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Chapter Text

As he looks up at the almost-full blue and white marbled bowling ball suspended in the dark, dark space, Shen Yuan cannot help but think dying from choking on expired noodles is almost worth it. Alright, it was messy and humiliating and he will never be not fucking mad about it, but…

But the Earth-rise.

Earth just looks so blue , such a vivid outremer in black space, clouded with pristine white. It looks like a Christmas ornament, the kind people break out of carelessness and cry over, all lonely in its colorfulness within the void, and Shen Yuan just can’t believe he once lived there.

It’s so small and yet, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of mankind lived there – on this blue marble he could hold in his hand.

Since he has been reborn – and wasn’t that a dizzy, why didn’t he got the forgetfulness soup, knowing his shitty luck some underworld cleric made a mistake in the schedule – sitting in the garden to watch this pale blue dot slowly climbing out in the horizon is his new favorite moment of the day.

His family occasionally went to gape at the Moon rising, when they had time and they felt into the mood. Meimei always bemoaned about not being an astronaut, feeling it was boring to merely sigh at some country instead of visiting in person.

She would go green from envy if she could see her san-ge right now, Shen Yuan wistfully muses as he lays down in a soft embrace. He can feel a hum behind him, his back vibrating from the woman’s breathing.

His mother in this new life also really enjoys Earth-gazing. She’s the one who introduced him to it, actually.

Shen Yuan isn’t complaining. And all these layers of silk robes are very comfortable as she puts his physically four-year-old self on her lap when they’re doing it.

Sometimes she will hum lullabies or poetry, most of the time she won’t say anything in order to fully appreciate the spectacle. Sometimes she’s in a storytelling mood, and today is one of these days.

« Once upon a time » she begins and her voice is smooth as the glassy surface of a pond under the moonlight, « there was a skilled archer, and he and his wife were very much in love with each other. »

Shen Yuan scrunches his nose. Please not a romance, it’s icky.

« When he heard about the Lord Archer’s prowess with the bow and arrow, King Yao commanded for him to go and slay the sun birds, for these beasts refused to heed his wisdom and were about to scorch the world in their flames. And the archer kowtowed and said the King would be obeyed. »

Not a romance after all. It’s much better.

« And so he went, to find the sun birds and beseech them to have mercy on the world, for he was a man who didn’t enjoy killing if he could avoid it. But the birds refused to listen, and so he pretended to shoot at them for intimidation. Still they wouldn’t hear his warnings, and he began to shoot them one by one, until a single three-legged crow was left. »

Shen Yuan gives a small kick with his right leg.

« Did he shoot this one too, a-Niang ? » he asks in spite of already knowing the answer – obviously there’s a sun shining down on Earth.

« King Yao and the sun’s mother, the noble lady Xihe, bade him to spare the surviving sun for the prosperity of mankind. But for his great service to the gods and the men, they offered to grant him immortality. The archer accepted if only his wife could ascend to the Heavens with him, and his wish was granted. »

Again with the romance. This story is nothing but a see-saw, why can’t it choose between its genres ?

« He went home, and showed to his beloved the pills of immortality he had won, but he just needed to go on a last hunt and settle his estate before consuming it. And while he was away... »

Her voice grows even softer, almost a whisper.

« The Lord Archer has an apprentice, and he was envious of his master’s talent with the bow. When he heard of the great reward that the gods had bestowed on the sun-slayer, his heart’s demons raised their hideous strength within him, and he broke into his master’s house to threaten his master’s wife. Give them to me , he screamed, give me the pills of immortality or I will gut you like the sow you are ... »

Ah, Shen Yuan already heard this story, didn’t he ? Not exactly this way, not exactly this same story, but the characters, the bare bones of the plot…

« And she couldn’t let such a man stealing another, more righteous one’s reward, but she couldn’t fight him either, and so the woman did something awful. »

« What was that ? »

« She ate both pills, hers and her husband’s. And as she ascended to the Heavens where the apprentice couldn’t reach her, she threw a long, last look at the world… and she saw her beloved alone on the road home, and she knew she would never touch him again. »

Her breathing hiccups.

« No matter how much she tried to go back afterwards... »

Shen Yuan squirms, but without any energy. He just wants to express his disapproval with this ending.

« This is sad , a-Niang » he complains.

« All stories cannot end on a happy note, Yuan’er. »

« Well, they should . This one should  » he insists with all the tyranny of a pampered, spoiled little emperor. « Now you’re sad, and that’s because of this stupid story. »

His second mother’s laugh makes him shiver, wrapping him in the snowy freshness of its silvery chimes.

« How could I be sad, when Yuan’er is with me ? My little moondrop. »

« Not little . I am going to grow up and up and I will be so big I will have to sit on the roof  » he boasts.

She laughs, aware that he’s completely ridiculous. As long as she’s laughing, he can take it.

« Alright then. But not today, your bed isn’t large enough for this size and I have no time for ordering another. »

Shen Yuan happily hums as the blue and white Earth is almost reaching above their heads.

« Not today » he concedes as if it was a really huge deal, and receives a kiss on the head.

It’s weird to have so much hair now, and snowy white, but when you’re living on the Moon, you don’t really give a damn about looking weird.

Chapter Text

In his previous life, Shen Yuan was a hopelessly useless spoiled brat and as such very grateful to the servants his parents were wealthy enough to pay in order to ensure their disappointment of a third son wouldn’t have to worry about dressing or feeding himself. The servants might have liked him in turn, at least he certainly hopes so – there’s still the possibility they were too polite or too enamored with their wages to hint at the contrary, but until someone explicitely tells him, he’s going to see a glass half-full.

In his current life, Shen Yuan still is a hopelessly useless spoiled brat but this time, he has the slightest chance to grow out of it. Maybe. His mother needs to give him her blessing to run around and explore for all manners of beasts and monsters, and since he’s now a freaking toddler it’s not going to happen tomorrow. Oh, well.

In the meantime, he lets the servants fuss over his clothes and feed him and ask him how he’s doing, just like he did in his previous life, but now with rabbits instead of humans. Because obviously they’re rabbits – he’s living on the Moon !

Not your garden variety of rabbits, though ; they’re slightly bigger than Shen Yuan, from the size of a healthy six-year-old kid, they can walk on two legs and use their paws as hands, and they can talk. Also, they’re fluffy. So fluffy, Shen Yuan could and does spend hours cuddling them. He’s sure one of them is picked every morning to be on cuddling the young master duty, and he very much wants to grossly sob from ecstasy because they’re. Just. So. Fluffy.

Even da-ge would have lost his shit over the softness of their fur, and da-ge hated everything cute. Seriously, he had a printed t-shirt proclaiming him the ambassador of uncute, and he just wouldn’t stop despairing in front of meimei’s love for pink and ponies, calling her a walking stereotype for girliness.

She made a point wearing pink and My Little Pony accessories when he was at home. Younger sisters are nothing but petty razorblades wrapped in cotton candy – don’t declare war on them, you will lose every shred of dignity. Shen Yuan speaks from experience.

Anyway, the rabbits. A small tribe of them, even if the Fragrant Palace – Shen Yuan’s home in this life – only hired two of them when he was a baby but what a surprise, these rabbits were breeding like fucking rabbits , and barely four years later the Fragrant Palace could boast two cooks, one intendant, three gardners, two laundresses, two chambermaids, one librarian, a nanny, two messengers, four game keepers tending to the fishes and birds living in the various ponds and trees surrounding the Palace, a handyman, three cleaners, two secretaries and a hallboy. And except for the cooks – they were one of the gardners’ older sisters, Wei Wei had begged for them to be hired since she was much happier focusing on her vegetables plot and the dishes they served were nothing short of mind-blowing, literally fit for gods so everyone was happy – and the two shameless natality-promoting sex fiends responsible for this population boom – the aforementioned Wei Wei and the intendant, you wouldn’t know from looking at him that he could even have sex but first impressions were lying bitches – every single one of these rabbits was younger than Shen Yuan.

Seriously, it was weird to look at people you had seen toddling their first steps barely two weeks ago shoving a report under your nose to explain the carps needed to be fed less or they would become lazy and easy prey for the cranes. So freaking weird and so fucking unfair, why was Shen Yuan condemned to grow up at the normal rate for a mundane, lowly human ? He just wanted to not have to suffer several years of puberty, damnit ! And for the second time !

Hugging fluffy rabbits really help with his despair regarding his unfairly slow growing up. Especially because their embrace almost engulfs him, small as he is. If he was bigger, it wouldn’t be that encompassing.

His most frequent victim for cuddling is a-Ying, which is logical since she’s his nanny. Still, he holds a treacherous fondness for a-Yan, one of the cooks who really, really enjoys confectioning treats and as a consequence smells of almonds and sugar, and for Wen Wen the littlest messenger whose bluish white and grey fur is the longest in the household, so long he could braid it.

The only one he won’t hug is Tu’er Ye, the intendant, because he suffers from such a nasty case of resting bitch face syndrome. That’s not very kind from Shen Yuan, the guy does his best to keep the Fragrant Palace running and he’s doing it flawlessly, but this face . You cannot help but feel judged. By a rabbit . How can a rabbit look so disappointed by everything you are and did and stand for, huh ? You’re supposed to be nice and sweet and harmless, not be a fucking weapon of moral-demolition !

Da-ge would probably love him for embodying the massive subversion of cute little rabbits everywhere, and meimei would cry tears of blood over the walking tragedy of such a mean-looking bunny. That’s probably for the best that Shen Yuan was the Shen sibling picked for reincarnation in this fantastic new universe, even if er-ge would argue against it. But er-ge never liked anything but murder tales, so Shen Yuan is pretty sure he wouldn’t have been happy no matter the bunny cuteness degree involved.

Among the rabbits, Hong’er really looks incongruous, just as much as a cat in a flock of pigeons.

Hong’er is very much human-like, if you doesn’t mind the ghost-white skin with a scarlet birthmark spreading on his right eye (that gives him some hanged ghost allure) and the subtle shine of tiny scales all over his hands and face and the fact that he’s a fucking giant, two hundreds thirteen centimeters at the least and built almost as large. He would terrify anyone.

He’s also a complete sap who sinks into depression when his favorite haitang tree is covered with more white flowers than pink ones or when the goldfishes in a particular pond die – which happens far too often, but since when are goldfishes sturdy ? Er-ge killed a dozen of them and only lost any hope of keeping one alive when the current one went belly-up in his plastic bag right as he was bringing it home.

His shoulders are very comfortable to ride on, and his wide callused hands extremely gentle. He’s a real-life Hagrid from Harry Potter and it’s awesome.

Well, he would rather kill Divine Beasts than taming them, but nobody’s perfect.

Chapter Text

So there’s the thing, dying and joining the wheel of reincarnation to be reborn in the Heavens as the son of the Moon Goddess herself means living in a xianxia setting. And just because you’re living in the Divine Realm, this isn’t a guarantee of a peaceful existence.

Shen Yuan learned this when he looked out of the window and saw Hong’er fighting a big-ass white tiger. Seriously, the beast could have served as an omnibus, it was so fucking huge a dozen of people could have sit atop its back and they would have been comfortable.

When his little legs finally carried him to the garden, Hong’er had strangled the tiger with his bare hands, right after beating it stupid with his shovel – because he went to help Wei Wei with planting radishes today. So. Fucking. Badass.

Dude was quite cheered by the servants for this – because moon rabbits are just as much of a prey species as their mortal and infernal cousins on Earth and in the Underworld, so other beasts with a much higher placement on the food chain won’t stop eating them. It’s even worse for these bunnies that somehow gather enough spiritual energy to undergo sentient awakening, as predators are instinctively drawn to them for the purpose of consuming said spiritual energy to grow stronger and smarter.

Every single rabbit working in the Fragrant Palace is able to speak and reason, so a Divine Beast breaking into Shen Yuan’s home would likely devour a dozen of them in order to successfully unlock self-awareness. And maybe it would snack on the others to further its ability to think by itself.

Shen Yuan feels pretty ambivalent about it. Like, okay, wanting to be smarter or merely be smart is a laudable goal, and if some beast is bent on pursuing enlightnement, more power to it. But he knows these rabbits. They’re not meat to roast on a spit or to put in a stew, they’re people who want to live as long as they can and to achieve this, they have no choice but asking a freaking goddess to please not throw them out in the cold, we will do any work you ask of us but let us stay behind your huge walls ? Please ?

« Young master has a kind heart » a-Ji comments – he’s one of the secretaries, that’s easy to differentiate him from his brother Wang Wang since a-Ji has these black smudges on his nose and mouth, like ink spots that accidentally splattered on his soft, creamy yellowish white fur, « to worry about such lowly ones as us. »

« But that’s unfair » Shen Yuan wails and he’s incredulous that a-Ji would label him kind for being upset about his and his mother’s attendants being eaten alive  ! Isn’t that common sense ?!

« Young master is thinking about the matter in a godly perspective. We moon rabbits are mere beasts, if spirit ones » a-Ji reminds him. « To a beast, devouration and hunting, be it as the prey or the predator, is nothing but a fact of life. We know as we are born that every day may see us stop running, and it may not be so. Such is our fate, until we strenghten our essence to ascend and reach the stage of human consciousness. »

Shen Yuan doesn’t actually feel much better, but he guesses this is the best he will ever receive from a-Ji and his tribe as a comfort. But no one is gonna chomp on these rabbits if he has his word to say about it, no sir-ee ! Fuck that noise !

Fortunately, his mother is as rightfully pissed off as him regarding the beast ruining her morning, so she spends several days reinforcing the estate’s walls with talismans and qi-infusion in the stones. At least, this is what she tells him – she won’t let him watch because he’s too small and young, so it might hurt him if his underdeveloped meridians were exposed to powerful spiritual energy.

Damnit, he really needs to grow up. And work on his cultivation.

Since he’s barred from the cool stuff – learning how to wield qi to make anything dumb enough to dare touch his shit fucking regret it – he goes and looks for the second coolest stuff : watch Hong’er butcher the tiger.

« This one suppose the young master could use a lesson in skinning your kill » Hong’er muses, and did Shen Yuan say how awesome his personal Hagrid is ? Because he is. Fucking A.

Of course, watching is all that Shen Yuan is allowed to do, because he’s far too dainty and weak to skin and dress an omnibus-sized creature whose flesh is tough enough to deserve an adamantine ceramic knife in order to be cut apart. He certainly doesn’t complain ! So messy, all this blood and viscera on the gravel and dirt…

« Young master shouldn’t come closer » Hong’er warns, « or this servant might accidentally splatter him with baihu blood and it wouldn’t be so good for his health. »

Shen Yuan perks up.

«  Baihu  ? » he repeats «  Xifang baihu , the great White Tiger of the West ? »

Hong’er huffs, but he seems more amused than anything.

« Merely a white tiger, one of the many hoping to rise on the same level than the Autumn Guardian Beast. Still, his liver and bone marrow will help with martial cultivation when consumed, his Core is precious to craft metal items, and his pelt will shatter the blade of anyone foolish enough to try and take it down straightforwardly. »

« Is that why you strangled it ? » Shen Yuan asks.

Hong’er smiles. His teeth are many, and so pointy they deserve to be called fangs.

« It cannot be slain by the blade, but it still needs to breathe. And my hands are strong. »

Hong’er has thick, sausage-like fingers, and his hands refuse to tremble as he plunges them within the tiger’s belly and as they disrobe the beast from its pelt. Shen Yuan remembers these hands oh-so-carefully holding him, as they would hold a peerless jade likely to break if not for the utmost gentleness.

When Shen Yuan’s mother comes back from working on the estate’s walls, she instructs the cooks to prepare the baihu ’s liver and bone marrow into dishes to be eaten by Hong’er.

« This beast presumed to devour these under my care » she somberly tells. « For its penance, this goddess shall command for its strength to be entrusted to my faithful guard, and for him to use it as he considers fit. »

Hong’er bows, and this move is weirdly graceful for such a huge man.

« This lowly one merely seeks to protect this estate and its occupants. »

As he straightens, his eyes linger on the two deities in front of him, Shen Yuan sitting on his mother’s lap.

« All of them. »

Chapter Text

How to describe the Fragrant Palace without dipping into the purplish writing of hack writers feeling the need to hide their utter lack of talent for characterization and worldbuilding behind thesaurus vomit ? Looking at the enormity of the self-imposed task, Shen Yuan wants to cry tears of blood.

Some places have this atmosphere, see, a dreamlike, ethereal quality that demands purple prose, to the point of falling into ultraviolet. And a moon goddess’ living place, well, of course it falls into such a category.

As indicated by its name, the Palace constantly and sweetly smells of flowers. They’re everywhere – tall osmanthus and haitang and magnolia and plum blossom trees in elegant rows lining the gardens and courtyard, lotus covering the ponds in bright shades of white and pink and blue, camellias and chrysanthemums and jasmine and iris blossoming all year round under the careful ministrations of the rabbit gardeners.

Such profusion of vividly colored plants are there to provide a counterpoint for the Palace itself, built in the siheyuan architectural style. The walls are smooth, slightly glowing greyish-white stone adorned with carvings of fantastic beasts such as dragons and phoenixes or characters for protection and blessing to the inhabitants.

In the main house in the north dwells Shen Yuan’s mother, as the Madam and eldest member of the family. This is also where the shrine for ancestral worship is – and Shen Yuan cannot help but wonder who a goddess could miss so much that she would put a tablet for them at the household altar.

He doesn’t ask her. Not when her eyes become so frightfully vague as she lits the incense sticks and offers delicate cakes and rice wine for the dead – she looks like she might shatter into ten thousands pieces under the weight of grief, and how deeply has one to feel for such pain to follow in ascension and godhood ?

Still, he has the inkling of an answer, since the name on the tablet is Shen Yi – and no matter how much he tries to go back at the very beginning, Shen Yuan can’t remember having a father in his brand-new life.

He thinks of the story his mother often tells him in spite of the tears that won’t fail to strangle her voice about the archer so great that he could shoot the suns down and his terrified wife who accidentally kept the immortality they wanted to share for herself – and he refuses to think about it anymore.

He’s very good when he needs to pretend sad things aren’t real. He got into the habit when he was a lowly mortal condemned to not live beyond two decades and a half of existence, why would he stop now that he’s the offspring of a goddess ? It’s even easier in his second life, there’s so few sad things to sob over, such as accidentally tripping into the pond when he tried to feed the goldfishes.

About the goldfishes, he wonders if they’re fishes made of actual gold – which, bullshit because biology doesn’t work this way but can his mother invoke a literal deus ex machina ? I’m a goddess so I laugh at the rules because I have ALL THE POWER at my fingertips and that means I can be tacky as shit and have pets from living metal that still need to poop and feed ?!

It is much more simple to play with the frogs – white and navy blue small frogs, preying on the jewel-toned dragonflies buzzing around the lotus flowers and softly croaking when he really wants to sleep.

Shen Yuan mainly leaves the dragonflies alone : they’re busy enough fleeing away from the goldfishes and the frogs and the kingfishers perching in the bushes nearby, just asking to snack on them at the first opportunity.

Speaking about the kingfishers, they’re the only bird species allowed on the estate in spite of their lack of musical abilities, for their brilliant blue feathers. Shen Yuan has made a game of counting how many birds from which kind are perching in a given tree – three nightingales and seven marsh warblers in the osmanthus, a blue whistling thrush and five black-breasted tits in the magnolia, nine fire-fronted serins in the jujube tree.

They just won’t stop whistling or cooing or warbling or thrilling, and the leaves shiver under the combined assaults of their songs. It’s surprisingly harmonious.

When Shen Yuan spreads millet on his palm, the birds immediately fly down to feed without any fear. When he dips his foot in the pond’s water, the goldfishes swarm his toes and ankles to sloppily kiss them. Dragonflies often come to rest on his clothes and his head, lazily humming as they unfurl their fragile wings.

Is Shen Yuan a Disney Princess now ? Da-ge and er-ge would give him so. Much. Shit. Over it ! But come on ! That’s so freaking cute ! And you can never know when it’s going to be useful to send a flock of birds swooping down on someone to crap on their head – yes, he will swear up and down that animal-speaking isn’t the lamest superpower ever, if you believe it so then you’re not creative enough ! Making yourself a terror with the limited assets you were given is the very proof of your superiority, such was the motto of Papa Shen !

If his meimei could see him, she would probably have a shrieking fit and snap a picture of his currently pint-sized ass buried under songbirds to post it on her Facebook – she insists she needs to share all the cuteness she can find in the world with her million-and-counting acquaintances, because it’s not pure joy unless you’re mass-gushing about the same thing.

He wonders if he would feel humiliated or if he would let her.

« Does the young master enjoy the birds so much that he would take them back to his bedroom ? » Hong’er asks him one evening, after Shen Yuan came to dinner with a yellow-vented bulbul casually sitting on his shoulder and pinching a-Yan when she tried to shoo it away.

« The birds are enjoying me » Shen Yuan corrects, pouting with all his might.

Hong’er doesn’t laugh, but the twinkle in his eyes betrays how much he finds the situation hilarious. Shen Yuan resolutely abstains from blushing.

« There, there, young master shouldn’t feel so wretched. It is natural for every living creature in the Heavens to want to stay close from him – young master was born to be loved by all. »

Ah, Hong’er, such flattery is embarrassing ! Why do you have to look so genuine saying this ? Now this wretched Shen Yuan won’t be able to eat his congee because he will be too busy spitting blood over your sappiness !

Did he mention how he can’t wait to grow up ? This small body just can’t contain all of his feelings !

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there wasn’t a frog in a well but a carp in a pond. Still, it had never seen the world out of its dwelling, and it was very happy to stay in the shallow water, growing fat on crayfish and spiritual grass, and sleeping in the muddy sands of the pond’s banks.

It was a rather old carp, old enough to have formed a Core but it wasn’t interested in ascending to the next stage and cultivating self-awareness. Why would it have done so ? It already had anything it could have wished for.

Until someone dragged themselves to the pond and started to cry.

