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Quiet Night Thought: Chapter 1 [SVSSS]
Title: Quiet Night Thought
Fandom: Scum Villain's Self-Saving System
Pairing/Characters: Shen Jiu & Shen Yuan, Shen Jiu & everyone, Shen Yuan & Shang Qinghua, Shen Jiu & Yue Qingyuan
Rating: NR (probably T?)
Warnings:
Word Count: 2,536, Ch. 1 / 5; See All Chapters
Summary: Shen Yuan unwittingly gives character-growth advice to the Qing Jing head disciple Shen Jiu in a weak plot device of a shared dream. Of course, advice that's good from a plot perspective isn't always advice that's good for the individual, especially when that individual is a real person with real emotions and real trauma.
It wasn't like Shen Yuan spent all his time reading web novels and watching donghua, no matter what his irritating little sister liked to claim. He had other hobbies! His new-money parents had been very insistent that he and his siblings learn the four arts so that they could appear to be a cultured family at the many dinner parties they attended, and he still practised them. Occasionally. And he read other, intellectual books, too. Except for the limitations of his physical health, he was a very well-rounded person! It was really just a coincidence that his dreams took place in a xianxia setting! It probably happened to everyone!
Shen Yuan sighed as looked at the misty scene he'd found himself in. To his left, there was a small, simple building with an aesthetic that was more handwavy-oldtimey elegant than anything that had ever actually existed in any period of China's long history. Disappointing, really. Shen Yuan would have hoped that his unconscious mind would be better able to construct a realistic architecture than this. The building was surrounded by a grove of bamboo, and downhill, he could see a clear pool that seemed to be glowing in the light of the full moon overhead. It was peacefully idyllic, he'd give it that, but what a pain it would be to lug water up that hill! A for aesthetics, D for functionally.
As he meandered along, he understood abruptly, with that strange way that dreams had of dumping knowledge directly into minds, that he wasn't alone. As soon as the realisation passed over him, he saw the boy, sitting by the pool and arguing with himself, though Shen Yuan was positive that no one had been there a moment ago. He looked at the boy for a moment, wondering what his role was to be in this dream. Was he a kindly teacher, here to pass on comfort or knowledge to a struggling student? The boy did seem to be dressed in stereotypical disciple robes, the sort stripped directly from an under-budgeted drama. Or perhaps he was an unnamed NPC passing through to shed wisdom like dandruff, the kind of person credited as Wise Immortal Master #9. Yes, that seemed the most likely for this RPG dream, given Shen Yuan's own preferences. He shook out his sleeves, expecting to feel the heavy slide of billowing silk, but instead, the familiar sensation of worn cotton chafed at his wrists, and he looked down in betrayal. Really, dream, you couldn't even spring for an appropriate costume? Fail! One star! Watch out, Sandman, Shen Yuan was coming for your feedback page, and there would be carnage!
Shen Yuan scowled, but gathered himself. He'd just have to make due.
Meanwhile, the boy's muttering had continued. "Stupid sect! Stupid Qi-ge! So he thinks he can abandon me and all will be forgiven with a half-hearted apology and no explanation! Stupid shixiong! Where do they get off, criticising me for the way I treat him, the way I belittle him! What about the way that he treats me, the way he belittles me? I hate them! I hate him! I hate—!" At this, the boy broke off into furious sobs.
Shen Yuan nodded sagely. Yes, a classic setup. He'd read about this same kind of scenario hundreds of times. He knew what to do. Time to break out his best Socratic dialogue.
"If you hate them, why not leave?" he asked, coming to stand beside the pool.
The boy jolted in shock—and fear?—at his voice, but then seemed to freeze in confusion when he looked Shen Yuan over, his eyes tripping over his modern clothing, which must look so strange to his little dream-generated brain.
The boy seemed to recover himself, looking around him now with more alert eyes.
Shen Yuan waited for a while, but when he started to get bored, he couldn't help but prod with a mild, "Well?"
The boy looked at him again, and seemed to come to a conclusion. "Where would I go if I left? Qi-ge is here, and he's the only one I ever—the only one who ever mattered."
The boy's eyes were intense, and his hands were fisted and shaking in his lap.
"He mattered before, but now you hate him, so why stay?"
"I… " The boy looked away. "I can't leave. I have to know he's safe."
Shen Yuan smirked internally, but was careful to make sure none of his smugness made it to his face. "And you treating him poorly keeps him safe… how, exactly?"
