Chapter Text
There was something to be said about a world created by an author. Even an author as… lacking as Shen Yuan had found Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky to be had managed to create quite the setting for all the characters it had to hold. There were foods and customs catered to, four seasons, an array of arts and music. There were great houses and bustling markets. There was a university.
And drama. Just. So much.
One wouldn’t think a story centered around a proper Sherlock Holmes-esque mystery would play out like a soap opera. Shen Yuan himself had been whiplashed from time to time, wanting to know the intrigue and being deepthroated by love triangles to do so. Well one love triangle in particular, and if there ever was a time to curse Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky for his shitty writing, it was now.
Stupid novel, stupid author!
Shen Yuan clapped his cheeks a few times, glaring down his reflection in the mirror. Of course it would be the most enraging novel he’d read that he would be transmigrated into. Of course it would be the most foolish character to claim his face!
Which was a bit surprising, come to think of it. Surely he should look more like… what the author intended? But the plain, drawn face was his own, the eyes the same shade of boring brown they’d always been. Honestly, the only change was longer hair to fit the “historical” feel of the setting, but while a cascade of black framing his cheeks definitely went a way to making him look different from the short hair he’d sported on his death, there was still no denying it was his face. His eyes, his ears. His thin hands, his moles, the mark under his lip. Even his soft body had survived to taunt him.
He’d always known Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky was a hack. The Magistrate had always been just a fool, flung along by the wooing of his Advisor and the scheming of a Lawyer. Hell, the stupid author hadn’t even named this character properly! The injustice!
Upon arriving in this world - Panhe County, his mind had supplied bitterly - Shen Yuan had awoken with a fierce jolt in a carriage. Bouncing along in a mess of limbs and robes, he’d come to the unfortunate conclusion that if this was a dream, it was a painful one, and not one to escape.
The traveling documents hadn’t been signed. His name was just written as Magistrate or Your Honor. And now, with a proper mirror before him, he didn’t even have a different face.
What a hack show.
Shen Yuan ran his hands down his cheeks, taking in the fine robes and topknot. Well, half knot. It seemed that Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky only went in for true historical accuracy insomuch as what looked good. And despite everything, Shen Yuan had to admit he looked good. Really good.
His robes were white with a silvery blue detailing along the trim and neckline. Shen Yuan didn’t know much about hanfu, but even the embroidery felt expensive. As fitting for a Magistrate, he supposed. A fur shawl accompanied the ensemble, snowy and as soft as down. It was easy to strike a regal pose in the clothes and he ran his hands over the layers like they were armor, his only defense in this strange new world.
Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky may have had questionable tastes in characters, but his sense of fashion was on point.
Shen Yuan huffed and turned a slow circle before the mirror, feeling the weight of the robes moving against his body. It was a surreal feeling, but a grounding one. He could feel this. It was real. He really was being forced into this.
Well then. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky half assed everything. Shen Yuan would not follow in his footsteps.
He took the documents and signed them carefully, an odd thrill filling his heart that he could use his own name, ridiculous as it was. It was still who he was and with a character so baseless, it would be easy to survive. Well, until he met his antagonist, of course.
Shen Qingqiu.
He frowned as he thought of the name’s characters. He’d always found it oddly amusing that Shen Qingqiu and he had the same surname. He looked down at the documents he’d signed, wondering if he should try to change it, then thought better of it. It was a common enough last name and, moreover, it would no doubt irritate the famous lawyer. Anything he could do to get a step up on the bad guy was a chance he had to take, no matter how petty.
He looked at the mirror once more, smoothing down the fur on his shoulders and playing with the unfamiliar long black strands falling down his front. For a moment, he just stood as he would in his own room at home, slightly slouched, glassy eyed, going nowhere. Then he straightened, his face falling into impassiveness, his body taking on a regal bearing. Here was not the young man with no future, just waiting around to die. This was a magistrate with purpose and command, who knew where he headed into. Because he did know. He’d finished that dreadful book and it was just awful enough to never forget. One point in its favor.
“This one is Magistrate Shen,” he announced to his reflection, bowing his head with grace like he’d seen in his favorite xianxia dramas. He practiced a few gestures, walked the room and postured, and when the coachman came back to collect him, he almost felt ready to face what was coming. Ready enough. He’d have to be.
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Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had laid the novel out like this: an earnest, but otherwise forgettable Magistrate began his new tenure in Panhe County. Advising him was the peerless and most eligible Yue Qingyuan, a man of gentle nature and compassionate mind. Attached to him like an unseemly wart was one of the most feared and reputable lawyers of Panhe, Shen Qingqiu, who was known for his competitive and combative nature.
A mystery rose, forcing the Magistrate to start being clever. This sign of character from the bland man of course had the otherwise well put together Yue Qingyuan salivating. Confessions of love, of devotion, of loyalty. All that garbage. Which of course set off the final point to the triangle, Shen Qingqiu who was none too happy that he man he loved was fawning over someone so stupid.
Shen Yuan couldn’t even blame him for that one. The Magistrate, while the leading man so to speak, had been so obviously used as an instrument of drama induction he’d mostly skimmed over the areas the Magistrate had parts in. Not that the love drama was any better, but there was only so much Mary-Sue syndrome Shen Yuan could take!
And now he was that Mary-Sue. A blessing then that he was basically himself in this world. That meant he would, on no terms, allow Yue Qingyuan to slobber on him. Perhaps that wouldn’t save him from Shen Qingqiu’s ire, but it may alter the side plots enough that he could get to the juicy stuff: i.e. the mystery itself.
