Chapter Text
Shen Qingqiu had been dead for months, but his corpse had yet to be laid to rest; his disgraced disciple had made sure to drag him down into dishonour with him.
Liu Qingge couldn’t stand it. So, he found himself breaking down the walls and arrays that protected Huan Hua Palace, and forcing his way to the room where his dear shixiong lay, until his usual obstacle dared to cross his path once again, in one of Huan Hua’s maze-like halls.
“Luo Binghe!” He roared as he leapt toward the demon, swords meeting in an ear-piercing clash.
“Liu Qingge.” Luo Binghe gritted out, brows furrowed, and he suddenly sidestepped, attempting to throw Liu Qingge off-balance - as if he were some inexperienced disciple.
“Dishonourable brat!” The Bai Zhan War God spat as he went to stab Luo Binghe’s shoulder, who was already on the move once more.
“Trespasser.” The word came from behind him, and Liu Qingge quickly twisted round to beat away the blow aimed at his lower back, before shoving his sword deep into the demon’s navel. Hissing, the demon’s face contorted harshly, and he attempted to step away, but Liu Qingge pursued.
Falling into the demon's trap.
Its dark, demonic sword slashed harshly down across his abdomen, leaving agony in its wake.
But Liu Qingge had no time to waste on pain. The demon’s sword hung low, and Liu Qingge clutched the opportunity before him, swinging his sword up, then down, deep into Luo Binghe’s shoulder. The demon’s eyes burned like coals, fire alight within him as he used a sudden burst of demonic qi to throw Liu Qingge across the room, through the wall, and back out into one of the courtyards.
Liu Qingge rolled, and rolled, and used the momentum to force himself upright. His breathing came out ragged, and wet, and desperate.
A flurry of black and red shot out of the building, and Liu Qingge stumbled as he parried. Their swords screeched as Liu Qingge forced his blade further and further down the demon’s, forcing his hand lower and lower, until he could make clear, uninterrupted eye contact, and watch the beads of sweat running down the demon’s face. And, finally he had just enough room to smack his head into Luo Binghe’s. The pain that blossomed in his skull was well worth the gasp of surprise from the demon, even if it did cost him a shallow wound from that damn demonic sword.
Liu Qingge leapt forward, once again flying towards his goal. Luo Binghe, however, was hot on his tail, grabbing him by the edges of his robe that had fluttered out behind him. He yanked the War God violently, his collar choking him as he stumbled backwards, the sharp point of that damn, demonic sword slipping through his thigh. Groaning loudly, Liu Qingge shoved his own sword quickly backwards, letting it hit wherever it pleased. The grunt from the demon behind him was satisfying enough, until the sword through his thigh was tugged out, and he was tossed toward a group of Huan Hua disciples on swords, who held his bloodied, writhing form and flew him back to Cang Qiong Mountain, and dumped him at the base. They sighed in annoyance, like he was some sort of inconvenience.
“You really ought to stop returning, Peak Lord Liu. You’re bringing yourself great shame.” One of them said, before turning around and flying back towards Huan Hua Palace.
“I don’t care.” Liu Qingge muttered to no-one. “I will kill the one who dishonours my shixiong.”
Bleeding and struggling to breathe, Liu Qingge dragged himself up the mountain, to Qian Cao Peak, where he soon collapsed.
Liu Qingge always returned as soon as Mu Qingfang let him off Qian Cao. It didn’t matter how healed or tired or pained, he always returned for his shixiong. After all, he owed him a life debt that he had failed to repay; he could not fail at giving him his final death rites, too.
“Dirty, demon, trickster!” He growled as their swords met.
“Liu Qingge.” Luo Binghe responded, his demonic qi flaring wildly. His control over it seemed to rise and fall, though Liu Qingge didn’t particularly care for the reasons why - he merely hoped he qi deviated sooner rather than later, so he could finally get his shixiong back without all the fuss.
Liu Qingge quickly crowded Luo Binghe, angling his sword to slice into his jaw. The demon’s brow creased in pain as he stepped away, allowing Liu Qingge to angle his sword down to cut across his chest. The demon gritted his sharp teeth in fury, and did a quick sidestep of his own as he saw him flash towards him. A smug sense of satisfaction filled him as the rivulets of crimson slid down his sword, and Luo Binghe leapt towards him from behind. Liu Qingge lunged away, Xin Mo only grazing the very edges of his outer robe.