The boy glared at him, and Shen Yuan smiled at him innocently. "Does it bolster his reputation, keeping him safe from malicious gossip? Does it make him less likely to engage in risky behaviour that could lead to him being injured? Does it make his enemies fearful to attack?"
Shen Yuan allowed the boy a few moments to stew silently before he asked, gentling his voice, "Does it do the opposite of all those things? Expose him to cruel words, to accidents, to attacks?"
The boy pointedly looked away.
Shen Yuan smiled again. He was so good at this whole wise NPC thing! "Young master," he said, "you will have to decide for yourself what your priority really is, but if your hatred overwhelms your protectiveness, then you should leave." Many revenge stories would be much more boring and also much less stupid if the MCs would only follow that advice. "If your protectiveness overwhelms your hatred, then you should stay and protect him properly."
"But why should I?" the boy snapped suddenly. "He can't even give me a half-hearted excuse for why he betrayed me! He just gives me cheap presents and empty apologies as though that's supposed to make up for him abandoning me like I'm nothing to him!"
"So what?"
The boy reared back in surprise, but gathered himself quickly. "What do you mean, so what? If I'm nothing to him, why should I treat him well?"
What a spoiled brat! Shen Yuan fought not to roll his eyes. Time to pull out the tough love. "Maybe you're nothing to him because you really are nothing. Maybe he abandoned you because you're not worth anything to him, or to anyone else. So what?"
"S—so—"
"If that's true, does that make any difference, if he's not nothing to you?"
"I—"
"If you're really nothing to him, then you should be grateful to even get cheap presents and empty apologies!" Shen Yuan continued, hurling his words with all the wrath of a punishing god—or worse, like a black powder fan. "Take the presents, accept the words, and treat him with respect and kindness! If you're nothing, he'll forget about you again, and maybe you can finally forget him. If not, at least you'll actually be in a position to protect him! And if protecting him is nothing to you, then just leave!"
The boy didn't cry, the way Shen Yuan half expected him to. Instead, he swallowed his tears and raised his chin in defiance. "Maybe being at odds with me is actually protecting his reputation after all! Everyone hates me, after all."
"And does that protect him better than if you got along with him and everyone liked you?" Shen Yuan shook his head in exaggerated disappointment, channelling his own childhood maths tutor. "If he's worth protecting, then he's worth earning the respect of even those you dislike. If he's worth protecting, then he's worth protecting even at the cost of your own safety, and your own happiness, and your own pride. And if he's not, then leave."
The boy was staring at him, something like hatred in his eyes. Feral little thing, wasn't he. As he opened his mouth to reply, the dream faded away, and Shen Yuan was blinking his crusty eyes open and grimacing at the raw scratch of his couch cushion against his cheek. From the direction of his TV, he could hear a dramatic revenge speech being uttered in poorly written dogblood wuxia dialogue, though without his glasses, he couldn't guess what cookie-cutter drama had come on since he fell asleep.
Thinking back over his strange dream, Shen Yuan considered that maybe, maybe, his little sister was slightly right, and he should back off from his fantasy stories and go out every now and then.
Then his phone beeped with a notification, and he sat up when he recognised that chime as the one he set to mark the novel updates. As he expected, that no-good author Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had posted another update of his shitty web novel. As Shen Yuan settled in to read and eviscerate, he thought that if Proud Immortal Demon Way had a wise teacher character like the NPC he'd played in his dream, it would solve so many of the problems in the book. That Shen Qingqiu really was the worst!
"I heard that Shen Qingqiu was one of the disciples who tried the Dream Seeking Wisdom flower! Can you believe it! It must not have worked, because he's still here, and any real wisdom would tell him how little he belongs in a righteous sect like ours!"
“Of course it didn’t work—there have only been a few documented cases of the Dream Seeking Wisdom flower working in the entire history of the sect. Why would it work for Shen Qingqiu of all people?”
Liu Qingge scowled at his practice sword. Couldn't they gossip somewhere else? As though it wasn't enough that he'd have to see Shen Qingqiu in the afternoon at the succeeding disciple meeting—which could potentially last for hours—but now he also had to be subjected to that name on his own Bai Zhan Peak, which should be a refuge?
