Chapter Text
It starts rather innocuously, all things considered, on an uncharacteristically gloomy day.
At this time of year, deep into summer, Qing Jing is typically bathed in overwarm sunlight, leaving the grasses on the edge of wilting and the bamboo needing meticulous oversight to ensure it doesn’t dry out. It wouldn’t be surprising to see half a dozen disciples caring for the foliage at any given moment, while another few practice their guqin or engage in a friendly spar a few steps away. Summer was never nearly as tranquil as spring, when Qing Jing’s spiritual energy would be at its ripest and most of its inhabitants would therefore spend their free time meditating, nor was it as busy as autumn, when preparations for the approaching freeze saw the peak crawling with visitors from across the sect bearing food for storage and supplies for building insulation.
On this day, however, the peak feels rather more like it would during the winter. The lack of sun makes the greenery appear rather dull, and the high number of disciples out on assignments means the peak feels empty, lifeless. Still, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t let the dreariness affect his mood—not that his mood was all that cheery to begin with.
Now, Shen Qingqiu has and continues to categorically reject the rumors characterizing him as some kind of “grieving widow” or “lost soul,” but he’s self-aware enough to admit that some days are better, and some days, like today, are worse. Much worse.
To kick things off, he’d been woken earlier than usual by the lingering stress of a nightmare, and subsequently been unable to fall back asleep due to the embarrassment of calling out for Luo Binghe only to instantly remember his situation. Then, the rain began to come down in fits and starts, never heavy enough to commit to a cozy day inside, and never light enough to exist outside without feeling mildly uncomfortable and damp. Finally, his breakfast, delivered by an over-cheery Ning Yingying despite the fact he likely wouldn’t touch it, was accompanied by a note from the sect leader requesting his presence on Qiong Ding.
Days like this would usually see Shen Qingqiu biding his time by Luo Binghe’s sword mound, which provided at least some modicum of twisted comfort, but Yue Qingyuan’s letter had seemed somewhat urgent, so he’d hastily dressed and headed toward Qiong Ding, opting to walk rather than risk a Without a Cure flareup while flying.
Yue Qingyuan is waiting on the steps to the main hall when he arrives, hands held carefully behind his back and a familiar neutral smile on his face. “Shen-shidi, thank you for coming on such short notice. This one hopes you are keeping well in this weather.”
Shen Qingqiu bows in greeting and falls into step alongside the sect leader as they enter the hall. “Of course, Zhangmen-shixiong, and this master is fine. The walk over was brisk, but that helped rouse my senses.” The mention of walking causes Yue Qingyuan’s brow to twitch before smoothing over again. “May I ask what was so urgent as to send me a summons first thing in the morning? My disciple seemed distressed when she handed it to me.”
“Ah, I apologize for any inconvenience. It is not too urgent, but I thought a Shen-shidi would want to know as soon as possible so we might chart a course for how to move forward.”
“Know what?” Shen Qingqiu questioned, slowing his steps and turning to face the sect leader. “Has something gone wrong?”
Allowing himself to frown, Yue Qingyuan continues. “Does Shen-shidi remember a recent assignment during which he rescued a young man from drowning?” He pauses for a moment as Shen Qingqiu thinks.
“Yes, I’d been sent to oversee some disciples as they cleared out a hive of stinging nettles wasps from a town’s various barns, and a stable hand fell into the river while preparing our horses and carriage to leave. Calling it a rescue may be a bit of an exaggeration, as I only pulled him out.”
“I see,” Yue Qingyuan brings a hand up to tap his chin in consideration. “And does Shen-shidi remember a separate occasion when he assisted a young woman suffering from an unknown ailment, and later helped her locate a lost necklace of high importance to her?”
Confused and a bit annoyed by the line of questioning (what did he fill out those post-mission reports for if he was going to be made to recount the events in person anyway?), Shen Qingqiu clicks his tongue. “Yes, I do remember her. Sweet girl. It turned out that the lost necklace was actually a charm given to her by her grandmother to stave off a curse that had afflicted the women in their family for at least four generations, and her fiance had stolen it thinking he could pawn it to fund his gambling problem. She was fine as soon as we located and returned the necklace. Is there a point to Zhangmen-shixiong’s questions?”