The demon sword came hurtling straight towards his shoulder again, only for Liu Qingge to harshly smack the sword away, kicking Luo Binghe’s leg out from underneath him as he spun to stand behind him. His demonic qi flared again, as Liu Qingge stuck his sword through the demon’s own right shoulder. Luo Binghe yelped in pain and his qi, once again, started pulsing irregularly. His breathing quickened as he dashed away, his whole body shaking. Liu Qingge, seeing his opportunity, made a mad dash for the room where he knew Shen Qingqiu’s body lay, but the weakened demon was still not weak enough. He launched Liu Qingge back into the courtyard, and sent him smashing through a tree. Scrambling upward, Liu Qingge’s heart beat in a fast, steady rhythm, his gaze levelled and piercing into the bloodied demon before him. Luo Binghe, his zuiyin pulsing in time with his qi, covered in his own blood, teeth bared like a wild animal - or disgusting, angry demon.
Leaping forward, their blades screeched against each other once again, Xin Mo shaking much more violently than he had ever seen before. Suddenly, Liu Qingge stepped backwards, releasing the pressure on the blade, before suddenly charging forwards again, and slapping it out of the demon’s grasp. He started to sprint towards his destination, before a massive explosion of qi erupted from behind him. He hurtled forward - further into Huan Hua Palace - as the courtyard behind him was smashed to dust. The tiny pieces of stone that erupted into the air ripped his back apart. And the demon was hot on his heels, appearing out of the cloud and finally stabbing sharply into his shoulder. Liu Qingge bit his tongue in shock, the tang of iron blooming in his mouth. Strike after strike met parry after parry, and even through Luo Binghe’s shaky madness he managed to force Liu Qingge further away from his deceased shixiong.
Anger filled him, hot and harsh and poisonous. He pettily slashed at where Luo Binghe’s hand held his sword, hoping to take off a few fingers. He slashed at his pretty face, his long, silky locks, his muscular body. And, desperately, savagely and mercilessly, Luo Binghe slashed at his face, fingers and torso, too. Like a pair of mindless animals they hit and hit and hit, until the true beast itself finally landed a long, clean hit, right across his torso. Then another one, clean through the back of his knee. Then a final smash to his skull to send him tumbling down to the dust-covered ground. He heard the demon say something in his usual, angry, dismissive way, and some Huan Hua disciples appeared.
Though, this time, they dumped him at the top of the mountain.
Mu Qingfang had kept him for much longer, this time. Telling him angrily not to go back, telling him the sect didn’t want to have to lose another peak lord, especially so soon after losing Shen Qingqiu, telling him to think of his sister, who had to keep watching him act so stupidly. That one had given him pause. Not a long pause, just a small one. He had a debt to repay, an obligation to his martial brother. He couldn’t just… let it go. It was the final act of kindness he could give to his shixiong, whom he had let be imprisoned and mistreated by that foul demon.
He had to return.
Except, this time, it had been different. There was no Luo Binghe in sight, only some annoying disciples, clad in yellow.
“Move.” Liu Qingge spat out; he had no time for minor annoyances.
“Senior Liu, you return again, after the countless humiliations you’ve received at Luo Binghe’s hand. You ought to give up, before Luo-Shixiong finally gets tired of this game and takes your life!” The disciples all surrounded him in a circle, glaring icily. “Turn around now, or discover the might of Huan Hua Palace!”
Liu Qingge scoffed. “You disciples ought to be taught some discipline.”
With a shout, they leapt towards him, two at once. Liu Qingge quickly batted them away, letting them skid across the courtyard. Then, two more disciples took their place, aiming low at his thighs and navel.
As if such lowly tricks would ever be effective on him.
The disciples kept coming in an endless circle, each one returning after being sent flying back, while the next attacked, each attack coming at a different angle, with no rhythm or flow. And, much to Liu Qingge’s alarm, he soon found himself becoming more sluggish. He recalled Mu Qingfang’s advice, and his informing Liu Qingge that he was weakened.
The War God, weakened, and potentially defeated by a bunch of lowly disciples.
Anger flooded his veins, renewing his vigor. He sent a strong burst of qi out from himself, and flung himself forward. He didn’t much care for the disciples he was leaving in the dust; he assumed their healer would get here soon enough.