It's not that Liu Qingge had ever liked Shen Qingqiu, but it had been unbearable to even be in the same room as him recently, ever since they'd gone on a shared mission and Shen Qingqiu, that snake, had tried to stab him in the back. It was one thing to despise a martial brother, but they should at least be able to count on one another's support when serving the sect! It was worse than disgusting—it was dishonourable!
But despite Liu Qingge's complaints to his shizun, nothing happened to Shen Qingqiu, who continued to swan around like the spoiled young master he was. Cang Qiong was supposed to be above things like secular rank and wealth, but clearly some peaks were more diligent in the practice than others, as there was no reason someone like Shen Qingqiu could be brought to the sect and instantly made succeeding disciple based on his merit alone—he wasn't even good at fighting when he wasn't playing dirty. The only possible reason for his position in the sect was some bribery from his family, who were clearly high ranking. Liu Qingge wouldn't be surprised if he was actually a prince, given his total ignorance over basic niceties. Though why he couldn't just go back to live in his stupid palace and leave them alone in peace…
A gong sounded, and Liu Qingge lowered the practice sword with a sigh. Time to clean up, then eat, then head over to Qiong Ding Peak.
Maybe he could fake an illness or an injury.
He eyed his sword thoughtfully. Or… not fake an injury.
"Qingge."
Liu Qingge looked up at his shizun guiltily.
"These meetings aren't meant to be a torture for you. Cang Qiong Mountain Sect is a peaceful gathering of diverse interests. The peak lords have always been friends, and," the Bai Zhan Peak Lord eyed his student meaningfully, "that is a tradition that will be continued in future generations."
If you want us to be friends, then don't choose a future peak lord who's a treacherous snake, thought Liu Qingge resentfully.
"So?" said the Bai Zhan Peak Lord. "Go make friends."
By the time Liu Qingge had stomped and sulked his way through washing up and eating, the rest of the succeeding disciples had already made their way to the pavilion on Qiong Ding Peak and were flocked around the table like a scant dozen fluffed up roosters. This was normal, but… something about the atmosphere seemed off. He looked around suspiciously, feeling his nostrils flare out and then wincing internally as he imagined Shen Qingqiu's inevitable mocking lilt comparing him to a hunting dog.
But no such comment came, and Liu Qingge squinted at Shen Qingqiu. The other disciple was quietly pouring tea for the gathering, which wasn't terribly unusual. What was unusual about the scene was the fact that he was doing so without any acerbic comments about their inability to make tea themselves, or his fear that he'd be poisoned by their incompetence. Instead, he was simply making and serving cup after cup with a polite and respectful bow.
Liu Qingge looked to the side, and sure enough, there was Yue Qingyuan, looking flushed and dazed with joy, shaky hands holding a steaming cup. He seemed fixated on something in Shen Qingqiu's hair, which—ah, so that's what it was. Shen Qingqiu was wearing a stylized hairpin shaped like a pair of twin butterflies. It didn't suit his personality, his aesthetic, or the fashion of the gathering, but it was well known as the first gift Yue Qingyuan had given him, famous for the way it almost ended up being stabbed through Yue Qingyuan's open palm when Shen Qingqiu had flown into a nonsensical rage. The pin had disappeared after that, though many had tried to hunt for it in an attempt to gain the favour of the future sect leader. Apparently, after all that, it had found its way back to its intended recipient.
Liu Qingge sat down cautiously. It wouldn't do to be caught unawares when the ghost or demon possessing Shen Qingqiu attacked.
And yet, no such attack came, though the meeting didn't become any less strange. Far from his usual cutting, cruel remarks and sneers, Shen Qingqiu remained quiet and calm-faced, keeping his eyes downcast and the cups full. He only spoke up a few times, and when he did, his remarks were actually helpful. It took nearly the entire meeting, but eventually, Liu Qingge was certain that Shen Qingqiu was not possessed—no, this was part of some dastardly plan to get into their good graces so that he could more effectively stab them in the back, just as he'd tried to stab Liu Qingge by the well. Liu Qingge wasn't certain of this until he saw the way Shen Qingqiu would pinch his own wrist when the conversation turned in ways that would normally call on his ire—the more irritating the topic, the harsher the pinch. No, Shen Qingqiu was in control of himself and was intentionally choosing to change his behaviour. If it were genuine, Liu Qingge would be relieved, but he knew that hearts didn't change as easily as smiles, and a sick heart like Shen Qingqiu's would never change at all.
No, he was up to something. And it was up to Liu Qingge to find out what and to stop him at any cost.