He had many faults with Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky, but the mystery the man had managed to write out had been genuinely interesting. Part of why he’d been so hateful of it at the end. The mystery hadn’t been the beating heart, but the sideline. All the author - and his fans - had cared about was the drama.
Shen Yuan set his jaw as the carriage bumped to a stop. Oh, the drama. There had been so much. Would be so much. Did he have the patience to live through it a second time? Perhaps Shen Qingqiu wouldn't even be able to kill him. The stupid drama would do it outright!
No, he had to do this. If finishing the plot meant getting home, he had no choice. And if this was just… it for him, then finishing the plot would mean more plots to come. He was a magistrate, after all, and that meant being Sherlock Holmes for a living.
He rubbed his palms together gleefully. He was the protagonist now. He could make this story about what he wanted! Let Shen Qingqiu have his man. Shen Yuan was here to live out a fantasy life solving riddles. And they’d pay him to do it! He nearly cackled to himself just thinking about it, but shoved it aside when he heard footsteps, taking on his new Magistrate Face.
The door opened and he was helped down. Snow landed on his hair and lashes, turning brown on the road. He was quickly ushered onto the Courthouse walkway to spare his robes. He could hear the murmurings of people all around him and held his head high. Every step was careful, graceful, and inwardly he cheered when he made it through the gates without tripping.
And there, standing so elegantly in steely blues and blacks, was Yue Qingyuan. He was a full head taller than Shen Yuan with a strong build and wide shoulders, a handsome face and dark, doey eyes. Despite the breeze and snow, not a hair or layer was out of place, and when he bowed, it was fluid and serene like a dance. Then he smiled sweetly, so sweetly that Shen Yuan had to squint at him, he shined so brightly. Truly, a romance hero unlike any other!
“Your Honor, this one is so glad to see you’ve arrived safely,” he said and even his voice sounded kind. Low and smooth, a little soft. A perfection of a man, really. If Shen Yuan didn’t know all the dirt on him, perhaps he would’ve wanted to swoon? Thankfully, he didn’t feel the urge.
He bowed his head back and gestured with his arm for the man to lead on. It was a guess of a gesture, but Yue Qingyuan didn’t even hesitate. If anything, his smile got brighter. Shen Yuan did his best not to squint again.
“It is good to be here, Advisor Yue,” Shen Yuan tried his new Magistrate Voice, an even, far too politically correct tone. The approval on Yue Qingyuan’s face made him dance inside. Not that he showed it. First Magistrate words, success! Now to just mess up the rest.
He fell into step with him, listening to Yue Qingyuan go on and on about the place, his duties, and what had been done to prepare for his arrival. To his surprise, it was straight out of the book, like Yue Qingyuan was an actor who’d rehearsed his lines perfectly. Excellent then, he thought. At least some things would be easy to see coming. Or so he hoped.
Considering what Shen Qingqiu got up to in the novel, Shen Yuan’s life very much could be on the line. That meant exploiting every advantage he could get.
A door slid open and Yue Qingyuan gestured him inside. An office, plain but obviously well kept, greeted Shen Yuan with a warm crackling fire and the strong smell of paper and ink.
“This Advisor has taken on current cases as we waited for your arrival,” Yue Qingyuan was still talking, it seemed, and Shen Yuan turned back to look at him as though he was still listening aptly. “Would Your Honor like me to keep working on them until you get more settled?”
Shen Yuan considered that. On the one hand, it would mean being busy and getting into some riddles early on. But one thing he’d learned about jumping the plot too early was that it spoiled the book and led to too many avenues for stupid romance subplots. Or maybe that was just Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky.
Taking the cases now meant Yue Qingyuan’s continued presence, he remembered. The romance hadn’t fully started so early in the novel, but the foundations for Shen Qingqiu’s jealousy were definitely paved. Late nights alone with the most heroic love interest? Hard pass.
On the other hand, if he didn’t take the cases, it meant he could take the time to acquaint himself with this new world, his household and, more than likely, the villain himself who was due to come calling. It would mean breaking from the book already, but he couldn’t deny he was curious and definitely didn’t need Yue Qingyuan fawning on him.
“You may take the cases, Advisor Yue,” he decided and bowed his head in gratitude. “This Magistrate leaves them to your capable hands until I can get more settled.”
“Of course, Your Honor,” Yue Qingyuan blessedly took that as a cue to take up the cases and leave the room. The first quest passed with flying colors.
“I really do have the power,” Shen Yuan said in awe, looking down at his hands and wiggling his fingers. A grin crossed his face. A little win, but a good win. He wiggled in place, fine robes swaying, then punched the air. “Take that Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky!”
There was a creak at the doorway, his only warning before the door slid open with a clack. He quickly turned, Magistrate Face firmly on, though his greeting died on his tongue seeing the man that slunk in.
In the novel, he’d been described as handsome. Line upon line of prose had been dedicated to this fact, yet somehow Shen Yuan was still surprised by the sheer beauty before him. Resplendent in green robes trimmed with black fur, his dark hair falling down his back in a curtain, his eyes sharp as flints, the man took in Shen Yuan like he was every vile thing that ever deigned to crawl out of a sewer drain and Shen Yuan would still thank him for saying so. Like he could read that thought, a soft snort left a perfect nose, then a fan snapped open.
“So,” said Shen Qingqiu in a voice that made him shiver, “you’re the new Magistrate? So young? Beardless too?” The smile on his face could cut glass. Shen Yuan had to remind himself not to step back from that calculating gaze. “Definitely not what I was expecting.”
His bow was perfect, so perfect it was clearly an insult, and Shen Yuan swallowed hard as he copied the gesture.
Unfortunately, his mind supplied in despair when their eyes locked, you are exactly what I was expecting.