A flash of pain, directly into his right shoulder.
Liu Qingge grunted in annoyance, snapping around to slash the gnat away. Unfortunately, another one took the opportunity to attack from behind. He leapt sideways, and stabbed at the other one, who hit the ground with a loud crack. The boy he had slashed huffed out a laugh, and Liu Qingge turned back to face him.
“Senior Liu, since you insisted upon repeatedly attacking our Head Disciple, we have named you an enemy of Huan Hua!” The boy’s sword glinted with a brownish tinge. “This poison has no cure, and will not be so kind as to kill you quickly, just as you have so cruelly beaten our Shixiong over all these months!”
Liu Qingge gritted his teeth. He would finish off these disciples quickly, and then return back to Cang Qiong. Mu Qingfang would know a cure, surely. He would probably berate him forevermore and forbid him from leaving, but he trusted that he would fix him. He always had.
“Since you’ve decided to name me an enemy of your sect, I’ll stop holding back now, brats.” He hissed, as he leapt forward. As each one leapt at him, he simply stabbed at whatever opening they foolishly left, and tossed them aside. Quickly, their plan of rotation failed, as they lay across the courtyard in various states of injury. Unfortunately, the poison they had given him was fast-acting, and a general sense of light-headedness and weakness had come over him. Sighing heavily, he went to mount his sword and fly away, until Luo Binghe appeared. He glanced around the courtyard, before meeting Liu Qingge’s eyes.
“Liu Qingge, beating disciples of another sect so violently… how dishonourable.”
“How dare you speak of honour, demon!” Liu Qingge spat in response.
“Don’t worry, this disciple will send away this intruder.”
“Shixiong!” One of the boys cried out as Luo Binghe drew his sword. “I gave him the Palace Master’s Poison - you don’t need to waste any more energy on this disgraceful cultivator!”
Luo Binghe’s eyes suddenly widened, and his head snapped over to the boy. Liu Qingge assumed it was excitement, at hearing of his rival’s potential near demise. He opened his mouth to retort back that some lowly trick like poison would not kill him, but suddenly Luo Binghe spoke.
“Who gave you permission to use that?” He spoke, sounding almost… alarmed.
“The Palace Master, Shixiong.” The boy was bleeding significantly, and panted as he spoke.
“I am the one who has been dealing with this issue. Liu Qingge has been mine to fight, yet you dare -”
Liu Qingge’s vision had started to go horribly spotty, and Luo Binghe suddenly sounded very far away. His stomach ached, his legs trembled, and against his will, Liu Qingge suddenly vomited on the ground in front of him, collapsing onto his knees and barely missing the mess. The back of his throat burned, and the stench of bile and medicinal herbs hit it harshly. The nausea remained, and Liu Qingge leant forward, onto his arm, to vomit once again. Warmth had appeared on his shoulder at some point, yanking it back, but he paid it no heed. Gasping for air, he fought the urge to vomit - again. He had to return to his sect.
He attempted to stand, but quickly his legs gave out, and the hand on his shoulder had yanked his arm in an attempt to keep him upright. That arm was slung around someone’s shoulder, and they started yelling angrily. Liu Qingge could sort of see the disciples he had beaten through his blurred vision, looking on fearfully and ashamedly, but he couldn’t really remember why they would be anymore. His breath quickened as he began to gag again, and suddenly there was an arm around his waist, allowing him to lean forward without collapsing. He spewed the last of the herbs that were in his stomach out onto the floor, leaning heavily on the arm wrapped around him. When he was done, the hand on the wrist that had been slung across someone’s shoulder tightened, as well as the arm around his waist, as he was dragged into Huan Hua Palace.
They moved quite slowly, Liu Qingge’s weak stumbling quite the hindrance. An annoyed voice came from beside him, and suddenly he was flipped over his shoulder, and they were sprinting down the corridor. A minute later, he was tossed onto a bed, panting.
The nausea was back, and it became quickly apparent he hadn’t actually emptied his stomach.
The vomit ended up in his hair, and all over his face, and suddenly Liu Qingge couldn’t keep his head up, or keep himself awake. Someone was shaking him, talking urgently and angrily in his ear, but he could only grasp the sounds, not the words themselves.
A wet hand covered his mouth, dripping some kind of liquid down his throat. Liu Qingge obediently swallowed whatever he could, and quickly his hearing and sight returned. Glancing sideways, he met eyes with Luo Binghe.