Now, when it’s noisy above water, fishes often flee to avoid being taken in the cold, suffocating wind and gleefully devoured, but the carp was so old it felt more annoyed than scared and it raised its head above the surface.

A woman covered in a dirtied gown was sitting on the muddy bank, and she was busy crying as if her heart had been ripped apart and no one could ever put it together again, and the world around her was rippling and shivering from the weight of her grief.

Something sparked and came to life within the carp’s unused Core, and the fish went towards the woman’s dainty white foot that was half-immersed in the water and it covered the soft skin with sloppy fish kisses.

The woman shrieked awfully loud, then she saw it was a mere fish scaring her that much and she let a peal of laughter rise from behind the wall of her teeth. Her laugh was the freshness of moonlight upon fallen snow, and the carp shuddered deep in its Core.

She started to speak to the carp, and as she spoke she wove a tale – a tale of a foolish, scared woman that couldn’t even flee or fight to save herself and her husband’s rightfully earned reward, and how the woman could never be reunited with her beloved.

As she was speaking, she cradled her belly, and the carp could detect a lifeforce that wasn’t hers nestled in her womb.

I never even got to tell him , she whispered and it almost was a sob, he will never get to know I’m carrying his child .

The carp would have wanted to make her sorrow disappear as it would make disappear the roaches it was so fond of eating, by gobbling them up, but it couldn’t. It merely was a fat, stupid old fish and for the first time in its formerly content existence, it didn’t feel happy about it.

The woman never left afterwards. She slept under the trees surrounding the pond, eating of their fruits and making garlands with their fallen flowers. She often stared at the horizon, where the Earth was rising in the dark sky. She combed her endless locks of nighttime-colored hair with her fingers and washed herself in the pond while the carp was circling around her, sometimes fleeting but always coming back to her.

She spoke to the carp about everything and anything. Maybe it helped her to not feel so lonely, as she pretended the fish could understand her.

But there’s the thing, when you start to believe – earnestly, truly believe in something, then it starts to become real. And if it can work for humans, it’s even more effective with gods – whose relationship with what is real and what is not blurs so much.

She wanted for the carp to be her friend in her oasis of loneliness, and the carp wanted to gain the ability to care for her – this woman who had permanently upset the world it knew.

And so he did.

His Core once again started to grow – not in size but in complexity, a city building upon its fondations towards the heavens. His thoughts became words arranged in sentences instead of ephemereal feelings and sensations forgotten just as quickly as they appeared. His skin started to feel constricting, a moult waiting to be shed upon ascension.

He wouldn’t ascend for several months, until the day on which she went into labour.

As her belly swelled and filled and enlarged more and more, she sang and cried and worried over the unborn babe, as if they would hear her. She constantly repeated how she loved them, how she would never let them go, how her husband would have doted on and spoiled them and he wasn’t there because she had been foolish, such a foolish woman, but she would love them enough for two, wouldn’t she ? Wouldn’t they let her ?

She would cry out softly when the babe turned over and kicked her in the kidneys, so when she started sighing and squeaking and biting her lip as she massaged her bloated gut, he didn’t worry. At first.

Then she screamed . An awful, pained screech that went crescendo until the Heavens shook from learning of the imminent birth, a wailing lament expressing a primal torment magnified by godhood and personal mourning, and the trees quivered and craked and the pond’s waters churned and filled with mud.

An Immortal was about to be born in misery and loneliness, and nothing could be done about it for no one was close enough to help.

Except for one stupid, fat old fish that just wanted to do something , anything but how could he, unable to leave the shallow waters he long called home but now were prison, how could he when he was nothing but a carp…

Then I won’t be only that anymore.

And the pond sloshed as he rose from its waters, bearing the shape of a mortal man but his skin was white and red scales, and maybe he wasn’t the man she would have wished besides her for this opportunity but he nonetheless was a man and he wouldn’t leave her alone in her hour of need.

And when the most rare of beings – a natural-born Immortal – slipped into the world just as naked and red and white and slippery with fluid as the newly ascended Beast who had become human out of his desperation to help, when she finally beheld her child and kissed his brow and laid him upon her breast, she turned her gaze towards the one who assisted her.

She laughed, and her glee was as radiant as the first full moon in the spring.

« Hong’er ! » she called him. « My little crimson fish ! Ten thousands blessings upon you for your ascension and the succor you brought me. Ask me for a wish, and this lowly woman shall do her utmost to make it a reality ! »

To this, he could answer but one way, and as such he fell to his knees in front of her and her child.

« If it pleases this goddess, then let this one serve her and hers as their most devoted follower, for now and ever. »

And so, she granted his wish.

Chapter Text

Today, a courier banged at the gates and asked to speak with Shen Yuan’s mother.

Why is he so fucking surprised by this ? Of course he’s not living in a vacuum, he wouldn’t have to be instructed in the courtly etiquette if there wasn’t a Heavenly Court to need manners and all this polite protocol that prevents people from mutually gouging their eyes over tea. And yet he’s surprised – because he just spent four frigging years surrounded by nothing but moon rabbits and fishes and birds and whatever Hong’er is, Shen Yuan is pretty sure his personal Hagrid isn’t a deity but it’s pretty rude to ask so he never did, so he kinda forgot his mother merely was a Moon goddess and that the world needs more Heavenly Officials than just one.

Fuck, it’s embarrassing. Fortunately, the rabbits don’t ask him why he suddenly needs comfort cuddles because Shen Yuan’s thin face wouldn’t be able to deal with their inquiries.

When his mother emerges from her audience with the courier, she throws everyone in a tizzy by annoncing that the Jade Emperor will hold a flower banquet soon, and he asked for the Moon fairy to ensure the enjoyment of the guests by her dance and to bring her child to be formally introduced to the Heavens.

Wow. No pressure at all. Shen Yuan’s knees buckle and he gracelessly flops down in a-Ying’s long-suffering arms.

The Highest Emperor himself wanting for you to come and say hello, how the frick can you even try and skip such a tedious chore ?! Even painfully dying to the point your soul has been ground to dust and made unable to join the wheel of reincarnation wouldn’t be good enough an excuse !

Goodbye peaceful life in which his biggest worry was to get a-Yan to slip him more treats. Shen Yuan sobs.

His poor mother immediately hugs him with all the determination of a woman bent on strangling her unfaithful, drinking lout of a husband for giving her the pox.

« Ooooh, Yuan’er, shh, it’s alright, everything’s alright. His Majesty won’t do anything more than looking at you, and you’re such a sweet, sweet little one, every Heavenly Official will love you, won’t they, my little moondrop ? »

How is that supposed to reassure him ? He’s about to fall into Imperial Court Drama ! And he’s a fucking four-year-old brat ! Don’t you know what brats are in Imperial Court Drama, a-niang ?! Cannon fodder, that’s what ! Or targets for kidnapping or poisoning or subtle humiliations and abuse, oh fuck him with a fistful of rusted nails…

Fuck him, Shen Yuan is gonna die . For the second time  !! And he didn’t even made it to puberty !!!

He cries even louder.

His mother rocks him and kisses his brow and when she finally twigs that he decided to become a waterfall of tears and snot, she takes him to her own rooms and tucks him in her bed to let him hiccup and sleep his distress away under her perfumed sheets while she softly hums and strokes his hair.

Alright, maybe it’s not so bad to be forced to relive your childhood. You don’t have to pretend you’re too much of a mature grown-up to be someone’s baby boy.

While he’s busy panicking, the rabbits are busy organising the trip and discussing who is absolutely needed at home to ensure the Fragrant Palace won’t get reduced to a flaming ruin in the Madam’s absence and who’s needed at court to protect said Madam from seduction and assassination attempts.

Hong’er has to come, of course – nothing can say back off like a two-meters-plus colossus with the armour and the weapons to match. On the other hand, it will leave the Fragrant Palace beref from its first and more effective line of defense, so the newly-erected and reinforced warding arrays carved and infused within the walls really need to hold their own. And the rabbits really need to brush off their self-defense lessons.

Shen Yuan can’t help but think anything facing Tu’er Ye in all his bitchy glory will immediately run away crying from his mean face. He actually swears blossoms wither from sheer intimidation and fear when the bunny steward looks at them.

A-Ying will have to trek along and endure the palace’s plots with them since she’s Shen Yuan’s nanny. Shit, he really hopes no one among the Heavenly Officials is the kind of heartless maniac that would drown a pet – okay, a-Ying isn’t a pet, she’s a person who happens to look like a fluffy bunny and belong to someone as a servant, but who knows if gods won’t consider this as the definition of a pet.

He’s going to have to watch over her, won’t he ? And over all of the other attendants as well. Fuck, he’s not even able to care for himself, why does he have to be responsible for someone else ? Several someone else ?

Wang Wang will come as a secretary ; between him and his brother a-Ji, he’s the more rule-bound and proper one, so he’s less at risk to make a terrible misstep that would see his mistress banished or stripped from her godhood and titles. Alright, the difference is barely perceptible, moreso when you’re not familiar with the brothers, but even a smidge of competency will help when dealing with the Imperial etiquette.

A-Xian and a-Wu will come since they’re his mother’s chambermaids and as such take care of her makeup and clothing and hair. One cannot present themselves to the Heavenly Court without being pristine, after all ; also, dancing requires a costume and shoes and accessories to put on. Shen Yuan is resigned to the fact that he will have to submit to their ministrations, too – he just hopes they won’t make him look childish. Even if he’s a child now, that’s not a reason to pour salt within the wound !

Xiao Yi will come as a messenger, just in case that Shen Yuan’s mother needs to ask something from home. Xiao Yi is hopelessly honest and refuses to mind his words, but he’s the fastest when it involves running, a good quality to have for a messenger and one of the most prized for a rabbit – all the world, Heaven and Mortal and Hell Realms united, is a rabbit’s enemy, and whenever the enemy catch a rabbit they will kill it, but first they must catch it. Xiao Yi runs so fast that even the wind can’t catch him.

The deliberations take a whole day, and luggage needs to be prepared. The Fragrant Palace is filled with hurried footsteps and grumbles from the courtyard to the inner shrine, as everyone frets about not forgetting some piece of protocol or elegant garment, while speculating over the upcoming banquet and how it will unfold.

Shen Yuan just wants for it to be already over.

Chapter Text

When the hour to leave is upon them, the Jade Emperor sends them a carriage with a full complement of guards wearing lamellar armour of leather and bronze and iron, bearing gleaming shields and spears and their faces stoic under their armored hoods – they look like they would belong on the set of a Warring States period drama. Of course, being Heavenly Officials, the weaponry and armour would likely beat their pitiful human equivalents in spite of their apparent lack of sophistication.

The carriage looks rather fancy, all painted wood in blue navy and silvery shades, richly ornamented with mutton fat jade and equipped with silk curtains to screen the people inside from onlookers. It’s driven by two handsome grey horses that could easily let Hong’er sit on their backs with his heavy armour and nonetheless run like the wind.

Shen Yuan feels so disappointed. Like, he’s living in a xianxia fantasy, why can’t he ride a dragon or a cloud or a fucking moonbeam ? He needs awesomeness, damn it !

« Doesn’t it look comfortable, Yuan’er ? » his mother tells him as she makes him climb within the carriage. « All these pretty pillows, just for you. »

Alright, maybe he’s partial to cushions – and they are quite pretty, covered with embroidered beasts each more fabulous than the other. And maybe taking a carriage is safer when you’re traveling with a brat, since it’s a closed space in which said brat can’t disappear or fall down and break their neck. Maybe Shen Yuan can see the appeal.

Still. His own personal moonbeam to ride. Wouldn’t that be fantastic ?

Except for a-Ying, their retinue is staying outside in order to carry the luggage – thank fuck for extradimensional storage pouches, even a barely bigger than a toddler rabbit won’t have any problem carrying all their necessities for their upcoming sojourn in the Heavenly Court – and keep a vigilant watch over the road.

Shen Yuan briefly worries about someone being left behind – until the depart and wow . The carriage shudders, then the horses start galloping and the guards and retinue start running and how fast are they going, exactly ? Shen Yuan could easily believe he’s on a train instead of a carriage !

« A-niang, we’re going so fast ! » he blurts, widening his eyes as much as possible from his position half-lying on her lap – he wasn’t expecting such a start-up and lost his balance, but even if his mother had refused to catch him he would have fallen on the cushions so no harm there.

« I suppose we do » she peacefully hums.

A-Ying sniffles.

« Aiyah, these poor siblings of mine ! We’re going so slowly, they won’t even consider this little run as a warm-up » she declares with all the smugness a fluffy bunny with a soft pink ribbon tied around her neck is able to gather.

« You can run even faster  » Shen Yuan boggles.

« Of course we can ! » his bunny nanny boasts, before deflating a bit – her whiskers are drooping , oh no, that’s so sad, « but we’re not so good at running a long time. The longer we run, the warmer and hotter we feel, and since we cannot sweat as you do, it’s easy for our brain to boil in our skull. »

Shen Yuan scrunches his nose.

« That’s disgusting . »

« Of course it is, why would you ever think death is a clean business ? » a-Ying retorts with genuine curiosity.

Well, if someone aboard this carriage knows just how messy death can be, that’s Shen Yuan – he’s got first-hand experience ! However, as he ruminates his possible answer to the rabbit, his mother’s voice quietly and decisively puts an end to this questioning.

« This is not an appropriate subject for polite conversation, not even for grown-ups. Is that clear ? »

A-Ying immediately bows her dark-furred head.

« Begging for the Madam’s forgiveness, this lowly one forgot herself. »

« This goddess shall ask you to not forget again, or I will be displeased. And if this servant does it among the Heavenly Court, this goddess will be more than merely displeased. »

That… that almost feels like a threat, and Shen Yuan shivers because his mother isn’t that kind of person – she strongly believes in bribing her servants when she’s pleased by their work, instead of beating them for not doing enough. She really must be stressed by the perspective of performing in front of the Jade Emperor, his council and his courtiers.

Anyone would be, but coming from her, it hits so hard because it’s so unusual.

« Say, a-Niang... »

« What, moondrop ? »

« Why would His Majesty want you to dance for him ? Did we live in the Heavenly Palace ? »

Of course, Shen Yuan knows the answer – his memory right after his rebirth is awful , consequence of suddenly being regressed to a helpless baby following his humiliating demise, even a Buddha would be traumatised, but he still has vagues recollections of a place other than the Fragrant Palace. There’s not a lot of these, so it probably wasn’t for very long.

His mother absentedly strokes his white hair.

« Oh, for a while, right after you were born. Everyone was so curious about two new people gaining access to immortality, and in such an unorthodox way. Everyone wanted to meet us, for the sheer entertainment and novelty of the thing. »

Her pink mouth slightly puckers on these last words. Well, Shen Yuan supposes ascending to godhood doesn’t happen every day, so it makes sense for already established deities to want to greet the new guy… Shit, they had to be surprised, weren’t they, after gifting an immortality pill to a great slayer of Divine Beasts and having a woman with her newborn coming instead.

Heavenly clerks likely were irked in front of the administrative upheaval, but hey, that’s not like Shen Yuan’s mother did it with the intent to annoy them !

« But we left ? »

« Oh, yes. Courtly life… this isn’t for everybody, and the Fragrant Palace is much more quiet and peaceful. But I danced once or twice in front of the officials, to thank His Majesty for his hospitality, and it pleased him so he occasionally summons me to do it again. »

« I don’t remember you leaving » Shen Yuan protests as he snuggles against his mother’s silky robes.

« Of course you don’t, you were such a little thing and I did my best to leave for a few days rather than a few weeks. But now, you’re old enough for me to take you at court… so it won’t be such a short adventure. »

Well, that’s not ominous at all. Shen Yuan can’t help it, he frowns – the Imperial pomp and protocol actively threaten to eat a month in their schedule, maybe more than a month.

This might seem grand to watch the pageantry on a TV screen, but living it is much less appealing.

Chapter Text

The Jade Emperor’s Heavenly Palace has just as much of an atmosphere as the Fragrant Palace, but the likeness goes no further. The Fragrant Palace, for all its studied perfection and unearthly beauty, feels homey to Shen Yuan, somewhere safe in which he will always be welcome.

The Highest Emperor’s sprawling compound of halls, pavilions, walls, pagodas and towers is nothing less than grand, aware of its own majesty and awesomeness – in the ancient, almost forgotten meaning of awesomeness, something that inspires respectful terror.

Shen Yuan can feel it well before the carriage’s door opens, right as the procession is entering on the Palace’s grounds. Even the air is so pure that it becomes somewhat oppressive, and he’s one of the Immortals. A small, immature one yet an Immortal all the same. Such a mercilessly immaculate aura painfully reminds him of how long a road he still has to walk.

And that’s before a-Ying goes to open the door in order to let her masters exit the carriage, since it allows the gleaming, golden daylight to flood inside and Shen Yuan cannot help but scream.

He always thought expressions such as knifes plunging in his helpless retinas or flames devouring his vision were shitty attempts to be melodramatic but fuck both his lives, the current and the previous, it hurts so much ! Not even when he had to endure surgery after surgery for his cardiac problems did he hurt that much !

Shen Yuan allows his mother to carry him as she would a doll, he’s far too busy hiding his face in the crook of her silk-covered neck and sobbing in pain to care about looking dignified. Did he actually lost his eyeballs ? It feels like he did.

Ah, they’re moving again. Judging from the gait, he and his mother are now sitting within a sedan – really, they won’t be allowed to walk by themselves as long as they’re guests of His Majesty ? On the other side, they won’t get lost and a sedan means not exposing themselves to this fucking blinding light, so he can bear to be carried everywhere as if his legs weren’t able to function.

« Is Yuan’er still hurting ? » his mother whispers as she carefully rocks him.

He sniffles, tries to swallow and blinks. White spots briefly dance in front of his irises before dissolving within the sedan’s obscurity.

« Too bright » he wants to say, but his voice breaks on the last word.

His mother’s face is pinched, her mouth puckered in a helpless scowl.

« I should have known… Forgive your foolish a-Niang, my little moondrop, she didn’t think that leaving her place of influence could make you vulnerable. »

There’s a lot of displeasing implications hidden by this sentence, but Shen Yuan is far too dizzy to bother pondering over them. He merely grunts his confusion, hoping for more details.

« Yuan’er was carried and borne by this goddess as she was living on the Moon » his mother gently explains, « and as such was claimed by the Moon and everything associated with it. Being a child of nighttime, of course Yuan’er would flee the harsh light of the day. »

« Oh » he breathes.

Well, from a thematic viewpoint… it makes sense for Shen Yuan to have been reborn as an albino if he’s related to the Moon goddess. Not taking in account the lack of colour and strong association of white with the satellite, it would be rational for a light-sensitive person to favour a nocturnal schedule.

Shen Yuan can appreciate how poetic and aesthetic the whole she-bang is, but he still doesn’t feel happy with the fact that he’s sickly in his second life too ! Alright, the chances to die from complications due to his physique is significantly lower in this incarnation, but it doesn’t change that he has a chronic condition !

Did he offend some underworld cleric or judge, in order to be condemned to never know perfect health no matter how many times he’s reborn ? Shen Yuan would really like to present his case for karmic obstinacy ! Come on, he swears he won’t do it anymore, just tell him what he has done and he will repent with all his might, as long as he gets to be free from the doctors and the medical treatments !

Shit, he’s tearing up again. His mother immediately smoothes her face, seriously a gift for which da-ge would have killed to have, he never stopped bemoaning his difficulties when he needed to fool someone, and she kisses the top of his head. It tickles as a spark of qi jumps from her to him, nestling between his brows and softly humming.

« It won’t be so awful once Yuan’er will be a grown-up » she promises, her smile so reassuring and confident that Shen Yuan cannot help believing her. « For now, you’re still a little moondrop who needs to be taken care of, and to work on himself and grow strong. Then, the light won’t bother you at all. »

It better be ! Or this Shen Yuan is going to… is going… actually, he doesn’t know, but it would be messy ! The kind of messy that would make you throw your favourite t-shirt in the bin, since there’s no way to clean such a stain ! The kind of messy that would see cockroaches flee your bedroom, since they think it’s way too disorganized for them to camp there !

Shen Yuan would know about messy, it killed him in his previous life so you’re warned, all of you !

And no, he’s not fucking hysterical, his goddamn body just won’t stop crying a river or wailing a storm every time something slightly upsetting happens because brats are nothing but drama queens. He’s pretty sure he wasn’t that bad the first time, and he doesn’t remember his meimei being this way either, but that’s not like the nannies would have complained about their work unless they wanted for their paychecks to be docked.

Anyway, he snuggles close to his mother, and when the sedan stops moving, he closes his eyes and buries his face in her chest (and wow, that’s cushy but back off, that’s his mother and he has suckled these soft pillows for milk so no sexiness to be found there) while she rises and walks to their assignated suite.

Well, more of a personal, rustic cottage than a suite : there’s a bedroom with a large bed suffocating under plump quilts, a living room, a bathroom and walk-in closet, and a room to let the servants sleep. A-Ying immediately draws the curtains over the latticed windows, plunging the bedroom into semi-darkness as Shen Yuan is deposited on the bed.

« There you go, Yuan’er. Don’t play near the screens, alright ? »

He’s not a masochist, thank you very much, so why would he do something guaranteed to cause him pain ? Nonetheless, he murmurs his agreement.

And now, he’s looking forwards several weeks of solitary confinement under pain to trigger his light sensitivity. So fucking fantastic.

Chapter Text

Their whole tribe stays cooped in the cottage for one week as they prepare themselves to march to war – sorry, for the flower banquet but when you have watched enough palace dramas on your crappy TV, you cannot help thinking war is much more less dangerous than court events. At the least, war lets you see who wants to plunge a sword in your gut instead of pretending everything’s alright while poisoning your drink.

A-niang isn’t going to dance as she pleases for the Highest Emperor, she will have to dance according the basic conventions of yayue – the kind of solemn ceremonial music used in rituals, the kind that is refined and essential for self-cultivation, symbolizing good and stable governance. She needs to be perfect.