Next Chapter
Fandom: Scum Villain's Self-Saving System
Pairing/Characters: Shen Jiu & Shen Yuan, Shen Jiu & everyone, Shen Yuan & Shang Qinghua, Shen Jiu & Yue Qingyuan
Rating: NR (probably T?)
Warnings:
Word Count: 2,536, Ch. 1 / 5; See All Chapters
Summary: Shen Yuan unwittingly gives character-growth advice to the Qing Jing head disciple Shen Jiu in a weak plot device of a shared dream. Of course, advice that's good from a plot perspective isn't always advice that's good for the individual, especially when that individual is a real person with real emotions and real trauma.
It wasn't like Shen Yuan spent all his time reading web novels and watching donghua, no matter what his irritating little sister liked to claim. He had other hobbies! His new-money parents had been very insistent that he and his siblings learn the four arts so that they could appear to be a cultured family at the many dinner parties they attended, and he still practised them. Occasionally. And he read other, intellectual books, too. Except for the limitations of his physical health, he was a very well-rounded person! It was really just a coincidence that his dreams took place in a xianxia setting! It probably happened to everyone!
Shen Yuan sighed as looked at the misty scene he'd found himself in. To his left, there was a small, simple building with an aesthetic that was more handwavy-oldtimey elegant than anything that had ever actually existed in any period of China's long history. Disappointing, really. Shen Yuan would have hoped that his unconscious mind would be better able to construct a realistic architecture than this. The building was surrounded by a grove of bamboo, and downhill, he could see a clear pool that seemed to be glowing in the light of the full moon overhead. It was peacefully idyllic, he'd give it that, but what a pain it would be to lug water up that hill! A for aesthetics, D for functionally.
As he meandered along, he understood abruptly, with that strange way that dreams had of dumping knowledge directly into minds, that he wasn't alone. As soon as the realisation passed over him, he saw the boy, sitting by the pool and arguing with himself, though Shen Yuan was positive that no one had been there a moment ago. He looked at the boy for a moment, wondering what his role was to be in this dream. Was he a kindly teacher, here to pass on comfort or knowledge to a struggling student? The boy did seem to be dressed in stereotypical disciple robes, the sort stripped directly from an under-budgeted drama. Or perhaps he was an unnamed NPC passing through to shed wisdom like dandruff, the kind of person credited as Wise Immortal Master #9. Yes, that seemed the most likely for this RPG dream, given Shen Yuan's own preferences. He shook out his sleeves, expecting to feel the heavy slide of billowing silk, but instead, the familiar sensation of worn cotton chafed at his wrists, and he looked down in betrayal. Really, dream, you couldn't even spring for an appropriate costume? Fail! One star! Watch out, Sandman, Shen Yuan was coming for your feedback page, and there would be carnage!
Shen Yuan scowled, but gathered himself. He'd just have to make due.
Meanwhile, the boy's muttering had continued. "Stupid sect! Stupid Qi-ge! So he thinks he can abandon me and all will be forgiven with a half-hearted apology and no explanation! Stupid shixiong! Where do they get off, criticising me for the way I treat him, the way I belittle him! What about the way that he treats me, the way he belittles me? I hate them! I hate him! I hate—!" At this, the boy broke off into furious sobs.
Shen Yuan nodded sagely. Yes, a classic setup. He'd read about this same kind of scenario hundreds of times. He knew what to do. Time to break out his best Socratic dialogue.
"If you hate them, why not leave?" he asked, coming to stand beside the pool.
The boy jolted in shock—and fear?—at his voice, but then seemed to freeze in confusion when he looked Shen Yuan over, his eyes tripping over his modern clothing, which must look so strange to his little dream-generated brain.
The boy seemed to recover himself, looking around him now with more alert eyes.
Shen Yuan waited for a while, but when he started to get bored, he couldn't help but prod with a mild, "Well?"
The boy looked at him again, and seemed to come to a conclusion. "Where would I go if I left? Qi-ge is here, and he's the only one I ever—the only one who ever mattered."
The boy's eyes were intense, and his hands were fisted and shaking in his lap.
"He mattered before, but now you hate him, so why stay?"
"I… " The boy looked away. "I can't leave. I have to know he's safe."
Shen Yuan smirked internally, but was careful to make sure none of his smugness made it to his face. "And you treating him poorly keeps him safe… how, exactly?"
