Jing Shui chuckled, the sound somewhat melancholy and helpless. “So you really did find out. Brother Feng, you are scarily efficient.”
Qinghe shrugged. “In the cultivation world, whatever titles the ones outside bestow upon you doesn’t matter. What matters is what you make of yourself once inside. You rose to the position of a head disciple by yourself, you have already been selected as the future sect master. Everyone acknowledges you as a strong cultivator. These are the only things that matter now.”
Laughing a bit more genuinely this time, Jing Shui said, “Thank you, Brother Feng. I’m grateful for your words.”
Waving his gratitude away, Qinghe spoke, “There is no need for thanks among friends. You don’t need to tell me about your past either.”
Jing Shui shook his head. “No, I want to tell you this and share with you that part of my life.”
“Alright,” Qinghe said helplessly. “If it’s important to you, then I will listen.”
After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Jing Shui began, “I was not born the crown prince. I was the third-born and was promised a relatively carefree life. My second imperial brother always fought with my eldest imperial brother, as though if he won enough arguments, he could snatch the position of Crown Prince. Seeing this, my parents did not want me to add to the conflict and compete for the throne. So they instilled in me a lack of ambition and instead encouraged my dreams of one day becoming a cultivator. I was content with my life.
“When I turned fourteen, my aptitude for cultivation was discovered. I was overjoyed and snuck out to get tested. I was recognized to have high potential and was found to be able to wield the water element. The cultivator in charge of the testing returned with me to the palace and asked my parents to allow me to cultivate in a sect. My parents reluctantly agreed to wait until I was sixteen before they let me make that decision. The cultivator agreed and left.
“But within those two years, my second brother managed to plot against and kill my eldest brother the crown prince. Second Imperial Brother was punished lightly and released, and a scapegoat was found and hung in his stead. After all, he was the only one capable of assuming the mantle of crown prince now. Tensions rose high in our family and everyone looked at Second Brother with distrust and disgust. But what could they do? I wasn’t given the appropriate education and so could never be suitable to inherit the throne.
“My eldest imperial brother’s widow was furious at the light punishment and took upon herself to kill her husband’s murderer. She succeeded and died in the process. I was the only one of my siblings left. None of them had left a legitimate heir and none of the sons of the emperor’s concubines were qualified either, making everything all the more complicated. I wasn’t allowed to continue as I had been anymore. Lessons after lessons were thrust upon me, but how much could I learn in such a short time?
“I looked forward to turning sixteen and going off to cultivate in the lofty mountains, leaving behind the mess of my family. I was too naïve. When I finally turned sixteen and the cultivator came to fetch me as promised, my parents chased him out. When I said I wanted to follow him back, they locked me up. I was the crown prince now. I needed to be taught ambition and how to rule a country. They forced onto me everything they said I shouldn’t covet.
“So using my yet undeveloped powers, I ran away. I was found by the cultivator who had been chased out of the palace and convinced him to take me back to his sect. That is how I became a disciple of the Golden Sun Sect.”
After talking for so long, Jing Shui’s throat felt raw. He drank from his waterskin and put it away before continuing, “Even though I know that many decades have passed and that as I am now, my family has no way to take me back by force, I still worry. It is something I fear to the point of having nightmares about it.”
Qinghe listened in thoughtful silence. He hadn’t bothered to learn all the details before, only needing to know Jing Shui’s identity in case it caused trouble directly or indirectly to the Heavenly Peak Sect when he came over as a visiting guest disciple. But knowing about it now gave him a better understanding of this friend of his.
“Thank you for telling me,” Qinghe said sincerely.
Jing Shui just shook his head and didn’t reply. The rims of his eyes were red and his lips pressed together tightly enough to lose color.
Though Qinghe knew that Jing Shui must have downplayed a lot of events, he didn’t fully understand why Jing Shui was so affected by the thought of his family dragging him back. But he still earnestly offered reassurance.
“Though I also think your worries are unfounded, I need you to know this: If you ever disappear or get kidnapped by your family, if anyone ever targets you or tries to hurt you, I will take care of it. I have the means and the ability, and I will not abandon you. I have chosen you to be my friend after much deliberation, so I will not let go. Whatever happens, I will protect you.”
The solemn vow startled Jing Shui. There were no flowery words, just a blunt and straightforward declaration. And he knew that Qinghe meant every single word. He would really be there for him in times of need. Though tears brimmed in his eyes, he maintained his pride and didn’t let them fall.
Lightly sniffing, Jing Shui joked, “I hope you did not just declare your love to me. I am not interested in you in that way.”
“You can only wish,” Qinghe sneered haughtily. He no longer maintained even a semblance of his amicable façade.
They sat in companionable silence for a while, just watching the flames dance merrily, casting its yellow light upon the peacefully sleeping faces of the disciples lying around it.
“I suppose it’s my turn now,” Qinghe said softly, breaking the silence.
“You don’t have to if it’s too painful for you,” Jing Shui still tried to be considerate.
“Nothing of that sort. It’s just an ordinary story. Do you want to know or not?” Qinghe was impatient to just get it over with.
Jing Shui hesitated, but eventually gave in to his curiosity and nodded.
“This is how my story begins: Once upon a time around thirty years ago, it was a beautiful summer day when I fell from the sky.”