That’s… a lot of pressure, and Shen Yuan feels rather nauseous thinking about it. Also curious – yayue performances completely disappeared with the fall of the Qing dynasty, and attempts to revive the music and dance saw their authenticity questioned. The opportunity to look at these dances as they first were created, it tickles his fancy.

However, he’s not given the chance to watch his mother preparing her choregraphy, she’s busy training in the courtyard and he’s unable to leave the bedroom if he doesn’t want for his eyeballs to really melt from pain. Oh well, he will have to wait and see with the other courtiers.

In the meantime, Wang Wang is busy drilling him on the etiquette, how he’s supposed to walk, how low he’s supposed to bow in front of His Majesty or a minister, how polite he must sound when adressed no matter the circumstances. Shen Yuan’s head is swimming and about to burst from all the rules he needs to remember.

A-Xian and a-Wu force him to bathe every day with special herbs and oils to make his skin flawless in spite of his persistent sneezing and complaining that he’s going to turn into a withered plum, just look at his fingertips when he’s finally allowed to escape the bathtub ! They also pierce his ears, leaving him with pearl stud earrings that slightly pinch him at first, but he quickly forgets they’re here to begin with.

For his upcoming début, they set aside a wrap-around ankle-length skirt worn under a narrow-cuffed, knee-length tunic to be tied with a sash. The attire is a pretty pale blue in colour, all embroidered with goldfishes in white and red and black threading, and comes with a pair of pale blue slippers covered with lotus flowers in softly iridescent white thread.

… Holy crap, Shen Yuan is going to look like a porcelain doll. He’s almost afraid to peep at the final result in the bronze mirror resting on the low table set in the bedroom.

His only comfort is that his mother will be just as dolled up as him : a-Xian and a-Wu have prepared for their mistress a high-waisted skirt tied right under the armpits, embroidered with lotus flowers in silver thread and decorated with twelve small silver bells to jingle when she walks, to be worn over a wide-sleeved blouse printed with plum blossoms on the shoulders and cuffs. The attire is further accessorized with a long scarf in silver chiffon to be wound around the arms and elegantly drape on her back.

« Be careful, Yuan’er » she asks as he examines one of the skirt’s bells.

« Are you really going to dance with this ? »

« Oh yes. The point of the ritual is for dance and music to fully harmonize with each other, so the bells will add to the musicians’ efforts instead of disturbing them. »

But the costume is nothing compared to the hairstyle she intends to wear, a true massive abomination of a bun that needs no less than eight glittering, bejewelled and tasseled silver and blue hairsticks to not fall apart. Shen Yuan cannot bemoan his own small bun with its silvery ribbon after seeing this.

As a boy, he’s doomed to wear simpler hairstyles. And thank fuck for this !

A-Wu and a-Xian have brought jars for makeup and a small fortune in silver and pearl and jade jewelry, allowing Shen Yuan’s mother to paint a blue plum blossom on her forehead and to line her almond-shaped eyes with rouge while she dons long dangling pearl earrings and a silver necklace laden with mutton fat jade pendants carved in the shape of flowers.

« There » she sighs after she has finished picking her adornments, « will I be acceptable to the court, I wonder ? »

« Begging Madam to have no worry » a-Xian immediately reassures her, « anyone looking at Madam shall be struck dumb and mute by her beauty. Surely, no lady among the Highest Emperor’s carefully cultivated blossoms won’t dare to compare herself to the peerless fairy living on the Moon, our own lady Chang’e ! »

The goddess snorts and gently raps the bunny handmaiden on the head with her painted fan.

« You flatterer » she accuses, her tone more mischievous than condemning.

A-Xian bows, her whiskers twitching in a way indicating the white-spotted black rabbit is repressing a smile.

« Begging for Madam’s forgiveness, this lowly one wasn’t taken in her employ to flatter but to say the truth. »

« Nothing but the truth » a-Wu gleefully adds. « The whole Heavenly Court will fall in love with your esteemed self as soon as you will present yourself in front of them. »

Shen Yuan’s mother lets her mouth become a pinched, severe line.

« This goddess has no need for their love, merely for their awe. As long as they’re in admiration of me and my skills, they shall be too intimidated to even dare breathing in my general direction. »

Hm, that’s rather a tidy strategy when you want for others to not bother you. In his previous life, Shen Yuan had the opposite problem of making others notice him for reasons going beyond his family’s money and his pitiful health, but as the only child of the xianxia equivalent to a pop idol, he obviously will have to deal with quite the buttload of lowlifes interested in his and his mother’s divine status and reputation.

Damnit, he really needs to grow up. As long as he’s tiny and cute, no one will leave him alone ! And not for the good reasons !

Then the big day is upon them. Well, big night rather – since they’re lunar deities, of course Shen Yuan and his mother need to be introduced at night. Rather sound logic when you’re looking at it from the thematic angle, but Shen Yuan starts to suspect his new life runs on the power of narrative causality that makes tropes into the very laws of physics.

Also, the flower banquet happening at night means Shen Yuan will need to leave soon in order to not completely ruin his sleep schedule. Never before has he been grateful for having a bedtime.

Chapter Text

As the embodiment of yin, highest goddess and the ruler of female Transcendents, the Queen Mother of the West had to sit besides the Highest Emperor every time a meeting between deities occured. Anything less would be a slight – and a slight in the Heavenly Realm carried so much more devastating potential than in the Mortal Realm, or even the Underworld.

Such was the importance of following and ensuring the orderly procession of things in the universe, no matter how tedious for the enforcers.

And Xiwangmu had to be present for this flower banquet, in spite of it not being the Feast of Peaches celebrated in her honour. After all, one of her disciples would grace the attendants with her performance.

Of course, the silly girl had never acknowledged the Divine Mother as her teacher and guide on the path to transcendence – she never wished for godhood to begin with, but ascend she did and that meant Xiwangmu would care for her as she cared for all women who attained the way leading to the silver bridge.

The older goddess felt no regret about it, nor did she feel any for Chang’e accidentally ingesting the pill she had entrusted to the girl’s husband. Disruptions in the perfectly planned would always happen, what mattered was to make the better of the mess left afterwards.

Chang’e was young still – she needed time to digest and accept this truth. In the meantime, she just wouldn’t stop wearing mourning white.

It suited her, the Queen Mother dispassionately noted as the younger goddess took her position in front of the throne while the musicians poised their instruments, pure white made the girl feel as unreacheable and aloof and cold as the faraway Moon she now called home.

A shiver of anticipation washed upon the attendants, as they hungrily watched the lonely dancer exposing herself to their attention, her face a serene and flawless porcelain mask under the deep black of her piled hair.

Chang’e held her position for seconds that felt like hours, a regal statue sculpted from flawless jade, her eyes closed and a furled fan within her hand refusing to shake.

Hidden behind the plaits of her skirt, a small bell softly chimed as the dancer’s embroidered slipper peeked from right under her hemline.

A xun flute, shaped like a goose egg, answered to the bell with a plaintive note, and was soon followed by the soft ringing of the bianqing stone chimes struck by a bronze mallet.

The fan inexorably unfurled, and Chang’e – flowed .

There was no other word for the way she moved. As music notes flowed into each other, the goddess’ graceful, dainty moves flowed into each other and she looked like an icy river, glittering under the moonlight and falling snow, slowly yet surely and irresistibly rushing towards the sea.

She looked like she was gliding, floating barely a few inches above the cool tiles of the courtyard, so light was her footstep. She looked like she was glowing with her own, inner radiance, as the pristine white threaded with silver of her raiment caught the weak light emitted by the night pearls and magnified it.

And as she danced for the Heavenly Court, Chang’e kept her eyes closed, her rouged eyelids stubbornly shut over her dark irises and giving her face the solemn stoicism of a death mask or the careful vapidity of a doll.

And as she refused to even grace her audience with a glimpse of her night-black gaze, Chang’e looked as aloof and cold and far off as the Moon she now called home, a goddess beautiful and peerless to the point that she became unreal and made one fear to even breathe so as to not shatter the mirage of her presence, as the mirage of the Moon captured within a pond would shatter from a stone falling in the water.

She danced such a long time it felt like centuries had fled and she danced such a short time it felt like barely a few seconds were spent, no one cared about the flow of time as long as she kept them imprisoned within the enchantment of her dance, her loneliness bared for everyone to see and shudder and flee as songbirds would fly away from the cat.

Ultimately, the fan snapped close right as the xun flute mournfully exhaled a last note, high and distant and fading in the manner of stars as dawn was lightening the night and preparing the world for the sun rising above the land.

No one dared to applaud. A great sigh escaped from everyone present instead, some of the officials letting the breath break loose from their lungs with a repressed sob, as Chang’e once again adopted the immobility of a statue and waited for the judgement to fall upon her.

The pearl strings on the Highest Emperor’s twelve-tasseled crown shivered and made a soft clink sound when His Majesty slightly bowed his head.

« The moon shines on the sleepless, the moon should know no sadness » his low baritone resounded between the Palace’s walls and over the courtiers’ heads. « Why, then, is she always full when dear ones are parted ? »

« As men’s grief and joy, parting and union, so the moon is bright or dim, waxes or wanes » Chang’e serenely answered, keeping her eyes shut. « Always some flaw, and so it has been since of old. »

The pearl strings made another clink sound. The Queen Mother slowly raised her winecup to her lips, the green-glazed pottery ware cool under her fingertips as she sipped a mouthful.

« Always this Moon fairy’s dance was flawless » His Majesty declared, « and always it will be. »

The bejewelled hairsticks pinning the young goddess’ elaborate bun glittered as she inclined her head.

« Majesty honours this servant. Shall he tolerate for this servant to introduce her child to the Heavenly Court ? »

Ah, yes. Anticipation crept upon Xiwangmu, a flame alike burning pitch – for who wouldn’t be painfully curious about such a rare, precious existence, an Immortal born as such ?

And such a young one. Barely old enough to know their courtesies, the child’s nervousness was plain as they daintily walked towards the throne, their footsteps just as smooth and flowing as their mother’s.

Resolutely gazing at the floor, the child couldn’t be aware of the heavy attention directed at their tiny, doll-like figure. Maybe it wasn’t that bad – wouldn’t do to frighten the poor thing too much before they grew up a bit more.

Reaching their mother’s side, the child stopped and bowed, the silvery ribbon tying their bun almost lost in their snow white locks.

« If it pleases His Majesty » a sweet, high-pitched voice clearly and carefully enunciated, « this one is Shen Yuan, firstborn to the Lady Chang’e from the Fragrant Palace. »

Xiwangmu was many things : a former plague demon, a goddess, a teacher, a queen but above all, she was a mother.

And this child, ah ! How could she resist ?

Chapter Text

In his previous life, Shen Yuan wasn’t a huge fan of art – that was more er-ge’s stuff, he fancied himself a scholar of everything painting, drawing and music. His attempts to discuss the subject with his siblings almost knocked Shen Yuan off worse than his meds, but it meant their parents hadn’t been too heartbroken when their good-for-nothing third son decided he wasn’t cut for music lessons and only cared about literature as a way of escapism.

So when his new mother had been called for giving a dance performance, he naturally thought he would be bored to tears. That and frantically hoping no one among the Heavenly Officials serving as the audience would feel the performance was so pitiful that the dancer needed to lose her head – because a-Niang was quite attached to her head, and her head to the goddess, and Shen Yuan liked his second mother uninjured, thank you very much !

Then she had started to dance, and oh, maybe Shen Yuan was wrong in his expectations. It wouldn’t be the first time, but never has he been shown the error of his ways so… beautifully.

A-niang is beautiful. He has no other words to describe how she moves with the music, how she suddenly becomes a goddess in truth, an otherworldly being that people couldn’t even dream no matter if they wanted to picture such effortless grace.

But at the same time, she’s just so… lonely. She’s surrounded by a flurry of Daoist and folk deities, all busy gaping at her and making cow eyes, too enamoured with her to not look struck dumb, and she’s so utterly alone Shen Yuan almost forgets the etiquette Wang Wang drilled into his head to run and embrace her.

He doesn’t, but that’s merely because a-Ying is holding his hand and he knows she will sit on him if she thinks he’s going to do something stupid. A well-fed rabbit just the tiniest bit bigger than yourself is surprisingly heavy, and Shen Yuan actually likes breathing so he’s going to be the nice little porcelain doll everyone wants him to be.

It’s not hard to play a sweet little doll, all wrapped up in his pretty clothes and smelling of haitang blossoms, meimei would immediately snap him up for her dollhouse, she never grew out of liking dolls. Shen Yuan kinda wants to cry rivers of blood when his mother calls for him to walk forwards the throne and everyone focus their attention on his wretched self.

Don’t you have anything better to do than giving stage fright to a toddler barely out of diapers ? Like, scratching your butt or ogling your neighbour’s décolletage ? Give him a break !

He would close his eyes to escape all this bullshit but he’s guaranteed to trip on his skirt if he’s not looking where he’s going so staring at the ground that is. This is a very nice floor, all tiled with white and blue designs of flowers and birds. Isn’t that a bitch to clean up ?

He carefully keeps his eyes on a fiendishly intricate bush surrounded by cranes as he bows to His Majesty and tells his piece without too fumbling the words – fortunately, his sentence is rather simple and short, Wang Wang took his current physical age in account. He will have to sing another tune when he will finally grow up, but for now, he can get away with laconism or outright silence.

Since the Highest Emperor doesn’t smite him on the spot, Shen Yuan believes he has done well. Or maybe Himself would rather avoid staining his floor with ash.

A soft thump , glazed pottery carefully resting on a lacquered surface. Did someone put a cup or teapot down ?

« We are pleased to meet our newest subject » a male baritone rumbles, and Shen Yuan needs all his nerve to not shiver. « Now we would ask for this goddess and her beloved child to rest and enjoy the banquet. »

So he did not humiliate himself or his mother in front of a courtyard full of deities. Hooray ! Shen Yuan bows with earnest relief and gratitude, then slips his hand within his mother’s to guide her towards their reserved places – not hard to locate since Wang Wang is watching them, his fur carefully brushed for the event and his whiskers glinting in the lamplight.

Being on a bedtime, Shen Yuan only stays for nibbling some lotus pastries and dried wood-ear mushrooms and pan-fried pork buns, and he almost complains when a-Ying comes to take him away because holy crap , the food definitely and literally is divine. He would actually stay and endure hours upon hours of pageantry if it lets him stuff his belly until he feels about to explode.

A-Yan, a-Li, forgive this wretched, ungrateful young master of yours ! But you have serious competition in the kitchens !

He mournfully bids goodbyes to the golden crispy chicken drizzled in deep brown sauce that lays on a porcelain bowl, kisses his mother on the cheek (and she seems utterly depressed by the prospect of spending the whole night being polite and not having him on her lap while they’re eating, but she will get to sample all the delicious dishes so Shen Yuan feels quite conflicted on the matter) and obediently follows his nanny out of the courtyard and towards their borrowed cottage.

He falls asleep after climbing in the sedan waiting for them on the threshold, because he opens his eyes to a bed canopy and doesn’t remember undressing, putting his nightgown on then slipping beneath the quilts. A-Ying probably did all this instead, she wrangles him as she used to when he still was traumatized by this transmigration business to the point he couldn’t remember his potty training.

Shen Yuan ought to be furious about it, but a lifetime in the hospital ward with catheters and breathing tubes stuck in various unmentionable places has a way to utterly destroy the smallest hint of body shyness. A bunny seeing him naked is nothing by comparison.

When he wakes up, it’s to agitation : his mother just came back from the Flower Banquet and is busy shaking off her hairsticks and robes everywhere in the room, a-Wu and a-Xian tutting their disapproval and picking priceless jewelry off the floor to put it back in their luggage. When stressed, a-Niang becomes quite the mess and it reflects in her appearance and her living quarters.

He grumbles and tries to burrow himself further within his cozy little nest of sheets.

« Aw… Is Yuan’er awake ? Forgive your a-niang for the noise. »

A perfumed, silky soft hand is lovingly stroking his face, and he sighs. Someone coughs.

« Regarding the Divine Mother’s invitation... »

« The Divine Mother’s invitation is for this late afternoon » Shen Yuan’s mother icily retorts. « We shan’t speak of it before midday, do you understand ? »

A shuffling.

« As Madam wishes, then. »

« Good. Now, leave us alone. »

Shen Yuan knows he needs to fully rise in a few minutes but for now, he’s happy enjoying his mother’s kisses and cuddling.

Chapter Text

The opportunity to meet the Queen Mother of the West face to face is such a tremendous event that many legends and myths claim the privilege is reserved for one called to receive the Mandate of Heaven and leave their name engraved in history, for good or evil – just look at Yu the Great or the first and only Emperor of the Qin dynasty. Even in the Heavenly Realm, being called to the Jade Mountain is held as a rare honour, one that the Highest Emperor himself isn’t sure to keep.

Shen Yuan just wants to howl in frustration. Why won’t these people leave him alone ! He’s happy to play the mushroom, all alone and quiet in a dark corner, he never asked to be uprooted and dragged into the light for anyone hungry and ill-intentioned enough to cause a pitiful end to his second life !

He doesn’t shriek, but that’s only because his poor mother looks so tired she actually might be sleepwalking as she informs him of the Divine Mother’s interest for his sorry self and her demand – oh, she couched it in very polite terms but when a major figure in the pantheon wants for you to jump, you will do it and not waffle about pesky details such as wondering how high you have to go – for the Fragrant Palace’s Little Master to come and visit her. This afternoon.

That’s… quite remarkably quick for an interview with such a powerful deity. Isn’t she supposed to answer requests from many, much more powerful followers and worshippers ? How come she nonetheless finds a way to keep a free shichen in which she can indulge into torturing a brat ?

Alright, Shen Yuan isn’t really sure about the torture, but the Queen Mother is an old lady, and any old biddy worth her salt enjoys pinching poor babies’ cheeks and rambling about various subjects more or less uninteresting to a captive audience. If that doesn’t deserve to be called torture, Shen Yuan really doesn’t know what it takes to qualify !

And he can’t even protest, because the Queen Mother can just ask for someone to be fried in boiling oil if they displease her – sometimes not even that, she’s infamously whimsical and would unleash pestilences and wild beasts on poor hapless mortals merely because she would feel peckish this day. When you’re dealing with goddesses, you’re basically playing russian roulette – but the much more dangerous version, the one guaranteed to kill you.

Shen Yuan enjoys living, but unfortunately, his second mother and their whole retinue probably do enjoy living too and he can’t very well thank them for raising him by making the Divne Mother angry at the Fragrant Palace, that would be extremely unfilial. Why wasn’t he born with the heart of a wretched lowlife, ah ! That’s too cruel !

As he internally laments his fate, a-Xian and a-Wu are busy selecting his visite attire – another ruqun, but this one is a soft lilac shade, embroidered with pinkish and gold-tinged lotus blossoms while his hair is carefully braided with a lilac ribbon. Shit, just how many fancy clothes did they packed in this garment trunk ? Has Shen Yuan been resurrected to serve as a life-sized Barbie ?

Judging from the bunny chambermaids’ cooing when they have finished dressing him and the glint in his mother’s eyes, yes. Yes, he was. His thin face almost breaks under the dismaying enlightnement, but Hong’er immediately swoops down to lift him up in his arms and carry him to the sedan waiting outside.

A-niang cannot go with him, she’s far too exhausted and needs her beauty rest, but she can and did send Hong’er as her stand-in. It might be a little bit overkill since Hong’er routinely strangles big-ass white tigers in his quality of pest controller but Shen Yuan is perfectly okay with this. That’s a fucking big name in the pantheon that he’s about to face and he’s a pint-sized brat who cannot run far without falling flat on his face, he deserves overkill.

Hong’er takes very seriously his role as a security blanket, deciding to wear his lamellar armor under a short cloak of baihu fur and bringing so much knives he should clink every time he takes a step, along a huge sword with a rather hungry-looking blade.

A-Ying – who’s tagging along to remind the Queen Mother when it will be time to release her poor, long-suffering victim – is suitably impressed. Shen Yuan approves of the barbarian hero look. When they reach the Jade Mountain, the flock of birds waiting for them seems quite nervous.

If the Moon goddess has rabbit attendants, the Queen Mother is waited on by three-legged crows whose feathers are a shimmering blue-green. Shen Yuan doesn’t hear them speak, but he supposes they likely can as Divine Beasts under the direct patronage of a major deity. Also, mundane crows are smart enough to learn human speech, so their heavenly cousins have no excuse whatsoever for not trying.

Anyway, their little band of three follows one bird into a obscenely beautiful garden – something tended by a master for hundreds of years will never be anything but breathtaking – in which the Divine Mother is waiting, sitting at a low table and surrounded by a gaggle of female deities.

She looks… rather youthful, actually. Petite and curvy under her robes of vibrant pinks and yellows and oranges, her round face carefully painted and made up under her heavy bun pinned by a golden buyao crown in the shape of a peach tree bearing fruit.

Then she smiles at the approaching party, and her mouth is full of sharp teeth that would suit a hungry tiger while her green eyes light with an arsenical glint.

« Shen Yuan » she greets him with a warm, motherly tone, « be welcome in my palace. Come, child, and sit besides me. »

She’s patting a plump cushion as she’s saying this, and Shen Yuan is far too well-raised and afraid to outright refuse her. Plus, it seems to be a very comfy cushion – and it is, as his backside is happy to learn.

A golden pheasant emerges from a bush to tread on the gravel path, its beady eyes greedily fixated on the porcelain bowl filled with fruits set on the table. A handmaiden titters and throws a grape in front of the bird that immediately gobbles it.

« You silly girl » the Queen Mother sighs, « now it won’t leave us alone. Would this Hong’er be a dear and shoo the bird away ? This venerable one mislikes pets shitting on her gowns while she’s entertaining. »

Hong’er frowns, only for Shen Yuan to pout at him – mainly to intimate him to obey, but also because he’s trying to not laugh after hearing the goddess using such a crude word. His personal Hagrid straightens his armor and goes pheasant-wrangling.