The boy glared at him, and Shen Yuan smiled at him innocently. "Does it bolster his reputation, keeping him safe from malicious gossip? Does it make him less likely to engage in risky behaviour that could lead to him being injured? Does it make his enemies fearful to attack?"
Shen Yuan allowed the boy a few moments to stew silently before he asked, gentling his voice, "Does it do the opposite of all those things? Expose him to cruel words, to accidents, to attacks?"
The boy pointedly looked away.
Shen Yuan smiled again. He was so good at this whole wise NPC thing! "Young master," he said, "you will have to decide for yourself what your priority really is, but if your hatred overwhelms your protectiveness, then you should leave." Many revenge stories would be much more boring and also much less stupid if the MCs would only follow that advice. "If your protectiveness overwhelms your hatred, then you should stay and protect him properly."
"But why should I?" the boy snapped suddenly. "He can't even give me a half-hearted excuse for why he betrayed me! He just gives me cheap presents and empty apologies as though that's supposed to make up for him abandoning me like I'm nothing to him!"
"So what?"
The boy reared back in surprise, but gathered himself quickly. "What do you mean, so what? If I'm nothing to him, why should I treat him well?"
What a spoiled brat! Shen Yuan fought not to roll his eyes. Time to pull out the tough love. "Maybe you're nothing to him because you really are nothing. Maybe he abandoned you because you're not worth anything to him, or to anyone else. So what?"
"S—so—"
"If that's true, does that make any difference, if he's not nothing to you?"
"I—"
"If you're really nothing to him, then you should be grateful to even get cheap presents and empty apologies!" Shen Yuan continued, hurling his words with all the wrath of a punishing god—or worse, like a black powder fan. "Take the presents, accept the words, and treat him with respect and kindness! If you're nothing, he'll forget about you again, and maybe you can finally forget him. If not, at least you'll actually be in a position to protect him! And if protecting him is nothing to you, then just leave!"
The boy didn't cry, the way Shen Yuan half expected him to. Instead, he swallowed his tears and raised his chin in defiance. "Maybe being at odds with me is actually protecting his reputation after all! Everyone hates me, after all."
"And does that protect him better than if you got along with him and everyone liked you?" Shen Yuan shook his head in exaggerated disappointment, channelling his own childhood maths tutor. "If he's worth protecting, then he's worth earning the respect of even those you dislike. If he's worth protecting, then he's worth protecting even at the cost of your own safety, and your own happiness, and your own pride. And if he's not, then leave."
The boy was staring at him, something like hatred in his eyes. Feral little thing, wasn't he. As he opened his mouth to reply, the dream faded away, and Shen Yuan was blinking his crusty eyes open and grimacing at the raw scratch of his couch cushion against his cheek. From the direction of his TV, he could hear a dramatic revenge speech being uttered in poorly written dogblood wuxia dialogue, though without his glasses, he couldn't guess what cookie-cutter drama had come on since he fell asleep.
Thinking back over his strange dream, Shen Yuan considered that maybe, maybe, his little sister was slightly right, and he should back off from his fantasy stories and go out every now and then.
Then his phone beeped with a notification, and he sat up when he recognised that chime as the one he set to mark the novel updates. As he expected, that no-good author Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had posted another update of his shitty web novel. As Shen Yuan settled in to read and eviscerate, he thought that if Proud Immortal Demon Way had a wise teacher character like the NPC he'd played in his dream, it would solve so many of the problems in the book. That Shen Qingqiu really was the worst!
"I heard that Shen Qingqiu was one of the disciples who tried the Dream Seeking Wisdom flower! Can you believe it! It must not have worked, because he's still here, and any real wisdom would tell him how little he belongs in a righteous sect like ours!"
“Of course it didn’t work—there have only been a few documented cases of the Dream Seeking Wisdom flower working in the entire history of the sect. Why would it work for Shen Qingqiu of all people?”
Liu Qingge scowled at his practice sword. Couldn't they gossip somewhere else? As though it wasn't enough that he'd have to see Shen Qingqiu in the afternoon at the succeeding disciple meeting—which could potentially last for hours—but now he also had to be subjected to that name on his own Bai Zhan Peak, which should be a refuge?
It's not that Liu Qingge had ever liked Shen Qingqiu, but it had been unbearable to even be in the same room as him recently, ever since they'd gone on a shared mission and Shen Qingqiu, that snake, had tried to stab him in the back. It was one thing to despise a martial brother, but they should at least be able to count on one another's support when serving the sect! It was worse than disgusting—it was dishonourable!