“Indeed, Shen-shidi is right to ask. Come.” He beckons Shen Qingqiu to follow him, and they eventually enter a side room with nothing but a low table and some cushions, at which they sit. A Qiong Ding disciple brings in tea and accompanying snacks, though Shen Qingqiu seems to have lost his appetite in the last half-shichen. “Know that I do not raise these questions for no reason. Rather, it seems as though there may be something going on with the people Shen-shidi has assisted in recent months.”
Shen Qingqiu cocks his head. “‘Something going on?’”
“It seems,” Yue Qingyuan sighs, “as though various common folk who interacted with Shen-shidi in the last few months, including the two I mentioned earlier, have gone missing. The young man from the river was found dead.”
It takes a moment for Shen Qingqiu to process the words. Dead? This wasn’t in Proud Immortal Demon Way! There was no murder mystery plot until Luo Binghe was well into his time as emperor and the extended family members of one of his newest wives were turning up with their hearts ripped out. It had actually been a pretty interesting arc, with the reveal that it was the wife all along marking one of the few times a wife did something truly evil that would force a difficult moral choice onto Luo Binghe. Of course, the hack author had quickly undone any interesting character development for that wife when he’d revealed the murders only happened because she’d been possessed by some vengeful ghost who had a vendetta against her entire bloodline. The ghost obviously changed its tune when Luo Binghe worked his charms and found her corpse, allowing her to finally be at peace.
But that’s all besides the point! Because the point is that murder mystery plots shouldn’t just happen when there was no protagonist around to solve them! Who would console the mourning maidens and widows? Or defeat the vile killer in an epic but ultimately underwhelming sword fight?
This is illogical!
Yue Qingyuan’s everpresent smile starts to strain around the edges the longer Shen Qingqiu fails to respond, so he subtly shakes off his confusion and clears his throat. “How tragic…does Zhangmen-shixiong suspect foul play?”
The sect leader hums in confirmation, brows furrowed. “I’d like you to go investigate to see if this may be a coincidence—” the way he says the word ‘coincidence’ reaffirms Shen Qingqiu’s assessment that it’s probably anything but, “—but I’d like you to take Liu-shidi with you, just in case it ends up being something more sinister.”
It’s slightly bruising to his ego to hear that his sect leader isn’t confident in his abilities to handle a mission like this on his own, but he admits it makes sense. As the sect’s lead strategist and scholar, it’s only logical for him to investigate most mysterious circumstances, especially when there’s no clear tie to a monster or demon and therefore may require a stronger understanding of human behaviors, but it would be reckless to send Shen Qingqiu into an unknown situation without some backup given his affliction. So, he accepts the terms with only a little grumbling.
They take a shichen or so to plan out the details. Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge will travel to the town of the only known casualty by carriage so they might bring enough supplies to last a while should the investigation drag on or they need to extend their search elsewhere. When Liu Qingge arrives, evidently summoned at the same time as Shen Qingqiu but either more difficult to locate or less interested in ensuring punctuality, he agrees to the plan, no questions asked.
How irresponsible, shidi! You should at least ask for any information about potential dangers, don’t just take everything at face value!
They plan to leave the following morning, allowing both peak lords to prepare their disciples for their departure for an uncertain length of time. Ming Fan is perhaps a little too happy to hear that his shizun will be leaving the peak for once, but seems well equipped to handle peak business in his absence. He designates Ning Yingying, who’s grown to be quite reliable in the past two years, as Ming Fan’s deputy and instructs the both of them to work with the hall masters to carry out Shen Qingqiu’s only somewhat messily laid out lesson plan, which he’s prepared to last them for at least a month, just in case.
His other disciples, excited to see Shen Qingqiu donning his nicer robes while joining them for lunch, quickly lose their smiles when they learn he will be leaving with no specific return date. Still, they regain their spirits quickly, with some even telling him they’re so glad he’ll be getting outside rather than clinging to the Bamboo House’s grounds (as if he doesn’t frequently wander around the forests of Qing Jing or bide his time sitting beside Luo Binghe’s sword mound, which is very much outside!).
He has no idea what Liu Qingge does to prepare his peak, but he assumes it must be some weird battle royale ritual to determine who’s in charge while he’s gone. Bai Zhan tends to do just fine with their peak lord gone since it happens so frequently. Well, they do about as fine as Shen Qingqiu could possibly expect of a horde of near-feral teenagers with only a handful of adult disciples and hall masters around.