Shen Yuan didn’t know a pheasant could shriek so loudly. A small hand heavy with bejewelled rings strokes his hair as he winces.

« Don’t you worry, darling, golden pheasants sound worse than they are. But let this venerable one know everything there is to know about such a sweet little transmigrator. »

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan’s thin face must betray him in a very interesting way, because one of the royal handmaidens actually snorts. Well, he’s saying handmaiden, but she could easily be some bodyguard, all dressed in leather armour with strategically sewn-in metal bits that emphasize her curves, her biceps not even bothering to hide themselves and her hair tightly braided against her skull.

« Xuan’er » the Queen Mother says without even turning her head to identify the culprit, « be kind. »

« Begging my Queen’s forgiveness » the woman – and wow is she tanned, you would believe she does nothing but sunbathe all the week long – retorts, her eyes still twinkling.

Shen Yuan finally manages to breath anew, his heart still beating so fast that it would have been grounds for hospitalisation in his previous life and that the moon rabbits would be proud.

« You – how can you know ?! » he splutters.

The Divine Mother arches her perfectly plucked eyebrow.

« Darling, who do you think this venerable one is  ? Of course she who teaches rulers and Immortals need to keep herself informed of anything that might be of relevance – and I would say a soul slipping from their birth universe into another looks to be quite significant. »

« Or the unassailable proof that the Courts of Hell shouldn’t have tried their hand at this modernity thing » a handmaiden mutters as she absentedly inspects the silk strings of the qin perched on her lap.

« Sister... »

« What ? Since they installed these Systems of them, the bureaucracy has crawled to a halt. They just won’t stop sending the dearly departed to the wrong punishment level, the supplies for torture and writing won’t be delivered in time, and don’t even ask how many times they accidentally deleted someone’s records ! »

« Poor King Yama » a third handmaiden – wearing a nine-coloured gown – sighs, and Shen Yuan himself has to wince. « I got to see him barely a few weeks ago, when he went to complain to His Majesty, and he looked exhausted . »

« You mean he was dead on his feet ? » the first handmaiden – Xuan’er – slyly jokes, and the whole gaggle of attendants giggle.

«  Girls  » the Queen Mother warmly and firmly intervene. « Do not indulge in criticism, it reflects badly on you. »

« This one was only saying the truth » the musician cheekily claims. « How can that be insulting, unless one refuses to correct their behaviour ? »

« Well reasoned. »

Shen Yuan gathers his courage in his two hands and decides to speak.

« So… I am a filling mistake ? »

Nice to know the whole reason why he got reincarnated within another dimension entirely was because the Underworld’s clerks had well and truly dropped the ball. And not just with him, apparently. Oh boy.

The Queen Mother slowly blinks, as a huge cat would do when curious.

« That is all the question, isn’t it ? » she muses. « It mostly depends of what kind of story this is, or what role you are to play in it. »

« Excuse me ? »

The elder goddess pushes the fruit bowl towards him.

« Have a red date. I plucked them myself – not as good as my peaches, of course, but very good nonetheless. »

Shen Yuan picks a date and pops it within his mouth. Juice spills on his tongue, and he’s surprised by the lack of acidity.

« What you need to understand, darling » the Queen Mother pursues as he more or less elegantly spits the kernel inside the fruit, « is that everything runs on stories. Yes, even your previous universe answers to the narrative convention, if in a rather restrained way. »

Shen Yuan cannot help it, he snorts.

« I do assure you, this is relevant to you. Now that you ascended to Immortality, you are so much more bound to follow the rules. Gods are creatures of myths and stories, after all. »

« This lowly one always assumed the gods created mankind and the stories came after » the colourful handmaid pouts.

« Absolutely, my dear » the Divine Mother earnestly answers, and Shen Yuan boggles.

« Wait, you just contradicted yourself ! » he blurts, and oh fuck, he just called a major goddess out, she cannot take it well.

She doesn’t get pissed, merely plucking a loquat from the fruit bowl and admiring it.

« How ? » she innocently says, and he wants to spit blood over her audace, there’s no way she’s that dumb.

« If the gods are born from stories, they can’t have created people to begin with ! Or – wait, is there time travel involved ? »

« Goodness no ! » the Queen Mother immediately interjects, a bit wild-eyed. « If there’s something you absolutely cannot fool around, this is Time ! No, this venerable one was thinking more in line with… ah, the causality dilemma. »

« My Queen means to say, the chicken or the egg » Xuan’er intervenes. « You won’t actually get to know who came first. »

« But you do » the Queen Mother shrugs. « Both of them. Neither. Immortality is the land of self-contradiction and absurd. But the true aspirant to the path of godhood cares not for coherency, they learn to live with their contradictions. Only the mind that can weather good and bad can open itself to the truth. »

Shen Yuan goes slightly cross-eyed. That sounds like the kind of gibberish made up on the spur of the moment indistinguishable from such profound philosophical wisdom it’s impossible to understand it without three hundreds pages of commentary. Wait…

« Majesty, are you trying to teach me ? »

He feels very, very conflicted between bafflement, annoyance, existential dread and exhilaration.

« This venerable one is not trying to teach the young soul you are the path to the Dao » the Queen Mother sniffles, « she is teaching you the path to the Dao. And none of this Majesty silliness, just call me Nanny. »

Alright, Shen Yuan’s mind is officially blown. His poor mother will have to mourn over his brain-dead body.

« I already have a nanny... »

Speaking of a-Ying, where is she ? Apparently blissed out from the handmaidens petting her fur and scratching behind her ears, the traitor. He can see a bit of drool dripping from the corner of her mouth.

« Feh, is that supposed to make this venerable one flee ? As if I couldn’t share ! » the Divine Mother retorts.

Shen Yuan never got to visit a jungle in which wild beasts are roaming as they wish, but he thinks he’s now perfectly aware of what you’re supposed to feel when a huge, toothy smile accompanied by orange and black stripes falls upon you.

Fuck both his lives, he really will strangle the dumbass clerk that dropped him in this universe if he ever finds the guy.

Chapter Text

When a wide-eyed, slightly frazzled Hong’er finally comes back from wrangling the pheasant – and boy was this bird fierce for a fancy chicken – he finds Shen Yuan busy pouting with all his might while the Queen Mother of the West is smirking in the manner of cats everywhere after cornering a mouse.

« Is everything alright, Young Master ? » the towering servant asks while he comes to stand besides his young charge – and what a pair they make, Hong’er the barbarian bodyguard and Shen Yuan the doll-like toddler.

« Nanny » Shen Yuan articulates with all the scorn and spite he can gather in his tiny, frail body, « wants to teach me how to be a proper god. »

Hong’er blinks, then narrows his eyes. Xuan’er the tanned warrioress sends a blinding smirk in his direction while she makes a red date dance between her fingers.

« Truly, would it be so bad ? » the Divine Mother purrs, her poisonous green eyes half-closed. « This venerable one is a renowned teacher… and she’s earnestly curious to see how this Shen Yuan’s life will unravel. »

Shen Yuan draws on his meager height to seem more imposing and dignified, but he’s painfully aware he’s just as threatening as a puffed rice cake.

« Is this Shen Yuan a mere plaything to Nanny ? » he tartly asks.

« Wasn’t Luo Binghe passing entertainment to you in your former life ? » she serenely retorts, and her toothy smile is blinding.

Shen Yuan reels back, feeling the blow on a physical level.

« That… that’s not the same thing. »

The Queen Mother carefully shreds a loquat with her pink-lacquered nails, and they’re so long it would deserve for them to be called talons, why didn’t he notice this not so insignifiant detail before ?

« Isn’t it ? » she sighs. « My sweet summer child, do you even know how mortals appear to deities ? So fleeting and short-sighted, barely able to achieve anything in spite of their best efforts, truly they could be ants and no one in this Palace would even notice a difference. Their best and likely only worth would be to serve as entertainment, indeed. »

Shen Yuan cannot help but feel very, very small in front of this goddess talking with such dispassionated tones. He tries to find comfort in Hong’er who’s right besides him and so warm it radiates from his body, Shen Yuan doesn’t even need to touch him to perceive it.

« This one thinks the little master is a mite scared of Her Majesty » the colourful handmaiden commented, frowning.

« Oh ? Would this little one dare to think this venerable one is cruel ? »

Fuck it, why couldn’t you choose another question, you old biddy ? If this Shen Yuan truthfully answers you, he will get so spanked he will remember it in his next five lives ! And if he wants to lie, his thin face will let you see what he’s trying to do and there, hello again to the spanking and torture ! Nothing he can do will save him !

Shen Yuan wants to cry. He already feels the tears burning under his eyelids – this cursed body of his really begs for any opportunity to play the drama queen, doesn’t it ?

Of course the Queen Mother notices how he sniffles and reddens as he desperately swallows his anguish down, and she – sighs. She doesn’t even get angry, but she suddenly looks very, very old in spite of her fresh, youthful features.

« Well, I suppose I can’t begrudge you for this. Xiwangmu is what Xiwangmu is, and this is the embodiment of the whimsy and cruelty inherent to the yin . »

« My Queen is far too hard on herself » the musician softly chimes. «  Yin also is softness and gracefulness. Isn’t her Majesty the embodiment of these qualities ? »

« Perhaps » the Divine Mother muses, « perhaps you are in the right. But this Shen Yuan would be well advised to heed this venerable one’s warning : godhood… it tends to chip at compassion away. »

A bird warbles in the bushes nearby. The Queen Mother’s gaze is focused on a distant point, murky and unfocused as a stagnant pond.

« Caring is no burden when one first ascends. Indeed, one feels so much more powerful, so much more wise than before, how could one not believe they will be able to fix everything ? And so so one starts on the great path to alleviate what’s wrong in the Universe, with the utter conviction one will get to see the end to this great roard in no time at all. »

The diminutive yet powerful goddess sighs.

« It takes time. It takes a long time, much longer than aeons and aeons, and in the meanwhile one stumbles for the first time. And again, and again, then one notices the wrongs needing to be righted are very much the same one found when they engaged themselves on this dreaded path. Eternal recurrence is quite the curiosity as an abstract concept, but actually living through it countless times quickly becomes tedious. »

« … How old are you ? » Shen Yuan bluntly asks, and okay, that’s not polite to ask a woman her age but…

The Divine Mother is scaring him a bit – like you would feel some vertigo near a dinosaur fossil and digest just how fucking ancient it actually is. Yet he cannot help find her a bit pitiful too.

She manages to look so tired, as if an eternity of sleep wouldn’t be enough to erase her sheer exhaustion. Even the little smile she grants him is more weary than cheery.

« Do you know, this venerable one has lost count ? Xiwangmu has occurred through history and time itself in so many ways and shapes that she cannot honestly offer an answer to your question. »

Alright, the old biddy truly is old as sin – older than sin itself.

She tenderly pats his pale, tiny hand.

« You’re still young, still thinking of time in linear terms. Once you will have lived a bit more, you will naturally drift towards a Jeremy Bearimy timeline, that’s inherent to godhood. »

« A what ? » Shen Yuan repeats.

« A word full of loops » the musician intervenes. « Mortal lives flow in a straight line. Gods don’t. »

The prospect causes Shen Yuan’s eyes to cross in a very unsightly way. Amused giggles ripple through the royal handmaidens in front of his reaction.

« As I was saying, Shen Yuan doesn’t have to worry about this right now. And when his moment will come, this Divine Mother will have prepared him to stand and bear it. »

Oh, great. He really can’t escape this, after all.

Chapter Text

When Tu’er Ye had been assignated the duty to attend Lady Chang’e, newly ascended and still in dire need of guidance to properly grow into her divine duties, he had bowed his head and accepted the task.

What else could he have done ? Then, he had been nothing but a leveret, a youngling that just reached the minimal level of self-awareness needed to be considered more than a dumb beast and still it wasn’t enough to let him serve a powerful and well-established Heavenly Official. His only redeeming grace was his in-depth study of courtly etiquette and household management.

That and he was a helpless, powerless white rabbit. Even gods tended to coo and instinctively trust a weak, furry little critter.

Tu’er Ye first hated this powerlessness of his before getting resigned to it. He was a weakling, but if his weakness endeared him to a patron that would prevent Divine Beasts from the wolf and tiger variety to feast on him, he had no reason to complain and needed to make the best of it.

A rabbit needed to be cunning, and that meant acknowledging and seizing the slightest opportunity to see another tomorrow. A stupid rabbit quickly stopped running.

Lady Chang’e was… well, she certainly had been unprepared to cross the silver bridge and gain the Upper Realm of existence. She had complained enough about it – or rather, blubbered and sobbed in a startingly inelegant manner, there was actual snot and puffy eyes involved, how scandalous – to make her rabbit servant’s poor ears almost fall off.

Fortunately, she was forced out of her constant mourning by the Young Master or Tu’er Ye would have declared her a lost cause, and bully for the Heavenly Bureaucracy’s directives for him to whip her into shape.

The Young Master. He was… truly something else.

Immortals were regularly created or forged through various trials, some of suffering, some of compassion, some of righteousness. It always was a hard, long road on which a lot of promising candidates failed, leaving a few measly to gain divinity once a decade.

For an Immortal to be born as such was a rare event, so rare it only happened once in ten thousands years, and nothing guaranteed it would be repeated ten thousands years later.

Truly, Young Master Shen Yuan rightfully could lay claim to the title of Most Precious Existence to the Heavens and Everything Beneath – his very existence being nothing short of a one-in-a-million chance, how could he be not cherished and treasured ?

When Tu’er Ye had been introduced to the infant cradled within his mother’s arms, the truth of this fact had irremediably crashed upon him – as the Young Master opened his pale, silvery eyes and smiled at the quivering rabbit trying to not faint in front of the pure, utterly unadultered and unfiltered yin qi he could feel rising from the tiny body.

Nothing but a gummy, naively happy smile and it was enough for the rabbit attendant to fell under the Young Master’s power, forever and always, forever and a day.

Never had he cause to regret this devotion – except when Young Master had started to grow and distribute cuddles and kisses to his sisters-in-laws and wife and offspring yet not Tu’er Ye himself, and he just couldn’t understand why such disdain when his fur was perfectly soft and clean. Was it the soap he enjoyed using ? Was the Young Master allergic to the smell, maybe ?

The Lord Leveret decided to be patient and understanding : the Young Master still had a lot of time to grow up and decide he was beyond such frivolities as cuddling the help. Of course he would realize his unwitting neglect of his second longest-serving and faithful attendant (when it came about being the longest-serving and most faithful, Hong’er shamelessly hogged these two qualifications and it rather irked every servant of the bunny persuasion living behind the Fragrant Palace’s walls).

In the meantime, Tu’er Ye would watch over the Fragrant Palace’s inner gestion. It actually was a bit like ruling a very small kingdom – or rather queendom – with the rabbit as High Chancellor, second in power after the Queen herself.

Lady Chang’e had grown into herself – into the regal, beautiful and confident goddess she was supposed to be, truly deserving of her power even if she still suffered from melancholic fits that refused to be quenched by acupuncture or medicinal teas. And now that the Young Master was old enough to not need her constant care and attention, she would finally be free to fulfill her duties as a Moon Goddess and Heavenly Official to the Highest Emperor.

Would it be good for the Young Master to observe her as she did what was expected from her ? One day, he too would be called to serve the Upper Realm as a deity – even if the kind of deity he would become still was unclear. Yes, there was a strong probability for him to be picked as a lunar deity, but he nonetheless could choose the martial path or devote himself to the scholarly arts… So many potential roads opened to him.

Tu’er Ye couldn’t help but feel moody when he reflected over the Young Master’s future. Would it be so bad for the Young Master to enjoy his childhood just a bit longer ? The rabbit’s own kits always grew up so quickly – a sad necessity for a rabbit no matter the Realm – so a child staying a child more than two weeks was… unexpectedly enjoyable and lovely.

Truly, he was supposed to serve the Young Master and pamper him as his rank and esteemed nature demanded, but Tu’er Ye was the one spoiled to be allowed besides the Young Master – and he knew his entire family thought the same, and Hong’er wouldn’t profess anything else.

Needless to say, rivers of tears had been cried by the ones left behind to watch over the Fragrant Palace and miss the Young Master’s début at the Heavenly Court. Their poor Young Master, the imperial cooks didn’t know anything about his favourite dishes, the imperial gamekeepers wouldn’t be able to keep up with his endless questions about the well-being and health of the animals and the gardens in which they lived, how would he survive ? Surely the Young Master would return to them a mess, ah !

On the other paw, the Young Master when distressed tended to beg for longer and more frequents embraces, so more than a few bunnies guiltily looked forwards the upcoming cuddle sessions and already plotted to be chosen before their siblings and aunts and parents and niblings.

Truly, palace intrigues were fearsome and unfortunately unavoidable when one needed to come on the top and gain the sweet, sweet reward.

Chapter Text

When the Divine Mother finally releases her guests, it’s almost time for Shen Yuan to go to bed and he can barely keep his eyes open – Hong’er actually needs to carry his young charge in his muscled arms as if Shen Yuan was an infant again, while a-Ying trots behind him and easily manages to follow in spite of the gigantic bodyguard’s much longer legs.

Their escape won’t be permanent, since the Queen Mother declared she would hold a garden-viewing party in two days and that the Lady Chang’e and her son were cordially invited. She also not-so-candidly mentioned there was a lot of interesting beasts in her personal gardens, beasts that enjoyed her protection and sometimes would allow themselves to be petted and handfed treats so long as she thought the one asking to do so earned such privilege.

Using her wealth and possessions in order to gain what she so obviously covets, truly the Divine Mother is a fearsome foe in the political arena, ah !

Of course Shen Yuan couldn’t pick another course of action than agree, the Queen Mother of the West is bound to have collected the most interesting beasts ! Her attendants are the mythological blue-green crows, and wasn’t her chariot rumored to be drawn by a qilin ? No matter what it takes, no matter if he needs to sacrifice his sanity and personal tranquility, Shen Yuan will meet these wild beasts she rules over !

He’s pretty sure his mother will forgive him for dragging her into yet another court event, so soon after their arrival. She might be a tiny bit grumpy but she will forgive him.

His mother. A-niang.

« Say, Hong’er... »

His personal Hagrid blinks, obviously surprised by his charge’s whisper.

« Does the Young Master need anything this servant can provide ? » he asks as if it was the most natural thing in the universe – as if his whole world revolved around indulging Shen Yuan’s every whim.

He thinks about it and he can’t help feeling cold in his very bones, a winter chill carving itself into his marrow to never leave.

« Does… Does my mother know ? About… me not really being… not really being her son. »

Why does it hurt so much, telling these words ? It is nothing but a cold, hard truth he always knew deep inside his guts, an ache located in his chest right where he formerly had scarring from his many surgeries for his defective heart. Something that won’t disappear even if he refuses to acknowledge it.

So why are his eyes burning with hot tears ?

Hong’er stopped walking and is now looking at him, his gaze confused and worried.

« Why would you ever think such a thing ? Of course Yuan’er is milady’s beloved child » he asserts, in the kind of tone people use to say the grass is green and the rain wet.

Shen Yuan chokes back something between a sigh and a small sob.

« But my soul. »

Somewhere beneath the bodyguard’s elbow, Shen Yuan can hear a-Ying exhaling a soft ah sound, and of course she can hear their conversation with her huge ears.

« Young Master, souls are constantly joining and leaving the wheel of reincarnation » she kindly informs him. « Do you really believe your esteemed mother wasn’t prepared for the possibility of her child remembering a previous life ? Especially considering the circumstances of your birth, unusual conception and labour tend to produce tricky offspring. »

As he gazes downwards, she’s looking up at him with pleading, garnet-red eyes.

« Young Master, your lady mother loves you more than anything. At least believe in this humble one’s words. »

Shen Yuan hiccups as he struggles to let air inside his lungs, and the massive hand supporting his back is so hot it verges on painful.

« Well, maybe she shouldn’t » he spits, « because I already had a mother. »

« And a father too, this one suppose ? » Hong’er softly asks. « Siblings, maybe ? »

« … Two older brothers. One younger sister. »

Suddenly, this four-year-old body is so tired, and Shen Yuan genuinely feels like he’s his physical age. Letting someone else learn of er-ge and da-ge, of his mei-mei, it’s so much much worse than indulging in fleeting recollections of them.

He doesn’t know where he read it, but he once read a true writer could only die when no one is interested in opening their books. Is the inverse possible – to make ghosts come alive by speaking a memory of them ?

Silly him. Of course it’s impossible. Of course he won’t ever get to see them anymore. Memories are only there to sharply point the people-shaped holes they will never fill in this new world.

Shen Yuan ponders if it would have been worse to drink the forgetfulness soup and not remembering his previous family. He has doubts regarding the whole matter.

Hong’er is squatting, allowing a-Ying to pat Shen Yuan’s damp cheeks with a soft handkerchief she fished out of the purse tied to her waist. When did his eyes start to leak ?

« Aiyah, such a loving family Young Master had » the dark-furred rabbit sighs, « to be so unhappy when parted from them. They did cherish you, then. »

«  Yes  » Shen Yuan hisses, offended for people that won’t have the opportunity to defend themselves – people that loved their good-for-nothing lazy third son, even when he could see in their eyes how tired they all were with his sickness and wondering if today would be their last day together. He certainly wouldn’t have loved himself if he had been in their shoes and still wonders how they could.

« And surely they wanted for the Young Master to be happy » Hong’er interjected. « This one knows milady is at her happiest when her treasured child is happy – they wouldn’t begrudge you milady’s care and attentions. »

It rings with an awful truth, this claim, and Shen Yuan wants to put his hands on his ears to not hear this. He closes his eyes instead, trying to stop the wet trails flowing on his face.

« Yuan’er. It’s alright for you to love the family in which you previously were incarnated. It’s alright for you to love milady as the woman who gave you life anew. You don’t have to choose between them. »

Hong’er is such a titanic presence, he really feels like he can protect Shen Yuan from anything, from wild beasts to his own heart demons, and the boy is just so tired.

He tugs on his protector’s collar.