“Try not to vomit again, Liu Qingge.”
“Shut up, demon.” He muttered without any real kick to it. Luo Binghe huffed out a breath from behind him, the strange intensity in his eyes lessening a tad. Liu Qingge moved to stand, and get away from the foul stench in front of him. “I’ll return to Cang Qiong, now.”
“I’m not done.” Luo Binghe’s hand around his face gripped tighter again, his other pushing down on the back of Liu Qingge’s neck. He forced his head to tilt backwards, and another rush of the liquid flowed in. This time, Liu Qingge was aware enough to taste the iron tang of blood on his tongue. He startled, but the tight grip Luo Binghe had on his neck allowed for no movement, and the hand that had been dropping blood against his lips suddenly forced its way inside Liu Qingge’s mouth - two fingers, curled and pressed against his tongue, resting against his teeth to force his mouth open, and let the blood drip down, as his thumb rested underneath his chin. Liu Qingge writhed and twisted as best he could; he had no desire to discover what Luo Binghe’s demonic blood could do to him. The demon simply moved his other arm to force Liu Qingge against the wall, and limit his squirming.
Liu Qingge suddenly became aware of his internal organs and the blood writhed within them. Gasping in shock, he ended up choking on a mouthful of that vile liquid. He could still feel it as it slithered through his veins, mapping them out in his head. It wasn't painful - Liu Qingge would’ve preferred that - but it was uncomfortable to have a demon in every tiny crevice of his body. Nothing was left untainted, even his heart was gripped in the hold of Luo Binghe’s strange blood. Eventually, he could feel it all draw back, tracing the path it had taken through his veins, down into his stomach -
And violently up, out of his mouth.
Luo Binghe ended up with his own deep, red blood covering his robes, and Liu Qingge couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of satisfaction.
Then, as his head cleared, and he regained his footing, his vision and his body, it was replaced with confusion.
“Why did you do that?” He spat out at the demon, who had been staring at him blankly.
“Do what?”
Liu Qingge scoffed. “That!” He tilted his head towards the blood, drying on Luo Binghe’s robes.
“To save you.” Luo Binghe kept staring that same, awful, blank stare.
“Why did you… save me, demon?!” He snapped back, annoyed.
Luo Binghe stared. Empty. Blank. Unsettling. Again.
“You wouldn’t be able to return and fight if you died.”
Liu Qingge gritted his teeth in fury. “You-! Demon!” He lunged at him, knocking him down onto the bed. “Does this amuse you? Do you take your ‘Shizun’s’ life so lightly? Do you think of me as mere entertainment?” Liu Qingge was screaming by this point, swinging his fists as with each syllable; none of them were making contact with anything but Luo Binghe’s palm.
“Liu Qingge’s devotion is impressive.” Luo Binghe responded flatly.
“Shut up! I don’t care what you think of it, I don’t care what you call it! Return him to me! Return him to his sect!” Liu Qingge’s face burned, as streams of tears flowed down it. Luo Binghe harshly caught his next, messy punch with one hand, gripping his waist with the other. He flipped them over, sitting on Liu Qingge’s thighs, trapping him beneath him.
“My devotion will not allow me to give up on Shizun.” He said, staring deeply into Liu Qingge’s eyes. Liu Qingge could feel his chest heaving with anger, his heart beating in desperation.
A tense moment of silence fell, and Liu Qingge considered throwing a punch once again, before his thoughts were interrupted.
“You seem well enough; you should return to Cang Qiong Mountain.” Luo Binghe suddenly got off of him, moving to stand. “This disciple wishes Liu-Shishu a speedy recovery.”
“You dare to-” Liu Qingge stretched out his fingers, preparing to form a sword seal, but Luo Binghe simply turned around and left without any further conversation.
Liu Qingge’s hand froze. He stood, and wiped his damp face. He had embarrassed himself thoroughly in front of Luo Binghe, perhaps he no longer thought him a worthy opponent. If that were the case, he would certainly show him how wrong he was.
The hole burned into his chest by Luo Binghe’s blank, empty eyes told him otherwise.
Today, he would return to Cang Qiong - not because he had any desire to listen to the demon Luo Binghe - but because tomorrow he had to return and fight the demon Luo Binghe. He had to return and reclaim the body of Shixiong, and tomorrow he would have to finally win, and lay him to rest, and get rid of that awful hole that had allowed a glimmer of understanding to alight within him.