As he readies himself for sleep, it occurs to him that the System has been considerably quiet through all of this. Normally, such obvious quest-giving NPC behavior by someone like Yue Qingyuan would trigger a System prompt asking him to accept the quest, but no such prompt appeared.
System? He calls.
There’s a pregnant pause as he awaits the devilish thing’s response. It drags on long enough that a twinge of hope begins to swell in his chest, but that’s quickly extinguished when the familiarly unnatural text box pops into existence in front of him.
[Greetings, User! This System has been disconnected from its main power source, and has therefore entered hibernation mode (∪｡∪)｡｡｡zzz]
Shen Qingqiu frowns, clicking his tongue disappointedly. The system had notified him about this soon after the Immortal Alliance Conference, but he hadn’t paid much attention to it then, being otherwise distracted, and in the years since it hadn’t really occurred to him to question it. Why look a gift horse in the mouth, after all? If the system was going to tie its own hands, who was he, a humble transmigrator, to stop it from doing so? Plus, he hadn’t really come across any situations that might’ve required the system’s ‘guidance’ since then anyway. The closest might have been that succubus situation with Liu Qingge, but they’d managed that well enough. Now, faced with such an obviously out of place side quest, he feels compelled to seek details.
Then how am I talking to you right now?
[Answering User, you are conversing with this System’s AI assistant {Beta 2.0 Version}. Until reconnected to the power source, the System will remain in low power mode and be unable to conduct normal functions. In its place, the AI assistant will do its best to assist User with any questions!]
Wait, does that mean no point deductions? No quests? It would suck if nothing he’d done in the last two years had earned any B-Points, since he was hoping to stock up in case he was given the chance to purchase pain killers during the human-stickifying process or something, but it would be great if he couldn’t lose points either.
[Although the System is unable to issue typical notifications associated with {Points} or {Quests}, it retains its tracking function and will notify User of any updates once it exits hibernation.]
Damn. Well, it was worth a try. Hopefully this quest Yue Qingyuan is sending him on won’t need an easy mode or require him to spend any B-Points when he can’t replenish them.
Okay, then what’s the power source?
If he knows what powers the system, maybe he can figure out how to work around it, maybe even blackmail it if he gets his hopes up.
Of course, his hopes are immediately dashed.
[Power Source: {Luo Binghe - Protagonist ᕦ(ò_ó)ᕤ}. Reconnecting with the power source will allow User to access normal System functions.]
Great.
It’s been just about two years since the IAC, so that meant at least another three until he would reunite with Luo Binghe, who would be in his full-power Demon Emperor/Huan Hua Palace Master form while he marched Shen Qingqiu to the metaphorical gallows.
Taking that into consideration, it is unlikely this new quest would turn out to be anything special. Probably there would be some rogue demon hunting down prey and it just so happens to be following a similar path to Shen Qingqiu, since the main rule of this universe is nothing makes logical sense because everything is meant to further the plot so more papapa can take place. Or perhaps this is the backstory setup for some longer arc that Luo Binghe would come across years down the line on the way to gather a wife or two. Either way, Shen Qingqiu feels markedly less worried knowing these factors, and he calmly prepares himself for bed.
✧✦✧✦✧
He dreams of eyes.
Red, red eyes, surrounding him, staring at him, hunting him down in any room he flees to, tracking his every move, his every twitch.
The eyes are accompanied by an oppressive feeling of anxiety, as though he’s been warned someone was lurking outside his window, and yet there is no one there when he goes to check. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge as his flesh becomes dotted with goosebumps.
As he wanders around a nightmarish version of his own bamboo house, this one with hallways that span miles and rooms with melting furniture, the eyes never leave him.
Sometimes, they seem to be attached to someone, or something, but Shen Qingqiu can never make out more than a shadow.
✧✦✧✦✧
He wakes up with aching limbs, a mental fog that dulls his senses, and no recollection of his dreams other than an uneasy feeling. For a second he worries it's some sort of disease or poison, but then remembers that he’s already suffering from a chronic illness caused by Without a Cure, and this is likely just another flareup.