« I just want to sleep » he whines, his voice breaking on the last word.

A rumble hums within the giant’s chest, right behind his armor.

« Alright, Young Master. Let’s get you back to your mother. »

Chapter Text

Rather predictably, a-Niang is very much unhappy when Shen Yuan is brought to her with a tear-streaked face, his eyes reddened and puffy and his nose threatening to release a river of snot – even transmigration within a god’s body won’t be able to make this wretched third son look all elegant and pretty when he’s sobbing, he’s not even cute judging from everyone frowning and panicking whenever it happens.

If poor a-Ying cowers in front of her mistress’ withering glare that just screams how dared you fail to prevent this disaster I ought to cook you in a stew, her whiskers quivering and her ears drooping on the floor, Hong’er is stoically unaffected. No wonder he’s able and willing to strangle wild predators to death with his bare hands, if he can withstand such an assault of disapproval, ah !

Neither of the servants breathe a word about why their precious charge had been crying. If Shen Yuan has to come out as a reincarnated soul, he would like to do it on his own terms and he’s definitely not mentally ready for it to happen now. He needs a lot more to prepare himself – like a hundred years or more, that should be good.

(but no matter how much he turns the facts in his head, he really doesn’t see a way to tell Chang’e that the baby she wanted so badly to have as a treasured memento of her husband has been swapped with a useless millennial brat before it could be born)

Instead, they decide to let her believe the Young Master is sobbing because Her Majesty, the Queen Mother of the West promised she would show the beasts living in her garden to the boy, and would even let him pet them… but not today. Alright, that’s a bit mean but Ximangwu can perfectly defend herself from a pissed off mother – and Shen Yuan still feels salty about being a tiny bit press-ganged into becoming her pet project or entertainement or student, he’s not very sure of the distinction because the Divine Mother seems to merge the three categories into one.

It kinda works : a-Niang is still fuming, her anger and upset now directed at the Queen Mother for the horrendous crime of making Shen Yuan unhappy, but on the other hand he knows that Chang’e just can’t act on her feelings and confront a much more socially and magically powerful woman as she would rather do without risking harsh censorship. At best, the Moon fairy might get away with snippy remarks and a distant behaviour – and even that would expose her to criticism, for supposedly showing unsufficient respect and stark ungratefulness towards she who is the female equivalent to the Highest Emperor.

For all her beauty and artistic prowess, Chang’e is treading on quicksand, and she’s painfully aware of this – it’s far too apparent in her pinched mouth and tired eyes as she gathers Shen Yuan into her arms for a long, perfumed embrace.

And that is precisely the reason why Shen Yuan would always read fantasy stories with a huge emphasis on fantastic critters and plants – so much less depressing than palace intrigues ! Alas, his first mother enjoyed this kind of series for the costume porn and the political backstabbing (she repeated it always made her feel better to see someone else suffer for once) and er-ge enjoyed it with her because there was guaranteed to have variously gruesome deaths for the plot to advance.

Now that he’s forced to live through one of these damn plots, his opinion managed to plummet even lower and that is one for the record books – because the freaking bar was outright lying on the floor !

Frankly, Shen Yuan can’t wait to go back to the Fragrant Palace, and he can see his a-Niang also wants it bad. If only they could leave without insulting the Heavenly Court’s hospitality, it would be great.

But when you have been personally summoned at court, you need to spend a minimal given time at court – unless the Highest Emperor gives you leave to run away, or banishes you from his presence. Banishment is basically asking for the worst kind of fate, Shen Yuan remembers favoured officials arranging accidents and all kinds of misfortune to befell the hapless protagonist of his first mother’s most enjoyed drama, so the lone viable option is the Imperial dismissal.

Which is never going to happen, because Chang’e has been missed at court. Do they have no one else to entertain them ?! Come on, one of the courtiers must be able to shake their booty without falling on their face and looking stupid ! Why do they go bother his a-Niang specifically ?

The reason ultimately is meaningless, all that matters is the cold, harsh truth of their unability to fuck off before the end of the month – why a month ? Because Grown-Up, Symbolical Reasons – and it has been strongly suggested by some royal handmaidens that the major officials would positively consider a longer sojourn in the Heavenly Palace. Thanks but no thanks, ladies ! This humble one has neither the stomach nor the qualifications for a courtier, and will happily settle in his peasant abode !

Alright, peasants likely never slept with silk sheets or possessed servants. But ! They were happy in the countryside, and that’s how Shen Yuan would like to spend his looming eternity ! Let him run amok in the marshes and fields, he will chase after the birds and collect all kinds of weird plants and try to not get eaten by monsters !

Holy crap, it’s such a beautiful vision for the future. Is he drooling ? Maybe he should stop before covering his second mother’s pretty gown with slobber, that would be quite unfilial from him otherwise – and a-Wu and a-Xian wouldn’t be appreciative of him ruining clothes they try to keep unstained and unwrinkled and reasonably good-smelling.

« Aw, is Yuan’er feeling better now ? » a-Niang coos as he discreetly swipes his mouth with his sleeve.

« Begging forgiveness for worrying you » he deftly redirects instead of answering her question, and his hair gets stroked for his effort.

« Such formality with your mother ! When did my little moondrop grow up so fast ? I bet this is the Imperial Palace’s atmosphere, it is so stuffy that it sucks all the wildness and candor out of you. Try to stay yourself when this is just both of us, hm ? »

She’s saying that with a playful tone but a worried brow, and Shen Yuan hears the warning behind her attempt at lightness : try to not lose sight of who you truly are.

Of course, she’s speaking of their current circumstances, but it’s hard to turn away from how much it applies to Shen Yuan as a whole.

He can’t forget who he is – what he is.

He can never forget.

Chapter Text

In his previous life, Shen Yuan considered flower-viewing parties less as the opportunity to recite poetry about the transient beauty and inherent frailty of life (something that he already was painfully aware of and experimented day-to-day, fuck you very much) and more of a social occasion for getting drunk with your friends right under the trees, and no one would call you out because it was traditional.

At least, that was how da-ge and er-ge and later his mei-mei told him they enjoyed the festival. Shen Yuan never attended because hay fever meant he was reduced to a wheezing, sneezing mess when he came too close from the flowering trees, and was left with huge, crimson rashes all over his throat for several days afterwards.

In his second life, however, Shen Yuan has fought off the tyranny of hay fever, kind of an obligation since he lived in the Fragrant Palace and would never have survived there otherwise, and so nothing prevents him from following his mother as a secondary guest for the Divine Mother’s chrysanthemum-viewing party. Which is organized at night, the moon almost full and hanging high in the deep black sky.

Moonlight colors the flowers with a silvery, bluish glow. It’s rather eerie and Shen Yuan secretly approves – chrysanthemums symbolize lamentation and mourning, and it doesn’t make for a cheerful presentation.

His mother decided to attend the party with chrysanthemums embroidered in silver threading on her white robes and slippers, while her elaborate bun is decorated with two freshly plucked chrysanthemum blossoms. Shen Yuan internally muses she wears plum blossoms much better, but no one can accuse the Moon fairy from not respecting the theme – every single lady present in the Divine Mother’s courtyard is wearing at least one chrysanthemum, be it on her clothes, as a hair ornament, even as a mark painted between the eyebrows.

Shen Yuan is standing out a bit in his snowed-in pine-embroidered pale green robes, and his ears are burning from the occasional glances in his direction. Why did his second mother asked for a-Xian to dress him this way ? Oh, right – pine can withstand winter instead of withering like chrysanthemums do. Now, is that an insult or is his a-Niang trying to spare him the gloomy funeral connotations by decking his clothes with something more durable ?

It could be neither, or both of these reasons – people tend to be complicated, and the Queen Mother insisted gods are even worse in this regard.

About the Divine Mother, he’s taking back every criticism he ever thought against her, she’s completely awesome and deserving of his eternal worship. She immediately called for him and his second mother to come and sit besides her, then she summoned a nightmare-eater – it very much resembles a piebald tapir, covered in black fur with a huge white spot spanning all over its back, its beady eyes clouded by a blue haze and its short nose trunk wet and warm as it sniffles and licks Shen Yuan’s fingers.

« One must be careful when summoning this silly creature » the Divine Mother fondly comments as she watches her little guest petting the beast’s white-rimmed ears. « It will eat nightmares, yes, but its appetite is often so voracious that it will snack on the good dreams too, or anything tasty-looking in the suppliant’s bedroom. There ! A live demonstration ! »

The nightmare-eater apparently thinks the fluttery ruffles peeking from under the heavily embroidered hem of a lavender gown would be a savoury meal, and turns into a black and white blur as it runs towards the goddess who picked this gown to wear and collides with her legs, sending her crashing in an undignified heap on the polished floor. There’s shrieking, first from indignation, then from horror as the creature takes a huge mouthful of silks between its teeth and starts to chew.

A goblet of milky white alcohol in her hand, the Queen Mother openly laughs when her handmaiden in the nine-coloured dress suggests she might want to intervene.

« What kind of goddess is this moaning wretch, to scare in front of a hungry pig ? » she mockingly asks, before adding : « This venerable one cannot truly command to beasts, she merely entreats them to submit to her will. And our little piggy is far too focused on its snack to listen to me. »

On Shen Yuan’s side, he doesn’t want for the nightmare-eater to get ill because it ate something not belonging to its usual diet, and he’s pretty sure dyed and bejewelled silk cloth does not figure in the food category. Alright, the beast’s regular diet consists in nightmares and it’s bound to be nasty on its own, but still !

He grabs a green-glazed bowl full of loquats, pomegranates, kumquats and spring onions sprinkled with artemisia leaves, lifts his fingers to his mouth and whistles.

The nightmare-eater pricks its ears up. Shen Yuan whistles again and throws a loquat to it, the fruit bouncing on the creature’s flank and falling to the ground. Intrigued, the creature turns away from its yowling victim, noses at the loquat and decides it’s good enough to be consumed on the spot.

Shen Yuan throws another loquat that the nightmare-eater gulps down with enthusiasm, then plucks a pomegranate in the bowl lying on his lap and makes the fruit roll towards the creature, close enough for the visually impaired beast to notice it yet far enough for the nightmare-eater to be forced to move away from the goddess it accidentally assaulted and closer from where Shen Yuan is sitting.

As Shen Yuan is busy throwing fruit to the creature to bring it back to its nominal mistress, several guests are busy fussing over the disheveled victim who doesn’t look physically injured but is throwing a hissy fit over the huge tears and big missing chunk left in her ostentatious gown. As she wails her misery for the whole room to hear, the Divine Mother’s warrior-like attendant snaps that if she can complain about her ruined dress, she can replace said dress, and why didn’t she even try to shoo the beast away if she cared so much ?

« I am a Heavenly Official ! I shouldn’t have to worry about dirty pigs escaping from their pens and bothering respectable people ! » the offended party shrieks.

« Is a respectable person one who complains and wait for someone else to fix their problems ? » the tanned and muscled beauty sneers, looking down on the other goddess so much that it fully looped around and she actually was looking up.

Shen Yuan absentmindedly listens the heated verbal exchange as he feeds the nightmare-eater a spring onion, its rough tongue licking his fingers as the creature greedily munches the vegetable offered in his open hand.

« My oh my » the Divine Mother purrs, grinning her tiger smile, « this son of yours has quite a gift with beasts, my dear girl. »

Hiding her face behing her wide sleeve, a-Niang refuses to verbally answer but from the way her shoulders are quivering, she’s probably struggling to keep her laughter contained.

Chapter Text

On the subject of gossip, Heavenly Officials would seriously give high school female student mills everywhere a run for their money. Shen Yuan and his mother have barely left the Divine Mother’s flower-viewing party (he will never complain about having a bedtime anymore, best excuse for fucking off when you’re bored to tears and praying to escape nosy goddesses far too interested in pinching yours cheeks) and already the whole Palace knows about the Eaten Dress Incident.

Because they managed to invent mobile phones – okay, they’re calling it private communication array and it’s limited to one person talking to another, but that’s nonetheless a mobile phone, which means someone is on the right track to intuit and recreate Internet ! There’s hope yet for the Upper Realm ! Inventor in waiting, no matter who you are or what kind of bureaucratic low-life you might be, this Shen Yuan believes in you and prays for your success !

Welp, mobile phones mean that when the Eaten Dress Incident occurred, more than a few goddesses who were direct witnesses (probably more than half of the guests) called a friend or a relative or some kind of acquaintance in order to share the scandalous hot topic of a Heavenly Official violently savaged by a stamping herd of ravenous wild boars that would have devoured her alive without the timely intervention of a compassionate youth who appeased the beasts through the sheer virtue and purity of his being.

At least, this is what a gleeful Xiao Yi did recount after he went to mingle with other servants – since Xiao Yi has been picked as a messenger, of course he has been tasked with information-gathering and he’s fulfilling his duty with gusto and enthusiasm. Who would have known this cute white rabbit with his black ear would be such a gossip fiend ?

He thinks the outlandish rumors are very funny and flattering, but Shen Yuan really wants to burrow himself under his bed’s blankets and pillows to emerge only after five or six kalpas, time enough for everyone to forget his very name and existence. Time enough for everyone to stop painting him as a second-rate Buddha – Shen Yuan does like his worldly attachments and doesn’t care for severing them, thank you very much ! And this stupid incident’s retelling is now growing far out of control, now people will expect things from his pitiful, useless lazy bum of self and they will inevitably be disappointed and he will be the one to pay for it !

Shen Yuan wants to cry tears of blood, but a-Ying would freak and drag him to the Imperial physician so that’s a big no-no.

The morning after the Eaten Dress Incident, Shen Yuan is woken up by the sound of his mother cursing in rather lurid terms – Wang Wang is about to faint in a corner, such crude behaviour is unbefitting of a goddess and what would Tu’er Ye say if he was there, just imagine his shock and disappointment in you, milady – as she throws various letters on the floor to be trampled or openly rips them apart.

« Wretched monkeys, always thirsty for excitement and novelty » she sneers, her pink mouth carving ugly lines in her face from the weight of her disgust. « My child isn’t a pet or toy for them to gawk at then discard when they will be bored ! »

Of course people are curious about the mysterious child of Lady Chang’e, who has been barely introduced at court and is already making waves. Not only he’s a brat in a childless realm – unless rabbit servants qualify for the very short period in which they need to grow up – the Divine Mother openly shows him favour and he apparently isn’t afraid to tame beasts. From these three ingredients, two are not conducive to lead a blissfully obscure and ignored existence.

And so Heavenly Officials are writing to Chang’e because they want to meet her son – they couch it in subtle hints in their invitations to tea parties or leisure boating or book circles (Shen Yuan confesses this last one very much tempts him) but the hidden intent drips from the paper and the ink they used to convey the messages brought by Xiao Yi in endless piles.

« Yet another one ! » the young rabbit announces as Chang’e demolishes the previous stack, something that takes them the whole day and contributes to leave the goddess in a horrible mood – even Shen Yuan hugging her, Hong’er massaging her shoulders and feet with jasmine oil and her chambermaids bringing her flaky pastries stuffed with lotus seeds paste and salted duck eggs don’t help.

When a-Niang is truly, genuinely pissed off, her eyes light up with an eerie bluish glow (not limited to her irises, the sclera also glows) while cold waves of air are exhaled by her pores and lift her clothes and hair, giving her the slightly demented allure of a demoness about to go on a rampage for heads – Kali wearing a garland of skulls around her neck and wanting another one. In spite of being perfectly safe from her anger, Shen Yuan outright shivers.

Fortunately, she doesn’t forget where they currently are, and since the origin of her distress merely is annoying instead of life-threatening, she doesn’t storm out of their lodgings to fill the Heavenly Palace’s corridors with blood and guts. Still, it’s ominous to see filaments of light twisting and rippling beneath her skin – Shen Yuan is reminded of the third Iron Man movie with the fire-virus that turned people into living bombs. Is his mother about to literally explode  ? Would she reform if she went that far ?

Ultimately, all the invitations are rejected in spite of Wang Wang tutting his disapproval and pointing it won’t endear the Moon fairy to many courtiers – they will accuse her of being haughty and seeing herself above them, of ruining her child’s opportunities when she ought to carefully consider his future.

« I am considering his future » she snaps. « Tell this goddess, what future is it to serve as a buffoon for dumb sycophants that couldn’t see the difference between their ass and their mouth without a servant to shovel food in the right orifice ? »

Hong’er is beaming as she declares this, but no matter what she says, he always worshipfully gazes at her as if she was reciting the sutras for reaching enlightenement. All of the bunnies are frowning, but it’s hard to decide if they fear the same consequences as Wang Wang or if their inner anxiety (a downside of being a rabbit, even after gaining self-awareness they’re still so fragile that they can die of fright on the spot) is activated.

Personally, Shen Yuan doesn’t care if he’s considered frigid or a snob as long as he can go home with his life, and his mother’s life too.

Chapter Text

First and foremost, a god was nothing but a narrative construct.

People enjoyed talking about fate or destiny or any kind of drivel carved from the same wood, but the truth was that a life was ultimately a story. Some were aware of this, and their ability to identify narrative patterns was considered a Heaven-granted insight into the universe’s cogs. Now, to defy or manipulate these patterns, that was something else entirely.

Chang’e hated her narrative – her story of a star-crossed love, a happy marriage ripped apart by forces beyond their control and bad luck without any hope of a sweet ending.

She hated it with the cold fury of one aware it could have been different. Star-crossed love could lead to another end than eternal, irreversible separation – you merely had to look at Zhinü and Niulang, the weaver and the cowherd reuniting on the bridge of magpies once a year.

But for every weaver and cowherd, there needed to be a pair of butterfly lovers. For every Zhinü, there needed to exist a Madam White Snake or a Lady Meng Jiang – both of them needed to exist for the one, because the world was an unfair hellhole that favored tears and grief over merriment and laughter.

Chang’e hated the narrative that arbitrarily decreed she wasn’t allowed to grow old with her husband or to share eternity with him, but that her beloved would devolve into a bloodthirsty tyrant from losing her and would be doomed to be murdered by his most faithful for his excesses, while she looked from the cold, far-away Moon, powerless to intervene.

She hated the narrative that decreed her beloved would trudge from reincarnation to reincarnation, never to remember who he had been, while she was left alone to remember and mourn someone she would never be truly reunited with.

Well, not so alone after all.

She wasn’t expecting Yuan’er – no one was expecting Yuan’er, her precious son had taken the whole Upper Realm by surprise, and she had been so scared at the very beginning, when she still was reeling from losing her husband and her humanity and now had to face the possibility of losing the unborn child growing within her.

She feared for this tiny life every day she carried him in her womb, until she finally pushed him out of her, and he had been so full of life as he screamed his first and wailed his unhappiness from being expelled out of his warm, cosy nest, and how could she not love him ?

Chang’e had loved her miraculous, lovely, wonderful child from the very beginning, long before she was brought to the Heavenly Court with him cradled in her arms and Hong’er watching her back, for the Empress of Mount Tai Bixia Yuanjun to determine his fate.

How she had longed to reject the summoning and run away instead, but she still was far too new to godhood, her faithful crimson fish far too lacking in martial experience, and so she was left trembling in repressed fury as the matron with phoenixes on her headress cooed over the infant Yuan’er and exposed oracle bones to an intense fire, cracking the tortoise shell in meaningful patterns for the fortune-teller to read.

No one had dared to breath as Bixia Yuanjun carefully examinated the ruined bones, a frown on her face.

« How queer a fate this youngling is doomed to bear » the matron ultimately declared. « This heavenly immortal confesses it confuses her, and she dares not proclaim it happy or unhappy. »

« How can it be ? » Chang’e asked, her belly twisted in a painful knot of bewilderment and fretting. « Either things are bad, or they are good – a spring onion half-blackened with rot is nothing but a rotten onion. »

« If this mother only cares about his life’s beginning, then the child’s fortune is excessively blessed » Bixia Yuanjun revealed. « He shall grow in grace and beauty, beloved by all who know him. But on the eve of his sixteenth birthday, he shall fall from the Heavenly Realm and meet a demon from the most disgraced and unholy bloodline. »

That was only because her arms were encumbered with her slumbering newborn that Chang’e did not jump on the fortune-teller to strangle and push her into her own flames.

« And this matron does not call meeting a wretched demon unfortunate ? » she had screamed instead, Hong’er tensing behind her.

« It might be, and it might be not » Bixia Yuanjun insisted. « Meeting the demon is a nexus of possibilities, many of them bad and just as many of them good. Truly, there is so many of them, this heavenly immortal dares not guess which ones are likelier to pass. »

The matron’s dark eyes had glittered from fascination or dread, it was hard to tell, maybe it was a mix of the two feelings.

« Past this point, this child will forge his own path and it will be irrevocably linked to the demon. A child of Heaven and a child of Hell, forever bound together, so it is fated, so it was decided, so it shall happen ! »

In other circumstances, the prospect of her child getting to pick what kind of narrative he would follow would have been received with the utmost joy by the new mother. However, she just couldn’t stand the idea of a demon near her beloved son.

Letting such a disgusting, lust-filled, amoral creature breath in her child’s direction, letting such a wretched beast have such power over her Yuan’er and his life, this Chang’e would rather die and never return to the wheel of reincarnation than allow it !

She couldn’t bear it, and from his revulsed grimace, she easily guessed Hong’er couldn’t stand for it either. She would bet none among the Heavenly Officials would consider such a prophecy fortunate – demons were supposed to be the lowest, and gods’ natural enemies.

Her poor Yuan’er, her poor little son. Chang’e had sobbed a lot in the following days as she rocked her baby to sleep, tormented by visions of dark clawed hands and garnet-red eyes chasing her while horrendous voices screeched at her to give her baby away.

Once her tears had stopped flowing, she asked for an estate in the countryside and immediately left for the Fragrant Palace when it was granted to her.

Many Heavenly Officials had clucked like headless chicken in front of her choice – such a beautiful woman, wasting her days surrounded by nothing but beasts and empty land, why would she even want to stay away from the bustle and vibrant occupation of the court ?