He had never wanted to understand a demon.
He picked up Cheng Luan, and was on his way.
He did not win tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that.
But with each return, that hole in his chest grew more and more, the light of understanding growing ever stronger, and eventually, glowing and burning fiercely into something else he daren’t ever acknowledge.
Luo Binghe’s eyes weren't empty when they fought. Luo Binghe had chosen to save his life. Luo Binghe fought and fought, day and night, all for-
He hid it under the smoke of hatred, and vowed to never speak its name aloud.
The man Liu Qingge had fought for, with body and soul, with sword and fists, with every inch of his soul, chose to leave with Luo Binghe. Liu Qingge hadn’t seen them for months. Shen Qingqiu had simply left after the Maigu Ridge incident, where he nearly died at Luo Binghe’s hand again. He couldn’t understand any of it, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he had any particular reason to force him to stay, so he let him go. Luo Binghe seemed to have a strange effect on people, anyway. He, in turn, took on as many faraway missions as he could. It wasn’t exactly a rare thing for the peak lord of Bai Zhan to be away anyway, so nobody thought anything of it.
Perhaps a few peak lords, who threw him strange sideways glances whenever he returned to his peak, thought something of it, but it didn’t matter. Barely anybody thought anything of it.
One day, he heard whispers of their return. Whispers of eloping while they were away, whispers of negotiations between Cang Qiong and the demon realm, whispers of all sorts of nonsense.
When they did eventually return, it was mere coincidence that he was away. Diplomacy talks wouldn’t have required the Bai Zhan Peak Lord’s presence anyway, so it wasn’t like he was missed.
No, he wasn’t missed at all, he was sure.
Days and weeks slipped easily into months, which slipped even faster into a year and a half. Liu Qingge had begun to think of them less frequently than before, yet when he arrived back at his peak to Yang Yixuan informing him of Shen Qingqiu’s request for tea, it all came rushing back to him. Unfortunately, he had no real reason to decline the offer. So, he bathed and changed into new robes, and hopped on his sword.
Liu Qingge knocked at the door, and heard a pattern of heavy footsteps he could never forget.
“Liu-Shishu.” Luo Binghe opened the door. “I was beginning to think you hadn’t received Shizun’s message after all.” He sighed. “Seems I was wrong.”
“Liu-Shidi?” Liu Qingge heard from the bamboo hut. His heart was already beating harshly, but at the sound of that voice, it seemed to pick up its pace. As he met eyes with Luo Binghe, he was certain he could hear it, too. Graceful footsteps made their way to the door, peering around Luo Binghe’s sturdy frame.
“Liu-Shidi! Come in, it’s a pleasure to see you!” Shen Qingqiu smiled from above his fan, waving him in with it. Luo Binghe took his husband’s free hand, and trailed after him, shooting Liu Qingge a handsome, smug smirk over his shoulder. Liu Qingge let his brow furrow at that, and followed two steps after the couple.
As Shen Qingqiu sat on the floor, Luo Binghe made a show of their intertwined hands once again, staring into his Shizun’s eyes devotedly, running off to the kitchen at his gentle request for food and tea.
“It has been far too long since this Shixiong has had the pleasure of seeing his Shidi.” Shen Qingqiu spoke as gently as ever, a small smile still adorning his beautiful face.
“Mn.” Liu Qingge sat stiffly down on the ground.
“Has Liu-Shidi been well?” Shen Qingqiu asked, his hair flowing as he fluttered his fan softly beneath his face.
“Mn.” Liu Qingge had never been a man of many words, always merely following after Shen Qingqiu’s voice. Their conversation continued as such until Luo Binghe arrived with a tray of cakes and tea. With a glint in his eye, he sat down next to his husband, pressing up to him from hip to knee, from shoulder to waist, wherever he could. He leant his head on his Shizun’s shoulder, clinging to his hand with both of his own. Liu Qingge let the suffocating fire in his chest manifest a twitch in his brow, and a tightening of his jaw. Shen Qingqiu, observant at the worst of times, sighed.
“Liu-Shidi,” He started to speak, looking almost shy, hiding behind his fan. “This Shixiong would greatly appreciate it if you could try and get along with his husband. As a cultivator, I understand your… apprehension towards demons, but Binghe and I have been attempting to improve human and demon relations in recent times, and there have been many great strides towards peace.”