But despite Liu Qingge's complaints to his shizun, nothing happened to Shen Qingqiu, who continued to swan around like the spoiled young master he was. Cang Qiong was supposed to be above things like secular rank and wealth, but clearly some peaks were more diligent in the practice than others, as there was no reason someone like Shen Qingqiu could be brought to the sect and instantly made succeeding disciple based on his merit alone—he wasn't even good at fighting when he wasn't playing dirty. The only possible reason for his position in the sect was some bribery from his family, who were clearly high ranking. Liu Qingge wouldn't be surprised if he was actually a prince, given his total ignorance over basic niceties. Though why he couldn't just go back to live in his stupid palace and leave them alone in peace…
A gong sounded, and Liu Qingge lowered the practice sword with a sigh. Time to clean up, then eat, then head over to Qiong Ding Peak.
Maybe he could fake an illness or an injury.
He eyed his sword thoughtfully. Or… not fake an injury.
"Qingge."
Liu Qingge looked up at his shizun guiltily.
"These meetings aren't meant to be a torture for you. Cang Qiong Mountain Sect is a peaceful gathering of diverse interests. The peak lords have always been friends, and," the Bai Zhan Peak Lord eyed his student meaningfully, "that is a tradition that will be continued in future generations."
If you want us to be friends, then don't choose a future peak lord who's a treacherous snake, thought Liu Qingge resentfully.
"So?" said the Bai Zhan Peak Lord. "Go make friends."
By the time Liu Qingge had stomped and sulked his way through washing up and eating, the rest of the succeeding disciples had already made their way to the pavilion on Qiong Ding Peak and were flocked around the table like a scant dozen fluffed up roosters. This was normal, but… something about the atmosphere seemed off. He looked around suspiciously, feeling his nostrils flare out and then wincing internally as he imagined Shen Qingqiu's inevitable mocking lilt comparing him to a hunting dog.
But no such comment came, and Liu Qingge squinted at Shen Qingqiu. The other disciple was quietly pouring tea for the gathering, which wasn't terribly unusual. What was unusual about the scene was the fact that he was doing so without any acerbic comments about their inability to make tea themselves, or his fear that he'd be poisoned by their incompetence. Instead, he was simply making and serving cup after cup with a polite and respectful bow.
Liu Qingge looked to the side, and sure enough, there was Yue Qingyuan, looking flushed and dazed with joy, shaky hands holding a steaming cup. He seemed fixated on something in Shen Qingqiu's hair, which—ah, so that's what it was. Shen Qingqiu was wearing a stylized hairpin shaped like a pair of twin butterflies. It didn't suit his personality, his aesthetic, or the fashion of the gathering, but it was well known as the first gift Yue Qingyuan had given him, famous for the way it almost ended up being stabbed through Yue Qingyuan's open palm when Shen Qingqiu had flown into a nonsensical rage. The pin had disappeared after that, though many had tried to hunt for it in an attempt to gain the favour of the future sect leader. Apparently, after all that, it had found its way back to its intended recipient.
Liu Qingge sat down cautiously. It wouldn't do to be caught unawares when the ghost or demon possessing Shen Qingqiu attacked.
And yet, no such attack came, though the meeting didn't become any less strange. Far from his usual cutting, cruel remarks and sneers, Shen Qingqiu remained quiet and calm-faced, keeping his eyes downcast and the cups full. He only spoke up a few times, and when he did, his remarks were actually helpful. It took nearly the entire meeting, but eventually, Liu Qingge was certain that Shen Qingqiu was not possessed—no, this was part of some dastardly plan to get into their good graces so that he could more effectively stab them in the back, just as he'd tried to stab Liu Qingge by the well. Liu Qingge wasn't certain of this until he saw the way Shen Qingqiu would pinch his own wrist when the conversation turned in ways that would normally call on his ire—the more irritating the topic, the harsher the pinch. No, Shen Qingqiu was in control of himself and was intentionally choosing to change his behaviour. If it were genuine, Liu Qingge would be relieved, but he knew that hearts didn't change as easily as smiles, and a sick heart like Shen Qingqiu's would never change at all.
No, he was up to something. And it was up to Liu Qingge to find out what and to stop him at any cost.
Next Chapter