But Chang’e had no love for the glitter and glamour of a courtesan’s existence, what she needed was somewhere safe, a place in which nothing could happen , a home in which her precious son would never bruise his toe and never mind find a way to leave the Upper Realm.

So long as Yuan’er stayed safe, she would be happy.

Chapter Text

If Shen Yuan hadn’t been already convinced he’s not made for palace life, spending a whole month in the Heavenly Court to suffer crushing boredom and fits of anxiety in alternance likely would have done the job. For fuck’s sake, isn’t he a god now ? Why does he have to suffer through this ?

Well, if one listens Wang Wang – seriously, Shen Yuan wonders if the creamy yellowish rabbit is a gap moe, because a stuffy stick in the mud has no right to look so cute when he’s busy reciting every rule under the sun about a Heavenly Official’s behaviour – any true god needs to firmly and strictly follow a code of good conduct, and that means enduring things that people possessed of common sense would run away from. Because you can’t be a perfect gentleman otherwise.

Can Shen Yuan cry bullshit ? If he can’t, then he will become the worst rascal ever – he’s already on his way there, his mind pushed to the brink by the stress this so-called refined life causes him, just a smidge more and he’s guaranteed to run amok in the courtyards and gardens, shocking officials and decorative animals and servants alike with his incoherent shrieks.

Nanny might think it a lark – no, she indeed would consider it gut-burstingly hilarious, because she’s plain mean under her pretty hairstyle and her well-behaved mannerisms. The Eaten Dress Incident fully proves how far she’s ready to let someone get humiliated if she earnestly believes it will add a pinch of spice to her evening.

Fuck, now he has an argument against going mad, because the Divine Mother is going to keep him besides her if he ever indulges ! Alright, her beasties are awesome, and her handmaidens pretty nice when they’re not sniping at you, but she still lives in the Imperial Palace and Shen Yuan’s main life goal is to stay as far away as possible from the Imperial Palace !

He misses his bedroom in the Fragrant Palace, in spite of the lack of Internet and manga and chocolate. He misses walking around the gardens and dipping his feet in the ponds for the goldfishes to tickle his toes – while he’s a guest of the Highest Emperor, he’s forbidden to remove his shoes as he treads upon the soil belonging to the Emperor. He misses dressing in nothing more complicated than a jacket and long trousers – yes, court clothes are pretty but the prettiness makes him acutely aware that he’s wearing really expensive garments and he’s reduced to staying as still as possible because the possibility of a rip or a stain is too much on his poor nerves.

Living at court is far too complicated for Shen Yuan who’s at heart a very simple man with simple needs : eating, sleeping and enjoying more or less awful literature. Secluded as he is in his mother’s guest cottage, he’s unable to indulge in the third activity – a-Niang and Wang Wang closely watch his reading material, he cannot stand to enlighten them about his revolting tastes – a-Wu and a-Xian won’t let him eat too much because they claim to be concerned for his health and pudginess is supposed to vanish as a child grows up, and he’s unable to hibernate so trying to lay in bed beyond his sleep hours quota is plain boring.

And since his mother is burning all the invitations to various social events sent to them as if they were a stinking heap of filth, there’s no hope whatsoever for the situation to evolve beyond a few parties held on the Jade Mountain by the Divine Mother.

Shen Yuan doesn’t really complain because the Queen Mother of the West wanting for you to attend to her is stressing no matter the activity she wants to do – be it flower viewing or a tea party or beast-wrangling, you will escape from her clutches with a few newly gained white hairs. Well, Shen Yuan should be immune to this consequence, he already bears a head full of white hair, but it doesn’t spare him from the stress !

Have mercy on his poor heart, you great, all-powerful Golden Mother the First Ruler ! It was a sickly, frail little thing that ultimately failed its human owner in his first life, and he doesn’t care for repeating the experience !

Of course she doesn’t listen, because she’s a mean old lady – no, worse than mean, she’s bored. Shen Yuan deeply empathizes with her craving for stimulation, and okay, watching people as stuffy and dignified as the Heavenly Officials panicking like a bunch of turkeys the day before Christmas or Thanksgiving is startingly addictive in its sheer hilariousness, but he doesn’t appreciate the fact she insists for him and his mother to serve as her audience every time chaos is unleashed in her proximity.

As she proclaimed herself his teacher, he wonders what she’s trying to make him learn. How to harass people in your immediate surroundings, maybe ? How immortality is going to progressively strip him from the slightest hint of shame and general decency ? Ah, he can’t choose if he’s right or wrong, truly the Divine Mother is a mystery wrapped in a riddle. And quite irritating, even if he will never say it out loud.

Shen Yuan is finding himself envying Xiao Yi. He would like to be a small rabbit, everyone tends to ignore rabbits when they’re not busy squealing over their cuteness and that frees them to do whatever they want between two commands of their master or mistress.

Also, Shen Yuan recently learned bunnies snuggle together when they want to sleep, he walked on a-Wu and a-Xian and Wang Wang without meaning to do so because he woke up in the middle of the night and made a mistake when he tried to go and pee in the absence of light, and he almost died from cuteness overload. He wants to be buried under a pile of rabbits when he’s asleep too, but his mother immediately declined on the grounds he just won’t stop kicking and turning, and do you want for these poor servants to suffer from the lack of sleep, Yuan’er ?

Shen Yuan would be allowed to join the cuddle pile if he was a bunny. He’s a god instead, so he takes a moment to vehemently curse the shitty Underworld clerk that utterly fumbled his transmigration when his file landed on their desk.

Still, cursing is the matter of a moment, and what’s left of the month is waiting for him to endure through the passage of time. He never fully understood how much characters in a book had to live, this is always summed up in a few sentences or a little paragraph when you’re reading their stories and how much time is passing while they’re training to be a fighter or ruler or any kind of awesome thing.

Is there a way to rid himself from said understanding, please ?

Chapter Text

When the time to climb in this fancy carriage and turn back to the Fragrant Palace finally draws near, Shen Yuan is so relieved that his poor bones almost turn into water. He’s no longer a god but a pitiful jellyfish, unable to help the bunnies to pack everything back in the trunks.

His mother’s chambermaids refuse to believe his woeful declarations, tittering in amusement as he flops down on the bed and wails his muscles won’t obey his command to move no matter how strongly he thinks it. Hong’er decides to play along in a rather terrifying manner.

« A jellyfish here ? Quick, bring me some sesame oil and chili sauce, or it will deteriorate at room temperature and I will have to eat it raw ! »

Shen Yuan shrieks in delight as the huge bodyguard mimes taking a bite out of his arm, and a-Niang herself cannot help but smile.

« Truly, this goddess wonders if she has one child under her care, or two of them » she comments.

« Such are men, milady » a-Xian says with the long-suffering tone of one very well-informed on the world’s reality and sorry about it. « They never manage to mature all the way, and us poor women are forced to pick up the slack. »

Xiao Yi’s whiskers indignantly twinge and Wang Wang hisses quite loudly, but they don’t bother complaining more than this. A major tenet of domestic harmony is to abstain from upsetting the ladies because they can and will mercilessly crush you otherwise. And if you’re acting really henpecked, there’s a chance for them to feel guilty and give you a break, so feminism for the win !

Sometimes, Shen Yuan muses any future bride of him will have an easy time of it, since he basically needs nothing more than being fed, watered and left alone. Kinda like a houseplant, but a walking and talking one. Truly, no reason to fear he will bully a spouse, it would ask too much energy and imagination from his part !

But wedding considerations are for the future. In the present time, Shen Yuan still is roped into personally thanking the Queen Mother of the West for her gracious hospitality towards the dumb child he is, and promising he will regularly write to her.

Damnit, he believed he could skimp on this chore by claiming he was far too young still to know his characters or to use a brush, only for Wang Wang to decide his ability to handle court life without immediately falling to pieces means he can handle writing with a brush and inkstone.

Shen Yuan is no fortuneteller yet he’s able to predict his near-future will be very dark indeed. Ink-black and splattering everything it can touch, he was hopelessly clumsy in the fingers before his transmigration and knowing his luck it didn’t change in this new world.

Well, maybe he can send the Divine Mother a sheet of paper covered in stains and she will be satisfied with it ? As long as he claims this is modern art, it should be alright…

Xiwangmu grins a toothy smile as she pats him on the head and declares she will wait for word of him – and holy shit, that’s the most horrible thing he ever heard, including er-ge musing about how he would try and commit a perfect murder, he had genuinely believed the Shen family had produced the kind of lunatic that enjoys chopping people to bits with a rusted axe for twitching wrong.

Thinking of it, er-ge would be flattered to lose his crown as Scariest of Them All to the Divine Mother so long as she deserves the title. Shen Yuan hopes these two will never be able to meet, or the world would be traumatized into exploding.

He also gets kissed on the cheeks by Xiwangmu’s flurry of handmaidens, except for Xuan’er – whose true name apparently is Jiutian Xuannü, foremost expert in warfare, martial magic and sexual practices, what the fuck, did she never heard the slogan make love, not war – who pinches his cheek and has the gall to laugh when he hisses at her. This one, he won’t miss at all.

Once again, Hong’er carries him in his huge arms to the carriage – sometimes Shen Yuan almost thinks his personal Hagrid’s most secret ambition is to serve as his packmule, guy certainly spends a lot of occasions carrying his lazy ass everywhere, but that isn’t like it tires him very much, Hong’er is so fucking ripped and his muscles actually are quite comfy – while Shen Yuan carefully hides his tiny, light-sensitive face in the crook of his bodyguard’s neck and relaxes when his mother draws the screen over the windows, plunging them in darkness.

« So that’s it » he declares, and his voice quivers with relief and excitation. « We’re going home. »

« Yes, we are, moondrop » a-Niang confirms with a dazzling smile – literally dazzling, bluish light softly glowed right under her skin, so elated was she to come back that she couldn’t control her powers this time. « To the Fragrant Palace. »

« Mm, good » he sighs as he sits on her lap, as the carriage quivers then starts to move, surrounded by the thunder of their protective detail’s footsteps. « Yuan’er missed his bedroom. »

« Aw » a-Ying laments, and her ears are drooping in mock defeat, « did Young Master not miss his faithful servants ? My poor aunts will have their hearts broken . Broken, I say. »

Shen Yuan knows she’s trying to manipulate him yet damn if it doesn’t work. His meimei thought she had him wrapped around her little finger, but a fluffy bunny peering at you with shiny, wet eyes isn’t something you can defend against. Too powerful !

« A-Ying » he wails, « please don’t tell ! »

« This one might be persuaded to keep quiet on the matter » the rabbit nanny mournfully concedes, but she was planning for her bribe from the very beginning, « just might... »

Shen Yuan admits his defeat and hugs her. A rabbit is unable to purr when happy but a-Ying does her best impression of the feline vocalization, her ears twitching in contentment.

It suddenly dawns on him that he cares for her – for every one of these rabbits calling the Fragrant Palace home, with their so-expressive ears and their habit to be right there when he needs a snuggle and their endless fussing over the Palace and its mistress and little master.

He missed these rabbits when he was living in the Heavenly Palace. Just like you go home after a long vacation, and you suddenly understand you missed your house right as you have opened the door and passed the treshold. This is a longing so deeply interwoven in your being, you don’t even think about it – because it is your very life, and you’re far too focused on living it.

He doesn’t even remember when he started to care, he just knows he does .

Chapter Text

Homecoming is noisy, sorry but there’s no other word for it. Rabbit depictions in culture as quiet are a big, filthy lie, because they certainly are animated when happy.

« Mistress is back ! Mistress is back ! »

«  Young Master is back ! »

« Welcome back ! Welcome home ! »

Wang Wang scrunches his nose in front of his tribe’s utter lack of decorum, but Shen Yuan laughs as bunnies swarm the carriage, their red and brown and yellowish eyes wet with happiness as he pats them on the head.

A-niang also pats one or two bunnies on their long ears before advancing in the gravel alley, the bunnies scuttling away from her path in a furry, black and white imitation of the Red Sea in front of Moses, to allow her to walk to Tu’er Ye – who is looking at his many, many descendants with a grumpy expression, but Shen Yuan cannot tell if the steward feels exasperation or resignation in front of the other rabbits’ antics. It might be both.

« Madam Shen » the Lord Leveret greets the Moon fairy, bowing in a perfect way, « the Fragrant Palace is happy to see you and yours between these walls. »

« This goddess had no idea » Chang’e says, and her mouth is twitching because she’s blatantly and shamelessly snarking, she would have to be blind and deaf in order to be sincere in saying this after her servants’ demonstration.

Hong’e snickers. He has a rabbit sitting on both of his boots, but it doesn’t stop him from helping with the luggage’s unloading.

Tu’er Ye doesn’t laugh, but his bitch face deepens. One day, he seriously will have wrinkles and Shen Yuan will be sad – if you can find something more tragic than a bunny so grumpy it carved lines in its face, he’s really not interested in learning of it, his heart won’t be able to deal.

« This one would present to Madam Shen the ledgers and reports he compiled while milady was attending the Highest Emperor » the steward announces, likely to avoid acknowledging that his mistress has a sense of humour. « If it pleases milady, of course. »

« And what if it doesn’t please this goddess ? » a-Niang mildly asks.

This time, Tu’er Ye looks nothing short of defeated.

« This one’s sisters-in-law have prepared tea and snacks for milady and the Young Master » he confesses, and you would believe he’s going to the dentist for his teeth to be pulled one at the time, « to let them recover from their travel. »

Free snacks ? A-Yan, a-Li ! Forget every compliment this Shen Yuan ever paid to the Imperial cooks’ dishes, truly you are worthy to be elevated as goddesses in your own right ! How this Young Master missed you !

His excitement must be obvious on his face, since a-Niang raises an amused eyebrow at him. He blinks back at her, trying to look as pathetic and hungry as possible.

« You little glutton » she fondly calls him. « Well, the Young Master has decided for both of us, it seems. Lead the way, Tu’er Ye. »

The steward deeply bows before obeying his goddess’ command, his whiskers drooping a bit from the weight of his disapproval. Does he think his glum face would make his masters lose their appetites if he keeps it long enough ? A sound strategy, but alas forgetting to take in account that Shen Yuan has grown with the rabbit constantly frowning over his shoulder and developped some degree of immunity as a consequence.

Yes, even going away for a month won’t be long enough for the effect to fade. Better luck next time !

On the subject of going away for a whole month… it definitely feels strange to be home again. The servants took pain to ensure the Fragrant Palace would stay as clean and orderly as their mistress likes, so there’s no errant dust or rancid air lingering in the corners and yet some weird impression is stubbornly bent on plonking its butt here and not letting itself be expelled from the grounds.

How strange, to have to relearn your home. Shen Yuan goes to his bedroom, and he cannot help but impulsively checking on his toys and picture books, verifying if no one moved them from the spot he left them. He wonders if his mother does the same, in her own bedroom.

One thing he knows for sure, his mother is going to visit the shrine at the first opportunity and narrate how they managed to survive as guests in the Heavenly Court to the tablet waiting in this small room.

Some people have a diary. Some people have friends to call. Shen Yuan’s mother has a funeral tablet.

He wonders if he ought to accompany her, but what would he say ? The words just won’t leave his throat every time she brings him at the shrine, he never knows what he’s supposed to tell, so it’s far better for him to stay mute.

A-niang noticed this, of course. She still gently encourages him to try and talk, not even a big lecture, just a hello and a good-bye, you know ? But he can’t bring himself to do so, not even out of love for her.

Once, he asked Hong’er if it was alright for him to act in such a way – he was rather tired this evening, and very much felt like the four-year-old brat he appeared to be.

Hong’er had taken his time to answer Shen Yuan, and when he did, his voice sounded more than slightly sad.

« Mourning is something very personal, Young Master. This one wouldn’t think you are a naughty child for not expressing your pain just like your esteemed mother would. »

« But I am not in pain » Shen Yuan had shamefully confessed, « I never even met this person. »

« It doesn’t mean the absence of this person cannot leave a mark upon you. »

A dead person indeed could leave an imprint on the ones they had interacted with – and they could use a lot of space in the process. Quite an elephant in the room but as a ghost.

Shen Yuan wonders if this elephant will decide to slim down a bit in the future. Living with sadness – you can’t do this forever, or you will choke on it and die. He knows it was always harder for his health when he felt exhausted by his chronic unability to get better.

But it was then. Shen Yuan is nothing but a creature of the present – he has to be, or he would collapse from anxiety and despair.

Chapter Text

Now that he had proven he could survive the Heavenly Court, Shen Yuan had been deemed ready to learn the Six Arts and forge himself into a respectable person, one who acts morally no matter the circumstances.

He personally doesn’t understand why he needs to impress anyone. Come on, he already died ! Give him a break ! And if that isn’t enough, he’s a god ! Surely, he can’t reach further in the ladder of beings ?

Neither Wang Wang or a-Ji consider the latter argument – because Shen Yuan won’t discuss his transmigration with someone not already in the know, yes it’s a fucking short list but he doesn’t care – as worthy to be entertained.

« The path to self-improvement and righteousness is one without a fixed end » Wang Wang pompously declares, dry and humourless, and Shen Yuan is shriveling inside. « Young Master being born an Immortal is a good beginning, but it won’t be enough if his pure virtue is to brightly shine and lead others to follow his example. »

Who wants to be an example ? Shen Yuan never expressed such a wish ! Stop putting words in his mouth, or he’s going to cry rivers of blood !

« Does Young Master want for his esteemed mother to lose face, next time the Highest Emperor will summon her before his throne, and she will have to confess her beloved son grew to be a scoundrel caring for nothing but his personal gain ? » a-Ji sternly asks in a very ominous tone – he’s a rabbit ! He’s supposed to be fluffy and cuddly, why is he threatening this poor Young Master ?

And by the way, Shen Yuan is quite happy to be a scoundrel ! He’s a very self-contained one, and causes injure to no one, so let him be !

Such a misfortune for him to be so easily bullied, then. It doesn’t help when the chambermaids and gardeners and cooks come to see him and tearfully marvel at the education he’s slated to receive, so utterly convinced he’s going to make them proud and turn into a perfect, proper little gentleman.

How is he supposed to cruelly dash their illusions by unveiling his true lazy nature ? His meimei would slaughter him for such meanness – yes, he’s dead and now a resident from another dimension entirely, but she nonetheless would find a way, so spoiled rotten by their parents and her three doting older brothers that she just won’t consider no as a possible answer, even if reality itself is saying so.

So he’s stuck with lessons – and it sucks. It sucks worse than a starving vampire – more than a giant squid – more than a heavy-grade vacuum. His lone consolation is that four years old still is far too young for him to learn chariotry, and thank fuck for this ! Shen Yuan never managed to obtain his driving licence in his previous life and cars are not as complicated as horses ! He doesn’t get horses at all, My Little Pony is a big fat lie when claiming ponies are sweet and friendly, they are huge, temperamental beasts that only care about eating your hair and not listening when you’re begging them to move their ass.

Not too young for archery, though. Hong’er carved a tiny bow for him to practise, with the promise to gift him another when he will outgrow the current one, and he takes him to collect feathers from the birds living in the gardens to fletch tiny arrows with glue and silk thread.

A-niang sometimes watches Hong’er trying to teach Shen Yuan how to shoot at a stationary target without bruising his fingers or the inside of his arm with the bowstring. She looks a bit wistful and a bit sad and she never tells a thing, except once for when Shen Yuan had just started and suggested he might not have the gift for archery.

« Of course you do. You will see. »

Shen Yuan wonders why exactly she has so much faith in him, but he doesn’t dare to show more disbelief after her intervention. Who knows, maybe he won’t end up a disaster if he does his best.

Calligraphy is considered high-priority since the Queen Mother of the West wants for regular news, and that involves characters to be written correctly, legible and aesthetically pleasing. Shen Yuan mainly succeeds in covering his desk, his hands, his sleeves and even his face with ink. Give him pens anyday, it’s so much easier to use than brushes !

A-Ying openly laughed at him the first time she scrubbed him after a lesson, playfully asking if he was jealous of her beautiful dark fur and wanted to imitate her by splattering his pale complexion with black ink ? Because that would be rather nice from you, Young Master, but just look at your clothes, who do you think will be saddled with cleaning these stains !

Shen Yuan didn’t say anything to her, he was busy dying from shame. Well, not actually, but it certainly had felt like it.

Even when he’s safely away from the Heavenly Court, the Divine Mother nonetheless manages to ruin his life. This old biddy is far too powerful !

When rites are spoken of, they’re mainly related to proper governmental leadership, and how rules of propriety and good custom keep the three realms in harmony. Wang Wang and a-Ji and Tu’er Ye really enjoy stressing how important it is for Shen Yuan to fully open himself to the entire spectrum of interaction with people and nature and material objects, and that’s quite intimidating for one that was a sickly shut-in in his previous life.

Also, all these rules relating to good behaviour, it would be easier to accidentally break one than constantly follow them all ! And Shen Yuan definitely would  !

He almost preferes his mathematics lessons – no matter the universe, you couldn’t escape maths, he wants to scream at the unfairness of it, he’s going to lose his marbles from studying maths. Oh wait, insanity is a prerequisite in order to become a mathematician. And his tutors want for him to excell in the subject.

Curse this fucking Underworld clerk for fumbling his transmigration ! Curse them ! Shen Yuan could be enjoying the life of a pampered, useless fat cat instead of slaving over the Book on Numbers and Computation  ! He will never forgive a slight of such tremendous proportions !

And finally, there’s music. Shen Yuan has no idea whatsoever of who is the freaking jokester believing he would be suited to play a moon guitar , and he wonders if he’s going to kiss them or strangle them for their dedication to a theme.

He feels a greater affinity for the xiao, anyway.

Chapter Text

Chang’e always did love to dance.

When she still was a girl-child whose mother called Heng’e, a silly girl wearing hemp clothes and stealing lotus seeds to eat, she danced on the river’s banks.