The smoke of anger had successfully entered their noses too, it seemed. Liu Qingge didn’t know whether to celebrate or weep.
“This Shidi will make an attempt.” He forced the words out, sounding bitter for all the wrong reasons.
“Thanking Shidi. Liu-shidi and Luo Binghe are both excellent swordsmen, perhaps… you could benefit from sparring with one another?” Shen Qingqiu suggested, taking a sip of his tea.
Liu Qingge met Luo Binghe’s eyes, and stayed silent. Liu Qingge thought back to the years of fighting, of constant losing, of weakness. The years of another hot body pressed to his, of the sharp gaze of a worthy opponent, of another person fighting desperately for Shen Qingqiu. Back then, it had been easy to hide under the smoke of anger; the fire had burned with the kindlings of it. Now, those kindlings were long turned to embers. A fight with Luo Binghe would surely be very… different.
Luo Binghe gripped his Shizun’s hand, smiling up at him sweetly. “There’s no need for that, Shizun. I’m sure Liu Qingge and I will naturally learn to get along after spending some time like this together.”
“Be respectful, Binghe! Refer to him properly.” Shen Qingqiu lightly swatted him with his fan. Luo Binghe pouted at his Shizun, but still turned to face Liu Qingge anyway.
“Apologies for this disciple’s mistake, Liu-Shishu.” He bowed his head, but his exaggerated tone - and years of memories - spoke louder.
The sun had begun to set outside, and Liu Qingge could no longer bear to be in the presence of the fuel to the fire raging in his chest.
“This Shidi will get going now. Apologies to Shen-Shixiong.” He stood and turned to leave quickly, just making it out the door before someone grabbed his forearm. He turned around to the sight of Luo Binghe, glaring at him.
“This disciple apologises again for his behaviour. He would hate for Liu-Shishu to leave so suddenly, as would Shizun.”
Liu Qingge let his face tense up, attempting to ignore the warm touch on his arm.
“I have work to do.” He attempted to wrench his arm free from Luo Binghe’s grip, but it tightened, his claws pressing threateningly against his skin.
“You’ll make Shizun sad.” His gaze did not waver.
“I’m busy.” Liu Qingge spat out, stepping backwards and yanking his arm harshly. Luo Binghe, ever the persistent brat, stepped in time with him. Liu Qingge spun round, but Luo Binghe simply followed, gripping his arm painfully. Liu Qingge moved again, yet Luo Binghe followed. And again. And again. In a flash of rage, Liu Qingge instinctively pulled out his sword; Luo Binghe hadn’t gripped his sword hand. Luo Binghe immediately let go, and pulled out his own. Upon seeing Luo Binghe stood before him with his sword unsheathed, muscle memory suddenly kicked in. He immediately slashed towards his legs, and Luo Binghe attempted to sidestep around him. Having already remembered this classic move of his, Liu Qingge quickly repositioned himself, and went for his abdomen. Luo Binghe took a step back, but not without first getting a slash of red across his torso. Without missing a beat, Liu Qingge leapt towards him once again, sword pointed towards his shoulder. Luo Binghe rapidly put himself in a proper fighting position, and batted the sword away. Stepping around him once again, he muttered into Liu Qingge’s ear as he went past.
“Isn’t this a bit harsh for a spar, Liu Qingge?”
Suddenly, Liu Qingge remembered where he was, and who else was there, and froze. Ever the opportunist, Luo Binghe kicked the back of his leg in, and Liu Qingge fell to the ground with a loud thud.
How embarrassing.
Shen Qingqiu was staring at him in shock as Liu Qingge attempted to register what had just happened. A moment of stillness fell upon the trio, before Liu Qingge scrambled to his feet, hopped on his sword, and took off back to his peak.
He had attacked Shen Qingqiu’s husband on his own peak. If he wasn’t missed before, he would certainly not be missed now.
He made it back to his own hut before his face began to burn harshly, and tears began to spill from his eyes. He quickly wiped them, ashamed of his weakness, and decided to ask the sect leader for a mission - any mission - the next day, and not return until the couple had left.
He wished his tears were enough to extinguish the damn fire burning, scalding hot, in his chest. He let them flow for just a minute longer, praying they would.