cloudless_nights



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    Opening his eyes, Mu Yuan finds the disciple giving him a glare that’s a lot less glare-y. “That depends,” he says mildly. Then he smiles. “If you feel better or not.” He keeps his palm in the center of the man’s chest.

    Green eyes meet his own for a few really long seconds. Then the man inhales deeply and circulates his qi. His pretty green eyes widen and his lips part with surprise. “What did you do?”

    Mu Yuan grins. “Better, right? Ha! I knew it!.” He removes his hand and rocks back on his heels feeling entirely too pleased with himself.

    The Qing Jing peak disciple gets a complicated look on his face. “It’s…” Finally he adds grudgingly, “Better.”

    Mu Yuan keeps smiling. “You didn’t think I could help you, did you?”

    That earns him a fresh scowl. “Who exactly do you think you’re talking to?”

    Oh, is he one of THOSE? Mu Yuan thinks. He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you’re very scary and intimidating, I get it.” He leans in and says softly, “But I’m glad you feel better.”

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    15 Jul 2026

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    While dealing with a limited infestation of aphrodisiac plants, Shen Qingqiu discovers Mu Qingfang's been hiding something very important from him.

    Well. Someone.

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    15 Jul 2026

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    Yue Qingyuan really needed a moral compass that worked during his preheat.

    If he had one, maybe he wouldn't be stealing Shen Qingqiu's clothes for his nest right now.

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    06 Jul 2026

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    "Ah," Yue Qingyuan thought, "there’s something in the tea."

    Shen Qingqiu tries to secretly turn Yue Qingyuan into an omega. The 'secretly' doesn't pan out, but the rest of it sure does.

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    06 Jul 2026

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    It’s screaming again. Shen Qingqiu lies unmoving in his bed, just listening to it for a long time. What wretched, heartbroken wails. It only stops for air, brief pauses as it fills up its lungs to screech it all out again, high and piercing. He put it in the sideroom to get it out of his sight, to try and muffle it, but it still feels as if it’s screaming directly into his ear. Not a soul on Qing Jing Peak must be able to rest with such a clamor.

    Eventually, he does get up out of bed. It feels like dragging a corpse, his body aching and unwilling, still half torn apart from what he had gone through weeks ago. A pain so awful that it had felt like violation, torture. Almost nostalgic, really.

    He opens the door to the sideroom, and it does somehow get louder. And there, in the little crib gifted (forced, snuck into his home while he was in labor) to him by Yue Qingyuan, is the infant. Shrieking, its voice ragged with unanswered despair, its little face screwed up hideously. It no longer looks red and shrunken all the time, but crying brings back that appearance.

    It is almost always crying.

    -

    Shen Qingqiu has made a life and he hates it, and hates it, and hates it.

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    06 Jul 2026