“…”
Jing Shui’s lips twitched. What do you mean ‘it’s just an ordinary story’? The beginning itself is beyond abnormal!
But of course, Qinghe cared not for his fellow martial brother’s indignity. He just calmly continued, “Apparently my falling created a huge fluctuation in the spiritual energy of the area. Many cultivators tried to find the source of the fluctuation, but the ones closest to the place found me first. They put a collar made of spirit-suppressing material around my neck and carried my body broken from the fall back to where they lived. It was a ramshackle, inhumane place they had the gall to call an orphanage.”
Jing Shui paled. The beginning felt so ominous in and of itself. He could only imagine how a young child without any power would have fared in such a situation. But Qinghe’s face only held disdain and mild hatred, no fear.
“The owners of the place were low-level cultivators who hadn’t even formed their cultivation cores. They beat us up for fun and dumped us into a narrow cramped room at night. The stronger children trampled and slept on top of the weak. Rats and insects would nibble on our fingers and toes if we weren’t vigilant enough. We had a thin gruel that smelled of sewage for dinner. Those who wanted to eat more had to fight with the others to the death over a bowl of stale soup with bits of ground, soggy rat meat. That itself was considered a luxury.”
Jing Shui wanted to throw up in disgust at the thought of swallowing something like that. His refined palate that had only ever tasted luxurious food, be it at the palace or the sect, rebelled at the very thought of letting something so foul ever getting close to him.
Not noticing his companion’s green pallor, Qinghe continued casually, “A group of starving, abused children are worse than a pack of rabid monkeys. The fights were vicious, with kids desperately punching, kicking, biting and scratching, and the orphanage’s owners enjoyed spectating. It was a cruel place to live where you never knew if you would survive another minute. Many of the kids went insane or had a complete breakdown just days after being brought to that place.
“For the sake of living, I adapted as quickly as possible. I could never bear to kill, but I held my own and kept myself fed. I suppose I had a companion at one time, but he withdrew into himself and eventually died. It might have been terrible at that time, but in hindsight, I’m glad I had the chance to experience the cruelties of life, or else I might have never had enough willpower or ruthlessness to do everything I need to now.”
Jing Shui didn’t know what to say. If anyone else said they had been glad for experiencing all that, he would have thought it to be false bravado. But it was Feng Qinghe after all, he had no need to feign braveness.
“How did you get out from there?” Jing Shui finally managed to ask with much difficulty. He felt dreadful for Qinghe, but also knew that the other person needed no comfort. He seemed to be dealing with his tragic past just fine.
Qinghe frowned as he recalled the memory of the day he was able to leave that place and a faint ripple of unease appeared in his eyes. “I was twelve when they decided I needed to enter the ‘playroom’. They had a group of sleazy-looking clients already lined up for me. They just sat me in a chair and told me not to be disobedient while they…touched me.”
The memory of their touch surged within Qinghe, cutting off his words. It seemed he wasn’t as unaffected as he’d expected. At that time, he’d thought himself inured to the pain and humiliation, to the bitter frustration brought on by his own powerlessness. He didn’t think it could get worse than that until he felt those rough hands disgustingly running over his body while he was forced to just sit and endure it. At least while fighting, he was allowed to strike back. But at that time, he could only force down his nausea, hate, and shame, he could only submit to their greedy gazes and filthy caresses, fearing the violation that was to come…
His face lost all expression. This was how he had been back then, with an ice-cold mask perpetually frozen over his face. Even when they had been touching him, he had kept up his cold expression, unable to show fear or make a sound.
Jing Shui knew that something was wrong. Qinghe looked as if made from stone, cold and unmoving. Even his breathing seemed to have paused. His cheeks were pale and bloodless, his eyes looking haunted. Qinghe had wrapped his arms around himself as if to protect himself from an imaginary enemy. Jing Shui had never seen his friend like this.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to elaborate anymore. I can guess what happened.”
But Qinghe merely shook his head. After a while, he said hoarsely, “They didn’t… Nothing more happened than that, because the sect master arrived in time. He was investigating the spiritual fluctuation caused due to my fall. Even with the spirit-suppressing collar on me, he still managed to track me down. He arrived in time and took me back to the sect. Last I heard, Sentinels had already cleaned up that place.”
Qinghe closed his eyes and sighed. He didn’t expect he would react so badly to recalling that memory. He pushed back those unwanted recollections into a dusty corner of his mind. And slowly, bit by bit, he managed to relax himself. When he felt his usual calm settle over him, he opened his eyes again.
Sitting by his side silently, Jing Shui was looking at Qinghe with a grieving, heartbroken expression.
“Stop looking at me like that, I’m alright now,” Qinghe said helplessly. He hadn’t expected this intense a reaction from Jing Shui.
“Feng Qinghe, don’t lie.”
Qinghe looked at him with widened eyes. This was the most informal he had ever seen Jing Shui being.
“We both carry the weights of our pasts, you more than me it seems. But just like you want to shield me from my fears, I also want to help you deal with yours. Never forget that I will also be here for you.”
Not knowing how to react to that, Qinghe just nodded.
Everything was silent once more as ghostly shadows from the past seemed to hover over their heads.