« Heng’e ! » her mother called, « you will need to grow up one day. You cannot dance always ! »

When she still was a young maiden whose hair couldn’t be let down anymore, a silly maiden embroidering her dress with clouds and running after the rabbits her family kept for stew and fur, she danced among the whispering reeds.

« Heng’e ! » her siblings called, « you will need to marry someday. You cannot dance always ! »

When she still was a young bride whose husband bestowed another name upon her, a silly bride dining on rice and duck meat for the midday and adorning her neck and arms with turquoise and bronze jewellery, she danced in her new house’s courtyard.

« Chang’e ! » her husband called, « you will hurt your feet one day. You cannot dance always ! »

When she still was a newly-ascended goddess whose child had barely been born, a silly goddess sobbing a river of tears flowing from her broken heart and struggling with the fact she would never return to the realm she grew in, she danced in the Heavenly Palace’s halls.

« Chang’e ! » the Highest Emperor called. « you will need to practise every day. And you shall dance always ! »

She was gifted silk gowns and embroidered slippers to wear, pearl necklaces and silver hairpins to adorn her, tutors to learn how to enhance her grace and beauty, the courtyard of her choice to spin around, and she practised.

Now she was a fully-fledged goddess whose face was carved from flawless jade, an impassive goddess looking down upon the human realm with a twinge of regret in her heart and walking instead of running everywhere, and she danced in the Fragrant Palace’s gardens.

She had danced when she still was a mortal, and she still danced now that she was a goddess. She had danced when she was a girl and she had danced when she was a bride and she had danced when she was a young mother. She danced when she was happy and she danced when she was sad.

She danced in her inner robes and with her hair unbound, she danced in her court robes and with her hair tightly braided in a bun. She danced barefoot and she danced in wooden shoes and she danced in silk slippers. She danced with her ankles and her wrists bare, she danced with her ears and her waist laden with precious stones and metals. She danced with her hand empty and she danced holding a fan. She danced without a hint of rouge on her eyelids and she danced with powder on her forehead.

Chang’e always did love to dance. This love had followed her in every single part of her life, had been there since the very beginning of her.

People loved to watch her dance. Her grumbling mother and her nonplussed siblings had watched her dance and her adoring husband had watched her dance. The Heavenly Officials and the Highest Emperor watched her dance. Her little crimson fish and her rabbit servants watched her dance.

Her son watched her dance for the first time when she was summoned back at the Imperial Palace for the Moon Festival. It was a time for harvest and happiness, and people were happy when they watched her dance, so the Highest Emperor called for her and she came.

Her son watched her dance for the first time in the Heavenly Court. He watched her dance anew after their homecoming, the day after their arrival, when she went to the gardens and was unaware he was present there.

« A-niang ! » her son called, « I shall like to be as graceful as you someday. Then both of us could dance together always ! »

And for the first time, Chang’e almost tripped as she spun around.

People loved to watch her dance. People never wanted to disturb her dance with their clumsiness. People always declined to dance with her.

She always danced alone. She was the Moon lost among the stars – the most brilliant light in the sky, and forever set apart.

Yet her little moondrop was looking at her with shining eyes of quicksilver and asked for her to let him come in her dance.

It was – she was – how was she supposed to feel, except for the urge to cry and a love so deep she wanted to shy away from it ?

Her son was small and clumsy and graceless, and when Chang’e still was called Heng’e she had been small and clumsy and graceless, and she danced anyway. Polishing came later, and she would sent for tutors if he needed them, but the first steps – she wanted for no one else but her to show him.

She wanted for his beginner’s enthusiasm to be hers and only hers. She wanted for him to grab her arm every time he fumbled and stumbled. She wanted every little mistake he would commit to be corrected by her.

Her son was small and clumsy and graceless and complained a lot about his sore feet and how stupid he surely looked, and his smile as she helped him to position his hands and dip his head was dazzling. He was the pole star guiding the exhausted traveller home, constant and reassuring.

Wasn’t that pitiful for a goddess, to rely so much on a young child ? Yet she couldn’t bring herself to stop, as her whole world slowly revolved around him, as she taught him the steps to create his own dance and exclude her.

But no matter how much she waited for him to start experimenting on his own, he always came back to her, always begged for her to let him come in, for her to come in his dance.

They were a pair of binary stars, slowly revolving together around a common center.

Her son was small and clumsy and graceless and one day he would cease to be all of these three things, and he would glow with his own light. Chang’e couldn’t wait to see that happen and she wanted for it to never happen.

Would he run away from her ? Would both of them be destroyed in a nova to light the night sky for a million years ? She wondered about it, but this day was a long, long time to come in the far future.

And so she danced, and her son danced with her, in the Fragrant Palace’s gardens, this day and the day after and many days after this one.

Chapter Text

So Shen Yuan is taking dance classes – with his mother as the teacher. She’s rather intimidating in this position because holy shit, the Moon fairy has no idea whatsoever of what a half-measure is, when she gives a demonstration it’s all or nothing. Either you will feel hopelessly outclassed after watching her, or you will foolishly believe you have a chance to mimic her peerless grace only to fail time and again.

Because Shen Yuan has nothing but fluff between his ears – his parents in his first life just wouldn’t stop complaining about it, what are we to do with a child who refuses to take life seriously – he picks the second option. And he stumbles and trips and generally looks like a potato sack shaking its fat butt after drinking too much.

A-Ying claims he’s the cutest vision one walker could glimpse in the garden. Shen Yuan is slightly impressed by her ability to lie so openly and not lose her nerve – must be the fur, it hides any hint of traitorous blushing. Behind her, the gamekeepers and gardeners nod and vocally support the bunny nanny, have you no shame preying on a toddler’s naivety and blatant faith in the people helping to raise him ?

« Has Young Master considered that maybe, his servants are genuine ? » Hong’er very seriously asks when Shen Yuan bemoans his fate in front of him, and receives such an incredulous look for the query that he immediately shuts his mouth but keeps an awful little smirk twisting his lips for several days afterward.

His mother never laughs at his failures. She never tries to reassure him with false platitudes either. She merely tells him to raise his arm a bit more, to turn his foot just like this, that’s it, that’s better, you’re doing so much better than when we started, but don’t even think it’s an excuse to slack off, do you want to continue falling on your butt, Yuan’er ?

The thing is, Shen Yuan had no intention to learn dancing. He already has enough on his plate with the Six Arts, calligraphy and archery and rites and whatnot, why would he want to add yet another kind of training in his busy schedule ? And a physical one, mind you !

The thing is, Shen Yuan was passing through the gardens, and he heard the whisper of silk on the air, and he went to see what was happening. His mother was dancing barefooted and her hair half-undone on the grass studded with fallen apricot blossoms, and she looked – not happy, not at peace, but she looked more herself than when she glittered with silks and jewels in front of the Highest Emperor.

The thing is, Shen Yuan had wanted to jump in and dance with her because she seemed she was having fun, and life is supposed to be about experimenting new things and Shen Yuan was too sickly in his first life to dance on dewy grass, even with his shoes on.

The thing is, Shen Yuan confessed his mother this wish he briefly had. He didn’t think she would interpret this as him wishing to learn how to dance ! Come on, a-Niang, can’t you see the difference between a fleeting impulsion and a genuine passion ? It’s easy to do, your lazy, useless good-for-nothing son won’t manifest the latter no matter the circumstances !

But he won’t say that to her. Not when she’s so intensely present in their impromptu lessons, so utterly focused on showing him the right way to move, explaining him what it means to step right instead of left.

Chang’e loves dancing. It’s not a love born from mastery of the craft, she loves dancing with the uncomplicated purity of a girl who decided to practice since she was able to toddle without falling flat on her nose. She loves dancing as one would love breathing, because her life just wouldn’t be without it.

Shen Yuan can’t tell his mother he’s not so invested in learning how to dance. She wouldn’t understand. She might have her heart broken to pieces, if there’s still a big enough part of her heart left intact from her previous trials.

So he keeps quiet except for whining and moaning about his painful elbows and knees (and she kisses him on the aching joints when the lesson ends), he carefully listens and lets her gently position his limbs before trying a sequence. After all, it doesn’t hurt anyone (well, he ’s hurting but who cares) for him to try and make his mother happy this way.

People definitely did worse in order to please their parents, and isn’t pleasing your parents a duty ? Shen Yuan isn’t the kind of wretched scum that would disrespect his mother, and she’s not asking him to commit murder or study to become a lawyer, so there. Everyone can live with the current situation.

Hong’er definitely approves.

« A son should honour his father » he says right after concluding an archery session, in which Shen Yuan didn’t got the bullseye but nonetheless shot three arrows of five in the target, « but he shouldn’t forget he has a mother too. »

« I know this » a faintly puzzled Shen Yuan declares, and he gets his head patted for his effort.

« You know this, and she knows this, but we all need a small reminder sometimes. Won’t you agree, Young Master ? »

Seriously, Hong’er is fantastic as a bodyguard and pack mule, but he’s a disaster when he opens his mouth and attempts to be philosophical. Apparently, his personal Hagrid is unable to mix and match the two job classes Warrior and Poet in spite of trying his best. Shen Yuan feels for the guy, he truly does, and he most certainly prays for the giant to understand the sheer futility of his endeavour, because a cryptic servant will only give headaches to their master instead of advice.

Yeah, that’s pretty sad, but Hong’er just doesn’t have the look for it. Some jobs need for the postulant to look the part – and to his not-so-hidden shame, Shen Yuan indeed has a dancer’s build.

Well, he’s a chubby brat for now, but his mother’s chambermaids swear he will grow up to be slender and tall, they should know because they spent a full month and some dressing him so if someone has any idea about his future proportions it’s going to be them.

Shen Yuan really hopes they will be proven right, because he’s tired of being small. He’s tired of being cute – even if it’s his greatest weapon to unleash when he wants another sweet or begs for being carried, and no, he won’t lose sleep over losing it.

He really won’t.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan doesn’t know how many days it takes him to finally get the trick of using a brush without covering something else than paper with ink. Time is weird in the Upper Realm – how did the Divine Mother explain it ? A Jeremy Bearimy timeline, because it’s moving in a loop and as such can only be described with a word filled with cursive.

Fuck, it’s screwy trying to calculate his real age, and that’s not taking in account his godly nature. According his faithful a-Ying, an Immortal born as such will have weird growing patterns : they can start talking and walking barely a few kè after their birth, or they can linger in the womb for three years. So yeah, the Fragrant Palace is closely monitoring him just in case he suddenly decides to wake up in the throes of puberty.

If he had control over the whole process, Shen Yuan would entirely skip puberty – that is an experience he’s not eager to endure again. Oh, maybe he’s fated to become the god of sulky teenagers everywhere, prayed in order to escape the dreadful curse of zits ! He certainly would achieve popularity and he wouldn’t have to fear oblivion, no way for people to forget a truly useful deity !

But if he wants to grow up into a god worth his salt, as Wang Wang just won’t stop repeating, he needs to master the fundamentals. So far, he now is able to write more or less cleanly, but he needs to learn what to write.

That is when his lessons in calligraphy and rites crossbreed together and create an awfully monstruous offspring, a-Ji and Tu’er Ye teaming up to read over his shoulder and relentlessly pointing the slightest mistake in the polite courtesies they force him to copy until his poor little fingers cramp and he begs for mercy.

Such slave drivers ! How dare they ? Where are the laws protecting minors from merciless labour ? Forget the age he died in his previous life, and forget the looping timeline in his current universe, Shen Yuan is pretty sure he’s not old enough for being ignored when he’s worked to the bone ! Police ! He wants to report a crime in progress !

« Young Master is so talented » Hong’er declares when Shen Yuan tries to complain to his personal Hagrid, « he already writes much better than this lowly servant. »

Shen Yuan’s handwriting is barely legible on his best days, but he has seen the towering bodyguard try to copy a poem for a reason or another. In his huge hands, scarred and powerful from wielding blades and sticks, two brushes have been crushed to shards, and the paper was covered with soggy stains so wet that it crumbled when a-Ji picked it up.

Needless to say, Hong’er concluded he might not be suited for a scholar’s life and went back to martial training and pest-control. His attempt to comfort Shen Yuan is well-meaning, but a blind frog drunk off its ass would write better than Hong’er.

Shen Yuan doesn’t get poetry. He really doesn’t – he’s merely able to spit back bits of lyrics to pop songs he listened in his previous life, and Wang Wang wrongly concludes he’s a genius.

Listen, the original singers and songwriters live in another dimension entirely, and Shen Yuan really needs to cover his own ass, okay ? This way, he can introduce boy band and jazz music to grounds it would never have touched otherwise, so they should fall to their knees and grovel in gratitude !

It’s a mite easier to learn rote sentences you blandly serve when the situation asks it – social graces have been so codified, there’s one for any situation Shen Yuan can possibly imagine. It’s hellish to learn all of them, he’s pretty certain he’s forgetting half of it and his brain threatens to melt and drip from his nostrils and ears under the strain, but Tu’er Ye refuses to give him slack and insists nothing short of perfection will be acceptable.

When he finally produces a letter to the Divine Mother that’s not immediately considered good for the trash heap, Shen Yuan is so proud he bursts into tears. A-Yan gives him lotus seed pastries to comfort him, and he hugs her with such strength she actually squeals – archery training does grant muscled arms, who would have thought ?

Said letter is such a perfect example of social graces it expresses absolutely nothing. It’s rather impressive, in a depressing way, to learn how to waste paper without giving information to your message’s intended receiver.

Being already familiar with the Imperial Palace, Xiao Yi is entrusted with the letter’s delivery. His whiskers are quivering as he solemnly bids goodbye to the other bunnies living in the Fragrant Palace before his departure, and Shen Yuan lets his anxiety out as he watches the gates closing behind the young bunny.

« What if he gets eaten ? »

« Then he gets eaten » Wei Wei shrugs, as if one of her sons isn’t threatened with death at this moment. « Xiao Yi is aware of the Upper Realm’s dangers, Young Master, and still he accepted to serve as your esteemed mother’s courier. We learned to live with the eventuality of his near demise – but we are a prey species, this is nothing new to us. »

This… is cold, and also sadly expected from the bunny servants. They achieved such a blasé attitude towards their own mortality, Shen Yuan cannot help but admire them and contemplate how inferior his own detachment regarding his previous demise is.

Xiao Yi doesn’t die, on the week and a half he’s away from the Fragrant Palace. He comes back muddy and exhausted but gleefully triumphant, bearing the answer to Shen Yuan’s letter that he pompously delivers to the intended recipient before his many siblings whisk him to the kitchens for quizzing him about his odyssey and stuff him with sweets (at least, what is held as such among the rabbits).

The Queen Mother of the West is quite impressed by Shen Yuan’s flawless copy of bland polite graces, and muses she never imagined it was possible to train a parrot to write. Next time, she would like for the Young Master himself to compose the message, instead of his pet. Also, she had found a lovely book of folk poetry in her personal library and was joining it to this letter, it should give the Young Master some inspiration in his studies to become a perfect gentleman !

Tu’er Ye doesn’t explode from sheer outrage because this is the Divine Mother calling his teaching results sucky, but his long white ears are quivering with rage as he glares at the hapless silk-bound book that came with the message.

Shen Yuan doesn’t openly laugh. Much.

Chapter Text

Since his education has began, Shen Yuan spends a lot of time in the library nowaday.

This is a huge, airy room with bigs lattice windows allowing for a lot of light, filled with towering bookshelves carved from camphor laurel for its insect-repellant quality and the stubborn whiff of perfume clinging to the scrolls and books entrusted to it. Silvery bamboo mats cover the floor, weakly crackling whenever a visitor is moving around too much.

Every time the mats crinkle, Xiao Lan will suddenly appear behind the offender, glaring with all his might and the power invested in him as a librarian – and holy crap, why would Tu’er Ye ever think it would be an excellent idea to let one of his many, many offspring inherit his legendary bitch-face ? A rabbit shouldn’t be that scary !

Shen Yuan actually burst into tears the first time Xiao Lan turned his glare against him, already anticipating the nightmares he would suffer for the upcoming week. The white rabbit with yellow spots on his head and forepaws (giving off the impression that he has donned a cap and gloves) crumbled a bit in front of the Young Master’s obvious distress, but nonetheless firmly maintained he wouldn’t stand for noise in the library. It was a place of knowledge and study, if the Young Master wishes to make noise, the gardens are open to him.

Shen Yuan has listened to the badly disguised command, and Xiao Lan has found no other opportunity to terrify him since this day. On the other hand, he will often harass Hong’er for being so big he just can’t help himself, he will disturb the peace by his heavy footsteps or his bones groaning – or the occasional fart, Hong’er was extremely upset and shame-faced about this, and Xiao Lan extremely displeased as he frantically vented himself and opened all the windows while he yelled at the pale giant of a bodyguard for befouling his domain’s air.

Now, Hong’er doesn’t even enter the library : he stands besides the door, or he knocks at the windows giving on the gardens to signal he’s there and wants to be sure everything is alright. It’s rather funny, in a helicopter parent way.

Shen Yuan is used to people checking on him, but in his previous life, the doctors and nurses and his relatives just wanted to confirm he was still breathing. It’s a bit weird to have his personal Hagrid doing it because he thinks his Young Master might be bored or needing to change his mind.

Shen Yuan doesn’t think he could get bored in the Fragrant Palace’s library, so long as he’s allowed to explore the bookshelves without a-Ying or Wang Wang or a-Ji or Xiao Lan breathing down his neck, what are you looking at, Young Master, this is not where poetry or mathematics essays are put when you have no need for them !

Of course, there is a whole bookshelf for poetry, another one for mathematics and one for astronomy and one for music, and still so many more bookshelves for so many subjects because an Immortal reads a lot, they have eternity in front of them so having an interest in a substantial number of fields is expected. Even if you start obsessed by one single thing, you will have to branch just because you want some novelty after a millenia or two.

So a huge library is a very important part of an Immortal’s house, with as much variety as possible in its contents. And that means there has to be a section for novels.

Shen Yuan misses reading novels. Alright, his tutors genuinely give him engaging material to consume when he tells them he wants a break from constantly studying, but this is always nonfiction. Even the most detailed, most luridly written history manual is nonfiction.

Shen Yuan misses novels in which it’s blatantly apparent that the plot and characters and worldbuilding are not real. He misses novels filled with so much plotholes they are more of a sieve than a fully-fledged book. He misses novels confusing their facts and written in such a crummy style he doesn’t understand what they are trying to say.

Yes, Shen Yuan has a guilty pleasure for bad novels. Nothing more satisfying than tearing these pieces of trash apart and loudly curse the author for being unimaginative and not fully exploiting their potential. On this, he will have to concede Proud Immortal Demon Way has been his not-favourite novel, because it was such a shitfeast.

It actually didn’t start this way : the Cang Qiong Mountain Arc was genuinely engaging, with the Protagonist struggling to learn cultivation in spite of his teacher and martial brothers’ blatant, relentless hostility. The Endless Abyss Arc had been the opportunity to learn more about the Demon Realm – oh, all these weird creatures, Shen Yuan still is drooling when he remembers the fauna Luo Binghe had to fight or evade or cajole into letting him alone – so it retained some quality in spite of Xin Mo’s introduction.

Then the Protagonist joined the Huan Hua Palace, and the plot had devolved into nothing but papapa, papapa and more papapa, with the occasional bloody revenge – Luo Binghe had no sense of restrain, he would make it protracted and painful while the readers cheered him on, because people have no shame and no decency when they can hide behind a computer screen. Sometimes, Shen Yuan had wondered why he was keeping his subscription and paying for every new chapter to be published.

And now, Shen Yuan is living in another dimension entirely, and he will never have the opportunity to strangle Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky for squandering such a promising story. Alright, the author never had attended a single convention, but Shen Yuan is pretty sure it only had been a matter of time !

It sucks. It really sucks to be deprived of this disaster trying and failing to pass as literature – Shen Yuan is left on his own, wondering if the author suddenly achieved enlightenment and turned the plot around. It didn’t look very likely when he died, but he certainly wasn’t expecting he would be reincarnated as a Moon fairy’s baby, so he can hope in spite of everything.

Oh well, he will have to comfort himself with the trashy novels he can get in the Upper Realm. There has to exist a literature god or someone in charge of written entertainment, whose job only manages to produce flame-bait garbage ! No matter how much the guys in charge try to weed the bad seeds, one or two just seem to find their way in the batch.

But of course, Shen Yuan needs to find novels to begin with. What a deprived existence he leads.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan’s memories from his previous life are a mite fuzzy around the edges (and he doesn’t know why, he doesn’t know if it’s mere trauma from his rebirth or a slow, still ongoing process crawling upon him just like illness and he hates the latter possibility so much he cannot breath), but he nonetheless remembers er-ge playing music.

His brother used to enjoy guitar the most, since he travelled in France and discovered a dude named Brassens. He also played ukulélé because it was a downsized guitar, when you know the basis for one it’s easy to adapt to the other, he repeated, but it’s easier to travel with a ukulélé, it’s not so big an instrument.

Of course, er-ge had learnt more traditional instruments too, as their parents wanted for him to look like a young gentleman. Well, he certainly would play the guqin, but he would keep his ripped jeans and skull t-shirt to do so – the contrast was hilarious, even if Mama and Papa Shen’s pinched faces showed how little they enjoyed it.

Er-ge had taken Shen Yuan with him for music lessons, at the beginning. When Shen Yuan stopped coming, half because he wasn’t interested and half because his health just took a turn for the worse and he never quite mustered the energy again after the crisis passed, er-ge still kept coming at him for sing-along.

Shen Yuan still remembers his brother playing at his bedside, through the haze of medication. Sometimes he wouldn’t actually play, he would string notes together in a discordant harmony, but he was making noise, he was indicating he was right there and he wasn’t leaving unless you were strong enough to throw him out of the window.

When Shen Yuan starts his music lessons in his second life, he doesn’t even try to play – his freshly manicured hands make the moon guitar shriek and yowl, it’s more a lute when he thinks about it, but he can hear er-ge roaring with laughter, what the fuck are you trying to do, did my didi turn into some ill-tempered tomcat on the prowl for a fight or a quick fuck on the rooftops ?

