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Liu Qingge was starting to think that his shixiong was cursed. Every time the Peak Lord of Qing Jing stepped foot off the mountain, something happened. There was always an incident of some kind, anything from an attack from a demonic beast, to falling into a certain plant or pond with particular effects, to happening upon some lost ancient artifact. If he wasn’t so glad to see the man up and about instead of wasting away at that sword mound, he would have gotten the man confined to his peak.
But even if he had, he wasn’t certain he could have kept the man in anyway. And while one might think his shixiong clumsy or inadequate due to how many situations he ended up in, Liu Qingge knew better. Shen Qingqiu had all of the majestic prowess expected of an immortal cultivator. He was quick and clever and smart, and tended to deal quite well with whatever circumstances he ended up in. Which only gave more credence towards his theory that the man was cursed.
Even so, there wasn’t much Liu Qingge could do about such things. He was not a curse-breaker nor a physician, so unless there was a particular beast he needed to hunt, he could do little to assist with the curse. But he could offer assistance in keeping these incidents from getting his shixiong killed every time he left Cang Qiong. Shen-Shixiong may be an excellent fighter, but he was at a disadvantage due to the curse. And even with all his prowess, he was nothing against the might of the Bai Zhan War God.
Shen Qingqiu did not always seem to appreciate having an escort, but he did not try very hard to shoo him away, and so Liu Qingge followed him on whatever journey he went on. Sometimes they were alone. Sometimes they were accompanied by disciples. Sometimes they were accompanied by other Peak Lords, when whatever they were investigating seemed to warrant it.
This time, their traveling party had the added presence of Shang Qinghua, Qi Qingqi, and Mu Qingfang. He didn’t know why there were so many Peak Lords on this mission. He hadn’t actually been paying all that much attention to the meeting. He just knew that Shen Qingqiu was going on it, and therefore so was he.
There was traveling, and talking, and some more traveling and talking. Liu Qingge didn’t pay much attention, keeping his ears peeled for threats and his eyes on Shen Qingqui. It was only a matter of time before something happened to the man, if the pattern held, and so he would remain on high alert so as to mitigate any potential damage.
It wasn’t until they were in the cavern they had been sent into —something about a fear demon living inside, nothing he couldn’t handle— when the curse finally struck. The thing that Shen Qingqui touched looked exactly like all the rocks around it, up until his shixiong put a hand on it and it began glowing a menacing red.
The Peak Lord wavered, suddenly unsteady on his feet, and Liu Qingge rushed to support him before he fell and things got even worse. A strange smell filled the air, sharp and bitter and faintly metallic. It was nothing like anything he had smelled before, and he could only hope it wasn’t some new kind of poison.
“Mu Qingfang!” He barked, the man quickly hurrying over to check Shen Qingqiu’s meridians.
He wasn’t even trying to get out of Liu Qingge’s hold or complaining about how he could take care of himself. He was taking big, aching, stuttering breaths, practically choking on the air, eyes wide with a quickly encroaching look of terror. He did his best to carefully drag him away from the rock, hoping that getting away from whatever was in the air would help him breathe.
“Shen-Shixiong, can you hear me?” Mu Qingfang asked, a mask of practiced calm over his face as he circled the man’s qi.
Liu Qingge was quick to add his own, familiar with the process from helping with Without-A-Cure. There didn’t appear to be any anomalies in the Peak Lord’s meridians, but he wasn’t familiar enough with their workings to tell for certain.
“Ah- y-yes, I can hear you,” Shen Qingqiu stuttered out with a breathless gasp, still struggling to get air into his lungs.
It also seemed like he was struggling to focus, and with the way his panic was climbing he could easily work himself into a qi divination. This was very much not good.
“What is the rock?! How do we counter it?!” He demanded to the two Peak Lords who were carefully examining the damned thing.
Shang Qinghua jumped with a squeak, “I- I think it might be the Gemstone of Fearful Redolence! I think it was used by some ancient demon clan to torture their prisoners! It conjures up a person’s most traumatizing- I mean, distressing smell! It uses the smell along with some of its power to drive the victim into a qi deviation, from which it draws power back into itself tenfold!”
Liu Qingge did not question his shixiong. Shang Qinghua may be the Peak Lord of logistics, but his elevated knowledge surrounding rare plants and artifacts was known. Unless the Lord of Chuang Zao Peak himself contradicted the mousy little man, Liu Qingge would defer to his knowledge.