Luckily for him Liu Qingge had planned to meet him at the Bamboo House so they could go over logistics before heading down the mountain, so his resident meridian-cleanser should show up soon. In the meantime, he groggily goes about his morning routine, washing his face, oiling and combing his hair, moving around the food on the plate of breakfast someone had left outside his door knowing he would be departing early. He stores some potentially relevant texts and talismans in a qiankun pouch and leaves a few more notes for Ming Fan before settling at the low table in the center of his living space to wait for his shidi.
Liu Qingge arrives moments later, entering the house with as little decorum as usual. He frowns immediately upon seeing Shen Qingqiu’s peaky countenance. “Without a Cure?” He asks, not bothering to wait for an answer before kneeling behind Shen Qingqiu and beginning to cleanse his meridians, a process as familiar to them both now as breathing.
“Mn, thank you Liu-shidi. As soon as you’re finished, we can get going.”
“Perhaps we should postpone a day,” Liu Qingge responds, sliding his hands down Shen Qingqiu’s back to target his lower dantian.
“And risk another person dying for the crime of interacting with me? Surely not.”
He can practically feel Liu Qingge’s glare at his dismissal, but he doesn’t push about delaying their journey. “You are not the cause of this. It is likely a demon, or some curse.”
“I know, I know, but I still feel somewhat responsible, so I’d rather not allow anything else to happen, if only to protect my conscience.”
Liu Qingge’s palms finally withdraw, bringing with them the steady stream of his warming qi and leaving Shen Qingqiu feeling a tad bereft. Now in agreement, they gather themselves up and begin their journey without further fanfare.
✧✦✧✦✧
Having visited the town before, Shen Qingqiu is not surprised to find they are greeted by a small garrison of onlookers despite the late hour at which they’ve arrived. They must now be familiar with the symbol of Cang Qiong emblazoned across the side of the vehicle. The town’s unofficial leader greets them as they exit, embarrassingly offering a hand to assist Shen Qingqiu down (he is no fragile maiden, why must everyone treat him like one? Liu Qingge even scoffs at it! Thank you, shidi, for recognizing this odd trend). They follow the man, named Li Heng if Shen Qingqiu recalls properly, into the town’s (really more of a village) only inn. One of the women working there rushes to seat them, and another soon brings tea and refreshments, blushing as she bows to the cultivators.
Hm, perhaps she is interested in Liu Qingge! Now that the man isn’t dead before the narrative even started, he could pursue a relationship heretofore un-pursued! Of course, he would be risking the wrath of Luo Binghe if this woman was ever meant to become part of the harem. Though cute, she seemed of middling enough beauty to avoid such a fate, so there was still a chance. Still, perhaps he should get between them, just in case he was forgetting some plot point associated with this location.
“Thank you, xiaojie,” he says, smiling warmly at the girl while subtly angling himself between her and Liu Qingge. “We won’t require any other service tonight. In fact, if you wouldn’t mind ensuring we have a bit of privacy, that would be most appreciated.”
The girl’s eyes widen a fraction and a soft blush bursts onto her cheeks. She nods hastily, gaze flitting between Shen Qingqiu and his martial brother before she bows and backs out of the room quietly. Poor girl, she’s probably never been around cultivators before since he hadn’t noticed her during his first visit and she seemed quite young.
“Li-xiangzhang, we appreciate the welcome, but I fear my fellow peak lord and I are here on rather distressing business.” Li Heng seems momentarily shocked to hear his name, as if he thought Shen Qingqiu would’ve forgotten it in the few weeks since they’d met. Sir, Shen Qingqiu is no common ruffian! He remembers names!
Li Heng sighs, a wispy melancholy casting a shadow across his thin face. “Yes, ah, I expect about Wang Chun?”
Assuming that to be the name of the young man in question, Shen Qingqiu nods. He attempts to maintain an air of confidence, but the idea of investigating a dead body always leaves him a bit queasy. “Indeed. We are investigating a series of disappearances with an illogical connection. Wang Chun is the first to be found, in any regard. Might we see the, erm, scene?”
“Of course. Please, follow me, gongzis.”
They do, and are led briskly to what appears to be a barn of some kind. It’s quite shabby, especially compared to the well-maintained structures at Cang Qiong, but the rotting wood seems at least somewhat patched over, and the roof has no obvious holes. “Ah, if the gongzis don’t mind, this one will allow them to proceed on their own. Wang Chun is inside here. Please find me at the tavern if either of you need anything.”
