed in on it.
It was almost a mile into the forest, and distinctly human.
“Shit.” Shen Yuan muttered as he drew his sword and took off in a sprint.
Judging by the feel of the spiritual energy, it belonged to a child. And if it was that faint, then…
Shen Yuan grit his teeth and ran faster. Was it one of the people that Wen Zhou had mentioned have been dragged into the forest? How had the Qing Jing cultivators missed them?
He slowed as he grew closer, sword clenched tightly in one hand.
His eyes darted up into the trees, down onto the shrubs on the forest floor, forward at the surrounding forest around him. One mistake was all it took— Shen Yuan needed to be on high alert. His heart beat was slow, even as his stomach fluttered with tension. Any moment, something could strike.
He took a cautious step forward, and peered around a particularly tall tree.
His heart stuttered.
“Gods.” He whispered in horror.
The entire clearing was cloaked in a giant, intricate spider web. It was perfectly still, its thousands of threads glistening like lace in the moonlight. It seemed to cover every exposed inch of foliage, thin strands woven together until they became thick. And, ensnared within the web, was a limp body.
Shen Yuan winced as he took in the sight.
He couldn’t have been older than thirteen. His pale green robes had been slashed to ribbons, and were soaked with blood. His arms and legs were entangled in the web, the threads digging into his skin. His head hung down, a curtain of hair obscuring his face. He was still breathing, but only just.
What concerned Shen Yuan the most was the thing suspended just above the boy.
It was massive, twice the size of the boy himself. A giant, white cocoon made of the same thin threads as the web.
And it was moving.
Hundreds of small bulges formed beneath the surface of the cocoon, pushing and straining as if trying to force it open. They seemed to be particularly focused at the bottom of the cocoon, as if they were trying to push through the bottom to reach the boy.
Shen Yuan observed the scene for only a few seconds, before he set his jaw firmly.
“Can you hear me?” Shen Yuan whispered. He doubted the boy was still conscious, but he spoke anyways.
Surprisingly, the boy jerked slightly. The movement caused the creatures in the cocoon to writhe even more intensely.
“Stay still.” Shen Yuan warned. “This one will take care of everything.”
With that, he imbued as much spiritual energy as he could into his sword, and began to slash the webs cleanly apart.
He didn’t see any demons, but he was ready to face any that may appear, working his way through the mass of webs. He pushed his spiritual energy out of every pore of his body, keeping the webs off of himself. It was incredibly draining, and even as he pushed forward with renewed vigor, he felt his arms growing heavy.
Luckily, he reached the boy before he had to stop exuding spiritual energy. He cut the boy down carefully, infusing him with warm energy the minute their skin made contact. The boy was ice cold.
“You’re okay,” Shen Yuan whispered, setting the boy on the ground. “Hold on just a moment more.”
He turned his sights to the cocoon above him. He pulled a talisman from his sleeve and weighed his options.
Heavenly fire was usually a failsafe against demons, but if the creatures— which Shen Yuan assumed were the offspring of the spider-hawks— had some sort of immunity to fire, Shen Yuan didn’t know if he’d be able to protect the boy.
The cocoon seemed as if it were on the brink of bursting. Shen Yuan didn’t have time to think.
He activated the talisman and sent it flying toward the cocoon.
He grabbed the young boy and leapt back just as the talisman made contact with the cocoon and burst into flame. Instantly, a wretched scream came from the mass of flames. It was inhuman, but still tortured and frantic. Shen Yuan watched emotionlessly as the outer shell of the cocoon burned away, leaving hundreds of small, winged spiders to fall to the ground, writhing in agony as they burned alive. Shen Yuan carefully dispatched any that didn’t burn with his blade.
It took less than a minute for the clearing to be reduced to ash and char.
Shen Yuan nodded slightly to himself.
“Nn,” a tiny noise came from the boy, and Shen Yuan hurried to his side. He knelt beside the boy, and examined his face.
He hadn’t gotten a chance to truly look at the boy before. His face was symmetrical, with thick eyelashes and pale skin. His hair was coal black and wavy, unbound around his shoulders. He was probably a rather adorable boy, when he wasn’t on the brink of death.
“Shizun?” The boy croaked, eyelids fluttering.
Shen Yuan frowned. “No, this one is not your Shizun. This one is Shen Yuan.”
The boy blinked his eyes, squinting. “Not Shizun?”
“No.” Shen Yuan confirmed patiently. “This one is Shen Yuan.”
“Shen Qingqiu?”
“No. Is that the name of your Shizun?” Shen Yuan asked gently, pushing more spiritual energy into the boy.
The boy nodded.
“Well.” Shen Yuan pushed the boy’s hair from his face. “Your Shizun must not be very reliable, if he left you to those creatures.”
The boy stiffened in Shen Yuan’s arms. Had that struck a nerve? Shen Yuan scolded himself internally. He really needed to learn some bedside manners.
“That may have been too harsh.” Shen Yuan began. “It was likely a mistake—“
The boy didn’t seem to be listening. “Shizun… wasn’t there. It was Ming Fan. Ming Fan and the others, they— they saw it drag me into the woods.” The boy said slowly, as if his mind was still piercing itself together. “They saw it, and they didn’t help. They let it take me.”
Shen Yuan’s brow furrowed deeply. “Ming Fan? Is that a fellow disciple of yours?”
The boy nodded. His eyes were growing wet. “They left me.”
Shen Yuan was beginning to understand the events that had unfolded. It must have been one of those ‘practice’ missions the sects sent new disciples on, in areas they considered low priority. There must have been some animosity among the youths which caused them to abandon the boy after the mission was over. Though the sects presented a front of unity, even the disciples squabbled amongst themselves.
Shen Yuan wondered if they knew about the web and the cocoon. He wouldn’t put it past a large sect to leave a threat to the village in tact as a means to achieve their own ends.
“What is this disciple’s name?” Shen Yuan decided not to begin a rant about the irresponsibility of the sects.
The boy blinked tear filled eyes, staring intently at Shen Yuan. He seemed to be studying every inch of his face. “Luo Binghe. This one is Luo Binghe.”