“Whatever Shen-Shixiong’s worst smell is, it is horrible! I feel like it is going to burn up the inside of my lungs!” Qi Qingqi complained, holding her nose shut and keeping a good distance between her and the stone.
Liu Qingge wanted to snap at her for her untimely comment, but he was distracted by a whimper. Shen Qingqiu was losing the battle against the torture, struggling to remain conscious and breathing. He tried to send some of his qi to help the man’s lungs, but he wasn’t sure how much good he did when nothing was actually wrong with them in the first place.
“How do we stop it?!” He barked, once more making Shang Qinghua jump.
“The victim has to overcome the fear the smell invokes! But it’s very hard to do that on your own, so helping him through it will be necessary! We need to figure out why this is his smell and then convince him that everything is ok!”
The worried mouse wrung his hands together as he sidled closer, crouching down to be more on Shen Qingqiu’s level and staring at him nervously.
“Shen-Shixiong, can you tell me what this smell is and what it means to you?” Mu Qingfang asked, still trying and failing to steady the man’s breathing, “I’m afraid it is not something familiar to me.”
Shen Qingqiu shook his head so hard he nearly fell over, eyes shut tight and hands fisted in Liu Qingge’s robes.
“We need you to tell us shixiong, or we won’t be able to help you,” Mu Qingfang insisted.
The frustration and helplessness that bubbled up in him mixed nauseatingly with the strange smell in the air. It bit at his nose and lungs, reminding him vaguely of the cleaning solution used on Qian Cao Peak, although that wasn’t nearly as strong. But what could the scent of cleaness so sharp it burned mean to Shen Qingqiu?
The man still refused to tell them, practically shaking in his arms with his heart going faster than a horse. He shared a glance with Mu Qingfang, who gave him a grimace. If they didn’t calm him down soon, he was going to have a qi deviation.
“I swear it is vaguely familiar, but I just can’t put my finger on-” Shang Qinghua muttered under his breath, “...Oh… oh shit.”
“What? What is it?!” He demanded, but for once the An Ding Peak Lord didn’t react.
“Oh Shen-bro… Hey, hey look at me,” The smaller man leaned in, putting his hands on Shen Qingqiu’s cheeks, “There we go. You feel this? You feel where my fingers are?”
He watched as Shang Qinghua traced his fingers around Shen Qingqiu’s face, over his cheeks and beneath his nose.
“There’s nothing there, nothing connected to you. You feel Mu Qingfang and Liu Qingge’s hands? They’re holding your wrists, so you know there's no IV. You’re not there bro, and you never will be again. Not unless you count Mu Qingfang’s tender mercies!”
The teasing tone of the last sentence seemed to startle a slight laugh out of the breathless Shen Qingqiu, who thankfully seemed to be coming back to himself the more Shang Qinghua talked and stroked his skin. Liu Qingge rubbed the man’s wrist where he was holding it, hoping that he was being helpful, and thought.
Shang Qinghua had figured out what the smell was, but hadn’t seen fit to tell them. He hadn’t even mentioned it to Shen Qingqiu, even while calming him down. Whatever he had realized, he was trying to keep it private, probably for Shen Qingqiu’s sake. Liu Qingge could appreciate that, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious.
Whatever the smell was from, it reminded Shen-Shixiong of someplace bad. Someplace that had brought him pain, where things had been attached to his face and his arms and he hadn’t been able to escape. Liu Qingge did not know where this place was, and he was not going to ask, but he vowed to ensure that Shen Qingqiu would never end up there again. Not when the smell of that place was what an artifact designed to torture someone decided was the best option. Not the smell of blood or rot, but a sharp, cloying acid.
He glanced at the ever-steady Mu Qingfang, an entire conversation passing between their eyes. Neither of them knew how to make Qian Cao less like that place, but he was certain that Mu Qingfang would try. And if he couldn’t, well, Shen Qingqiu had always preferred home visits over going to the physicians' Peak. Perhaps this was exactly why.
“I’m fine, I get it, stop rubbing my face!” Shen Qinggiu complained, and Liu Qingge knew that was it.
The fan would go back up, veiling any kind of vulnerability exposed by this adventure, and they would never speak of this again. But Liu Qingge had seen, had smelled, one of the vulnerable points Shen Qingqiu so viciously guarded, and he would defend it with his life.
Nobody was going to hurt his shixiong. He would not let them.