Liu Qingge waves the man off, somewhat rudely in Shen Qingqiu’s opinion, but he doesn’t bother to scold his shidi when the smell of rotting flesh suddenly wafts toward them from an open window a few steps away. Together they approach the barn doors, Liu Qingge with a hand on Cheng Luan’s hilt, just in case. Shen Qingqiu tentatively slides the door open, and the scent’s strength increases threefold. He gags, bringing his sleeve up to cover his nose and feeling inferior as Liu Qingge charges forward without pretense.
“Ah, shidi, wait! Be careful not to disturb anything!” Liu Qingge scoffs but halts to wait for Shen Qingqiu to catch up.
At the center of the large room is a body.
It’s…
Well, it’s barely recognizable at all.
The skin of both arms has been peeled back from the muscle from wrist to elbow, leaving the sinew and veins exposed to the stale air. The face is totally mutilated: around half a dozen cuts through the cheeks expose the man’s teeth and slack jaw, one eye is cut straight through, and blood covers it all in drying flakes. Somehow, the area immediately around the body is bloodless.
Shen Qingqiu approaches slowly, making sure not to step on anything potentially important. When he takes a good look, it becomes clear that the lack of blood stems from the fact that the wounds were mostly made post-mortem, save for a fatal slice across the jugular. The skin is pallid with blood loss, so the murder must have happened in another location, then the killer brought the body here after. None of the cuts are particularly precise, either, looking more like something haphazardly swiped at the skin with claws or a dull blade rather than a steady, measured hand. Aside from the arms and face, the body seems relatively uninjured, so he carefully rolls it onto its side with Liu Qingge’s help, finds nothing of note, and returns it to its original position.
Having assessed the injuries and found nothing pointing to a definitive culprit, meaning demon, monster, or human, Shen Qingqiu closes his eyes and searches for a spiritual signature.
Curiously, the body completely lacks any foreign qi of any kind. If this had been a random attack by a beast or monster, there would be remnants of its energy, especially if it was demonic in nature. The fact that there isn’t a trace of anything combined with the clear obfuscation of the original crime scene by relocating the body automatically makes him sure this is much more serious than they might’ve hoped.
Liu Qingge, who until now had been searching and clearing the rest of the barn unless Shen Qingqiu asked for his help, comes to stand beside the body, arms crossed over his chest and a single brow raised. “Definitely dead.”
Despite the horror of the situation, Shen Qingqiu can’t bite back an amused chuff. “Yes, Liu-shidi. How astute. Wang Chun was certainly murdered, since someone went to the trouble of covering up their qi signature incredibly thoroughly. Still…I can’t understand why someone would do this to him. He seemed sweet when I met him before.”
As he helps Shen Qingqiu stand from where he’d been crouched beside the body, Liu Qingge looks him straight in the eyes. “Some people are too sweet for their own good. He must’ve caught the wrong sort of attention.”
Ah, Liu-shidi, why must you sound so confident and smooth when you say something lacking any real evidence!
“Anyway, since we haven’t found anything conclusive here we should begin questioning the townsfolk. Even if this was a person’s doing, they are clearly dangerous, and motivated, so we should warn and send an update to Zhangmen-shixiong as well.”
“Mn,” Liu Qingge eloquently agrees, already walking toward the exit. “You should rest, let us return to the inn.” Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes. If you’re tired just say so, Liu-shidi! No need to blame it on your martial brother just because he’s ill.
Nonetheless, they do retire. They first spend half a shichen speaking to the innkeeper, who had nothing helpful to say as the only visitors that have come through her establishment in the last month are them and a few familiar merchants who pass through frequently enough to be recognized but not frequently enough to develop the sort of grudge needed to inspire a crime this brutal. Of course, it’s possible one of the passersthrough was crazy enough to do so, but it would be better to focus the search inside the town for now.
Their rooms are adjacent to one another, so they ascend the stairs together and part ways at their respective doors, agreeing to start their interviews in earnest at dawn. The thought of waking up so early makes Shen Qingqiu want to cry, but Liu Qingge would never settle for starting an investigation at a time that's convenient over a time that's earlier, so he submits to the suffering.
When he enters his room, he’s surprised to find a warm bath already drawn for him. He’d considered asking the innkeeper to have someone prepare one so he could sooth the aches that always linger after a flareup and the tension brought on by travel, but had decided against it. She must’ve been able to read his exhaustion on his face, despite his immortal appearance. Well, again, Shen Qingqiu isn’t one to question lovely surprises, so he luxuriates in the bath for a while until his fingers start to prune.
He’s even more surprised to find a set of overly soft sleep robes carefully laid out on his bed and fresh flowers placed in a vase on a nearby table. What stellar hospitality! Or perhaps he’d smiled a bit too long at the serving girl from earlier?
Not that it matters. He gratefully dons the silky cloth and settles down to rest, blowing out the candles around the room with a quick burst of qi before falling instantly into a deep sleep.
✧✦✧✦✧
They spend the entire next day questioning villagers. Shen Qingqiu is really the one doing all the questioning, honestly. Liu Qingge usually just stands a half-step behind him and glares intimidatingly.
They start with the men, and when that proves fruitless they move onto the women, then, a bit desperately, to the children. They talk to everyone—the farmhands, the storekeeps, the laundrymaids, the street peddlers. None of it unveils anything of use toward identifying the killer.
What they learn is that Wang Chun was an ordinary young man from an ordinary family. He’d been making his living working in the stable of one of the wealthier (as wealthy as one could really be living in such a small, oft ignored village) families, and gave the majority of his income to his mother in order to support his four younger siblings. The entire family was devastated by the news, and had been nigh on inconsolable when Shen Qingqiu approached their dwelling with a solemn face and laundry list of questions. Still, they’d done their best to guide his search, scrounging up every bit of possible motive they could think of. Last year Wang Chun had argued with his coworker over who worked what days, a month ago he’d been chewed out by the innkeep for playfully chasing after her daughter and causing the girl to dirty her nicest dress, last week he’d been bragging around town about his interaction with this very Shen Qingqiu, apparently fawning over the way a cultivator had heroically stepped into save him and spinning some tale about the sage advice he’d received (for his part, Shen Qingqiu does not remember giving any ‘sage’ advice aside from don’t go falling into rivers if you can’t swim).
All of it is context, but it isn’t quite useful context. After all, it’s not like some muddied skirts or a year-old shift-dispute would drive most people to partially flay their neighbor. They go through the motions of pursuing those leads, but find nothing, as expected.
Another two days pass while they speak with villagers and reexamine the barn, but no new evidence comes to light. Shen Qingqiu is at his wits end. When Yue Qingyuan gave him this assignment, Shen Qingqiu had truly believed it would be quickly solved, and now he’s tearing his hair out looking for anyone who could have done such a horrific thing. He knows he isn’t as intelligent or cunning as the original goods, whose own wicked nature likely would have allowed him to figure out the murderer in no time at all, but he doesn’t think he’s stupid. He’s at least competent enough that no one on Qing Jing has questioned his mental faculties post the OG good’s qi deviation!
That evening, Liu Qingge knocks on his door in his usually gruff way, then enters without an invitation.
“Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu admonishes, “what if I’d been changing? Knocking is a good improvement on kicking down the door, but it’s still useless if you just enter immediately before the person inside can tell you to come in.”
A furious blush overtakes his shidi’s face, making Shen Qingqiu giggle despite his exhaustion over their lack of progress. Liu Qingge joins him at the table in the room, eyeing the bath in the corner suspiciously. “You had them draw you a bath?”
“Ah, it’s been prepared before I return each night, for which I’m thankful even though I didn’t request it. But…don’t tell me they haven’t done the same for you! How rude.”
Liu Qingge dismisses his concern, but continues to stare at the bath. “You should not bathe in mysteriously appearing water. If you wish to bathe, I will fetch water for you instead.”
Mm, a bit paranoid, but there is a murderer running around. “You’re probably right. Better to be safe than sorry. Don’t worry about bringing me water, though, I have no need for it, at least for now.” His accidental use of such a modern proverb makes Liu Qingge stare at him with awe. Oops.
“Shen-shixiong is wise as always.”
Shen Qingqiu flicks open his fan to cover his smile. Liu Qingge should save such compliments for lovely maidens, not waste them on his friend.“No need for flattery, you’re already my favorite shidi. Now, shall we discuss next steps?”
The flush coloring Liu Qingge’s cheeks persists throughout the rest of their debrief.