His tutor titters with indignance and disgust, threatening to whack his hands with a bamboo switch if he refuses to make progress. How illogical ! If Shen Yuan gets his fingers bruised and cut, how is his playing supposed to improve ?

Still, he magnanimously takes pity on the poor rabbit whose fluffy ears quiver and twitch in dismay every time he fumbles a note. That’s not very funny to be born with such sensitive audition, and he winces as he remembers his own sensitive eyes.

So he’s putting efforts from his own free will, and not because he genuinely fears getting whacked on the hands, no sir-ee. Even if Wang Wang looked pissed enough to relish it – and that was fucking terrifying, and Shen Yuan is cursing Tu’er Ye with all his might for telling his many, many offspring that it’s okay for a fluffy, cute little bunny to become the stuff of nightmares.

One day, he will see the steward tearing and begging his pardon for inflicting his long-suffering Young Master such lasting trauma. One day.

In the meantime, he’s stuck trying to adapt Britney Spears and ABBA on a moon guitar. Yes, he really should try to master more classic tunes instead of polluting a perfectly good xianxia dimension with his pop bullshit, but Wang Wang and Hong’er looked intrigued by his attempts to play Bohemian Rhapsody without translating the lyrics (this is utter nonsense even when you’re speaking English, if he attempts to explain it, he’s pretty sure his and his audience’s brain will implode and he will be labeled crazy) and he’s so spoiled, how is he supposed not indulge himself ?

And this is how Stairway to Heaven became his mother’s favorite instrumental song. It’s weirdly appropriate, and Shen Yuan feels his ears burn with guilt when she kisses his forehead and calls him such an accomplished compositor, maybe she will ask him to serve as the musical background for her dance, the next time she will be summoned in front of the Highest Emperor ?

Shen Yuan’s answer to this modest suggestion is to get noisily and horrendously sick. Fortunately, he abstains from splattering his moon guitar or the musical scores with greenish puke, but it nonetheless gets his point across.

Besides the moon guitar (too heavy with memories) and the guqin (because he’s an aspiring young gentleman now), he’s learning the xiao. Wang Wang claims its sound resembles the sweetness of the phoenix’s call, but Shen Yuan manages to make the instrument shriek like a spooked chicken instead when he first begins to use it.

Why did he pick a flute, of all things ? Maybe, it was the sheer lack of emotional connection with it – er-ge enjoyed his strings, and da-ge dabbled in percussion with the set of drums he was gifted on his sixteenth birthday, but neither touched a woodwind.

The xiao is Shen Yuan’s and his alone. Still, it’s a bitch to try and master – he quickly grows breathless and his cheeks and lungs burn from exhaustion, he must be so red and puffy in the face, just like these roly-poly toys that claim to symbolize success and the ability to overcome adversity.

Okay, Shen Yuan can accept things are not always what they seem, and all this crap about not judging something or someone on the appearance and the necessity to seek further meaning, but is he allowed to cry uncle ? Sometimes a cigar is nothing but a cigar, and trying to give meaning to a heap of shit won’t change the fact that it is crap, and will send you to the nearest bathroom for urgent cleaning if you put your hands in it.

Also, the xiao is fantastic for when he’s in a mood – even Hong’er is afraid of intervening when Shen Yuan is busy blowing into the flute and glaring at the wall, so he’s left to peacefully practice, alone with a plate of pastries.

The bunnies tend to avoid him every time he whips the xiao out. He doesn’t know why they refuse to discriminate against the moon guitar or the guqin but have a problem with his flute. When he innocently asks a-Ying about it, she confesses that strings cannot emit a genuinely strident sound, unlike woodwind.

That’s rather mean, how little they trust in his ability to play. Mean yet fair, since Shen Yuan isn’t gifted with absolute pitch and as a consequence will play a whole piece in the wrong key entirely, without batting an eyelash.

He will learn, of course. That’s not like he can get worse.

Chapter Text

The Jade Mountain’s gardens were a carefully tended perfection, a landscape including a series of terraces connected by galleries and gravel paths, not entirely wild yet not wholly tamed. It depended on the walker’s location.

Xiwangmu enjoyed to sit in her small white-walled and blue-roofed lakeside pavilion when she wanted to write letters and read. There, she was disturbed by nothing but the soft croaking of frogs perching on water lilies to prey on dragonflies and the soft pitter-patter of her Qingniao birds’ feet on the porcelain tiled floor every time they checked on her.

One of them precisely came and brought her a letter. The Divine Mother – or was it Nanny, would she be called to be a teacher ? It was important to use the right title according the circumstances – smiled as she identified the clumsy handwriting.

This silly boy needed to improve his calligraphy. Yet she wouldn’t deny his lack of finesse and occasional stains were rather endearing – it gave his letters some personality, a lovely flaw.

Xiwangmu was a goddess – the highest goddess. Her existence demanded perfection, she relished in perfection, but you would never get bored with imperfection. Annoyed, yes. Nonplussed and confused, oh yes. Bored ? Not even in a blue moon.

« Put this here, darling » she commanded in a airy voice, as she petted the golden doe resting its cute little head on her lap – so long it wouldn’t try to take a bit of her silken sleeve, she wouldn’t snap its lovely long neck.

The blue-green crow bobbed its head, before letting the small bamboo scroll firmly held shut by a white ribbon fall on the low table with a loud clink . The plate filled with fruits briefly quivered.

Xiwangmu plucked a red date from the date and offered it to her bird attendant that immediately consumed the fruit. It was important to tip, after all.

She hummed a folksong of a fairly generic kind in which a rather lonely soldier tried to persuade a maiden into committing some very shameless activities indeed, while her small hands removed the ribbon and unfurled the bamboo scroll. The doe grunted, upset from losing the fingers scratching it behind its velvety ears.

« My oh my, it seems my cute little student took my advice at heart. This has not been written by a parrot fed with etiquette books, just look ! »

The doe refused to look ; it closed its eyes with a heavy sigh. Xiwangmu pouted.

« One day, this venerable one will teach you how to read » she threatened. « Then, you won’t be able to hide behind your ignorance anymore. »

Outside the pavilion, a pheasant shrieked as its stumbled and almost fell into the lake, disturbing a flurry of silvery fishes that fled across the water to hide under the lotus blossoms. Sunlight glinted through the weeping willow’s leaves, turning them almost translucent.

Xiwangmu picked a plump loquat in her fruit bowl and crunched it between her fangs as she started to read her letter, the pit mercilessly crushed with the sweet flesh.

Dear little Yuan’er was writing her of his progress in the archery field, since she had expressed her lack of interest for his mastery of rites. So skilled he was nowaday, he wasn’t endangering his feet or the servants anymore.

She almost laughed. Such a cheeky little shit, she would have to learn who was responsible for fumbling the boy’s reincarnation and grant them a boon. Xiwangmu certainly wouldn’t be bored in the future, not if she cultivated Shen Yuan’s defiance and sassiness.

Not a traditionally heroic character, this youngster – these became rarefied, lately, to the point it genuinely was a surprise when she stumbled upon a pure white lotus emerging from the muddy humanity. No, dear little Yuan’er was the kind of smartass that couldn’t help having an opinion about everything and everyone, and woe to you if he ever slotted you in the dumbass category.

If his ability to deliver a volley of verbal arrows was sufficiently honed, he might rival the man who sired him in this current existence. He likely would become a peerless archer in the material plan too ; a god’s domain tended to influence their offspring, after all, and in spite of Houyi’s very persistent humanity, the Sun Slayer nonetheless achieved such fame in his lifespan and beyond his death it definitely would raise him above a mere mortal.

Such was the power of faith, when enough people strongly believe – reality itself was rewritten in accordance with their belief. Even in the flatly physical, hopelessly mundane and magicless dimensions such as the one dear little Yuan’er lived before his rebirth ; when everyone insists a lie is a truth, it was impossible to entirely dispell it.

And that was the truth behind the gods’ unacknowledged wariness towards humankind and other mortal creatures. Who would have thought such lowly, vulnerable amoebas would wield such a tremendous weapon ? Who ever believed it would be a good idea to entrust this weapon to the residents of the Mortal Realm ?

Xiwangmu hadn’t been this one, even if she could understand the appeal. She was whimsical and reckless, but she wasn’t actively suicidal – any behaviour blatantly disregarding one’s own security and well-being releved from self-harm and self-destructive passion, she wouldn’t budge on this subject.

Of course, for some beings so old they treated aeons as they would seconds, they likely wouldn’t see it this way. The older you got, the stranger you grew – Xiwangmu was deeply aware that she was a different beast from when she was a new Immortal. Everything would evolve in good time.

A splashing sound upset her meditation – the doe finally decided to abandon her, going for a swim in the cool bluish waters to gain the other shore, its small head a golden triangle on the lake’s wrinkled and frothy surface.

Xiwangmu sighed. Now, how would she answer to this cheeky little brat ? Would she need to summon Xuan’er for her vitriolic snark ? No, it would be too much to set one of her most warlike students against an infant – yes, she was taking both his lives in account, Shen Yuan was less than a toddler in the eyes of the Upper Realm.

Might he enjoy his youth, it would last him a very long time, even in a Jeremy Bearimy timeline with a circular perception of life. How lucky was Yuan’er, to be so small and cute instead of hunched and annoying.

Xiwangmu was a mother, but she would be the first to concede children often were awful little brats. The thing was, brattiness could be endearing under some conditions.

Mainly when said brattiness was directed against other people.

Chapter Text

After finally getting back home, Shen Yuan truly hoped he and his mother wouldn’t have to worry about another summon at the Imperial Palace for a very, very long time.

Really, he should have remembered the Divine Mother’s ramblings about time being non-linear for gods, and he also should have remembered travelling and packing for a sojourn under someone else’s roof follows very different rules when you now belong to a noble bloodline – but does something like bloodlines apply still to the Upper Realm, populated with Immortals having left the urge to reproduce behind as the place is ?

If he had remembered, he would have avoided looking stupid in front of Wang Wang as his less favorite tutor informs him that he does need to worry about the Highest Emperor summoning his mother back in front of his throne, potentially as soon as tomorrow.

« You told there would be no more visiting the Imperial Palace unless I have learned how to be a perfect gentleman ! » Shen Yuan wails with all his might, briefly considering throwing himself on the ground and sobbing but dismissing it as far too dramatic, yes he’s a spoiled young master but he’s not a spoiled young mistress even if he’s afflicted with far too pretty a face according his nanny’s cooing.

Wang Wang’s long ears twitch – alright, it was mean from Shen Yuan to yell when he perfectly knows how much the rabbits are sensitive to loudness, but come on ! Such distressing news, how is he supposed to contain his hopelessness and annoyance ?

« Considering time is fluid in the Upper Realm, it may very well be that the Young Master will have gained poise and knowledge enough to be considered an accomplished gentleman tomorrow, insofar as the Upper Realm calls tomorrow a moment in the future and is not limiting itself to the mortal definition of the day after . »

That’s a good argument and Shen Yuan hates it, mainly because he can feel a headache forming behind his left eye – he hates when it happens, always the impression that someone is gleefully stabbing his eye-socket with a white-hot poker. Fuck both his lives, why does time need to be so complicated ?

« Truly an interesting phenomena » Xiao Lan muses, and his nose adorably scrunches to indicate he’s about to fall into a scholarly fugue. « Did Young Master know, a summon from the Highest Emperor will be delivered precisely when it is needed ? And guests called at court by this summoning will come in front of His Majesty neither too late nor too early, but right when His Majesty wishes it. »

That… uh. Shen Yuan cannot help the shiver running down his back, because the mere hint of a deity controlling time is never a good thing. Next thing you know, a whole country has been reduced to ashes and dust from being stuck in a bubble of accelerated aging.

Wang Wang doesn’t seem enthusiastic about the matter either, as he hisses to his brother – older or younger ? Shen Yuan is unable to remember the precise birth order for Wei Wei and Tu’er Ye’s numerous offspring, and sometimes he thinks the parents too have forgotten.

« The Highest Emperor does whatever the Highest Emperor wills » the yellowish rabbit snaps, « and this is not your place to question how or why. »

Xiao Lan’s ears pitifully drop on either side of his head as he bows in apology. So pitiful, ah ! Shen Yuan feels his heart breaking, and his arms are aching to hold the sad bunny – but Wang Wang wouldn’t be happy about the Young Master undermining his authority as a disciplinarian, so poor Xiao Lan will have to endure the scolding. Forgive this unworthy Young Master, you wretchedly devoted servant !

« Returning to the main point » Wang Wang says as he turns his back on his groveling sibling, « this is because time is fluid that the Fragrant Palace needs to be constantly prepared for the Highest Emperor sending a messenger to us. Isn’t it far better to have what you need at hand if an emergency arises, than to panic because one has neglected to take care and has to face the danger without good tools ? »

Shen Yuan begrudgingly remembers the first-aid kits his first mother insisted to keep in the house, what if someone suddenly had an asthma attack or an aneurysm ? Not under my roof, young man, you won’t !

He also understands it means a constant low-level stress pervading the Fragrant Palace, as everyone is staying alert for His Majesty indulging a whim. And this is why he never thought he would enjoy living in a palace drama – his heart is sickly and liable to fail him if he suffers too big a shock, he doesn’t need such a high-pressure environment if he wants to see thirty years !

Ultimately, Shen Yuan did die long before reaching his thirtieth birthday, and his godly constitution means he won’t be felled by something as vulgar as a heart condition. He nonetheless hates stress, as anyone sane does – and no, adrenaline junkies aren’t sane, he’s not taking these words back, da-ge, going to climb mountains is pants-shittingly scary.

Frankly, this might be one of the rare moments he genuinely prayed for a divine entity to be real – nothing like the prospect of falling from a towering height to make you willing and able to believe in anything that will help you out of this mess.

Of course, he wasn’t expecting for his answer to be answered this way – but in stories where gods are involved, things randomly happen as one would wish they do. And the Divine Mother very much insists that gods are bound to follow narrative convention.

Hum, maybe the Highest Emperor isn’t actually manipulating time when he summons a lower-ranked deity at court, but is using the convention that people will always be in time for meeting the ruler ? Because that would make a good amount of sense…

A shame he won’t be able to discuss the hypothesis with Xiao Lan, because the fluffy librarian is unable to retain the knowledge. It’s no flaw of his own – a-Ying cannot remember at all the topics regarding divinity Shen Yuan learned from the Queen Mother of the West, as a bunny is first and foremost a beast , barren from higher levels of thought.

Xiao Lan would need to cultivate a human form for him to understand and keep such a nugget of information in his memory, and he’s not liable to do so. The rabbits living in the Fragrant Palace are quite happy with their day-to-day existence, after all.

And cultivation progresses when one is rebelling against their current circumstances, in most cases.

Chapter Text

What is cultivation ?

Er-ge once decided to give a try to German philosophy, half because he was genuinely curious about the European mindset and half because he wanted to annoy their father. Shen Yuan never touched his brother’s books except for Thus Spoke Zarathustra, as it could be read as a novel – and it was quite a gorgeous disaster in its poetic style and its grim presentation of human nature and how to sublime it.

Anyway, er-ge had been rather thoughtful when he stumbled on the bildung concept : self-transformation through a slow process of harmonization of one’s heart and mind, the unification of selfhood and identity as defined by oneself and the broader society. He even wrote an essay on the superficial similarities between the bildung school of thought and the internal alchemy as vaunted by many aspirants to Daoist immortality.

Internal alchemy is all about prolonging life and creating an immortal spiritual body that would survive after death through various esoteric doctrines, physical, mental and spiritual practices – a process of self-transformation aiming to reforge the individual into something better, Shen Yuan can see why er-ge wrote his paper. Yet his brother missed an essential component from cultivation in his analysis.

Cultivation at its core is a practice that goes against the Universe itself.

Every living being must die one day, or valar morghulis as G. R. R. Martin expressed it with such elegant simplicity. All men must die. Such is the way of the world, to let new generations to be born and grow.

Cultivation aims to preserve life. Cultivation intends to refine and improve an imperfect being. Cultivation allows beasts and mortals to rise above their lowly station and reach towards godhood.

Cultivation is disorderly and upsetting to the Upper Realm because it’s a weapon wielded by the lower realms of existence. Every time a new Immortal breaks through their Heavenly Tribulations and walks on the silver bridge, the Heavens shiver and wonder how this one is going to disturb the peace.

How ironic, for all these deities to forget they once were the source of such malaise. But is that so surprising ? A lotus blossom hates to remember its seed rooted itself in the mud.

Shen Yuan suspects that his mother’s affectionate nickname of little crimson fish , the one she bestows on Hong’er, is reflective of a former reality. He has noticed the way Heavenly Officials in the Highest Emperor’s palace were looking at the pale giant of a bodyguard – tense and wary and wondering.

He knows how much Hong’er enjoys water and teasing the goldfishes in the Fragrant Palace’s carefully tended ponds.

This is… this is rather cool, actually. How could it not be ? Hong’er has defied the expectations Fate had traced for him, and he became something else entirely – he utterly rewrote his entire being.

Shen Yuan has to admire such a journey, since he never was able to defy his own fate in his first life – becoming more than the lazy, good-for-nothing third son that would never achieve worth on his own because his weak body would kill him far too soon. A dog will always howl at the Moon because it cannot help coveting her brilliance even if it will never touch her.

This is a reason why he found Proud Immortal Demon Way appealing, before Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky decided to betray their own artistic integrity and duty of producing a true novel with their innate gift for writing. No matter the distressing and unending amount of crap shoveled on his head, Luo Binghe just would keep getting up. He just would keep fighting back against the world itself.

Of course, the will to reinvent oneself can actually a negative, especially when it leads a naive, perfectly lovable white lotus sheep to turn into the worst kind of misogynistic pig that cannot think with anything but the sword in his hand and the one between his legs. Shen Yuan hopes that the cursed Underworld clerk responsible for his transmigration will fumble Airplane’s next life even worse than his case for such a travesty.

Anyway, he’s curious about the possibility of cultivating in the Upper Realm. Yes, he doesn’t need to do it, since he was born an Immortal and is already in possession of a perfectly serviceable body. But he knows an important fundamental from the xianxia genre : there are people beyond people, and Heavens beyond Heavens.

There is always someone better. Someone that went further.

So yes, Shen Yuan is pretty sure that he’s not the first Upper Realm resident who ever considered the matter. It would be very unlikely if he was.

He’s alright with this. Shen Yuan is nothing special – he hasn’t been blessed with the temperament of a great pioneer or inventor or seeker of knowledge, merely with a lazy and complacent disposition. Sometimes he thinks this is the greatest blessing he could ever ask for, the inner inertia allowing to accept his lack of control over his life and fate.

When he discreetly brings up the topic to Hong’er, his personal Hagrid frowns – more bafflement than displeasure, but is Hong’er even able to feel genuine annoyance ? Shen Yuan never has seen him behaving in less than his usual warmth and serenity.

« This lowly one doesn’t see how it would be a desired outcome. Cultivation in the Upper Realm… how to explain ? This is not about improving oneself, not anymore. This is about… harmonizing oneself with the world around ? »

The bodyguard stumbles over his words, as he gently corrects Shen Yuan’s grip over his bow.

« Everything has a voice » Hong’er slowly articulates. « The stones. The grass. A mere goldfish in his pond. Everything is… speaking, or singing ? Singing, yet no one can hear. »

« This sounds lonely » Shen Yuan comments, as he shoots his arrow – it misses the splash of gold paint on the target’s black wood from barely an inch.

« Yes, it is. If one wishes to ascend further on the path to godhood, one would need to listen the sounds of the world, and it would be… well, it would be overwhelming in the best case. »

Shen Yuan pouts as he considers this tidbit of information – and how it was said. One listening the sounds of the world.

So far, he remembers seeing nothing but folk and Daoist gods among the Heavenly Officials, but of course he would : this is the Celestial Bureaucracy.

But if the Celestial Bureaucracy is real, there is no reason for other religions to be wrong about their patrons existing. And there is one deity whose name basically describes what Hong’er mused that cultivation could be for an Immortal.

She is Avalokitasvara to India and she is Kanzeon to Japan and she is Guanyin to China, but no matter her name and face, she is the goddess of mercy, for she hears all the world’s lamentations.

Chapter Text

After getting the reveal that maybe, the Celestial Bureaucracy wasn’t the only pantheon in existence, Shen Yuan picks up his brush and composes a very polite letter to the Divine Mother, inquiring about their potential divine neighbours in the Heavens. If diplomatic relationships between different countries’ gods are expected, he really wants to be forewarned.

This Shen Yuan isn’t interested in taking a lightning bolt to the face for saying the wrong thing to the wrong deity ! And he’s not interested in getting seduced by a golden rain or a white bull or even an ant – seriously, Zeus from the Greek mythology is a complete and utter nutso and he will jump on anyone if he’s in the mood to fuck, just look at poor Ganymede.

So yes, he actually needs to know about other pantheons so he can claim sickness when the Highest Emperor will find himself hosting a foreign delegation – is that a thing in the Upper Realm ? It might be, but it would depend on gods being alright with letting strangers waltz on their turf, and that is never an easy pill to swallow.

When Xiao Yi comes back bearing the Queen Mother of the West’s answer, he also carries a small book with him. It looks like something translated from Arabic, with the Chinese characters written beneath the twisty dotted calligraphy : Wahdat al-maqsud or the Intention of Unity .

Well, Nanny certainly doesn’t lose her sense of humour with time : Shen Yuan is asking her about foreign theology and she gifts him a book of Sufi metaphysics.

If he’s lucky, he will have an explanation to said gift in her letter, so he asks some pastries and tea to a-Yan and a-Li – he will have to fortify himself for the mental toll it’s going to take from him – and sits in the library, on the most comfy seat because he deserves it.

Nanny’s missive to him confirms the existence of foreign gods, and Shen Yuan briefly pauses in order to lament the fate of the poor guys stuck praying in Greece and Mexico – on the freaky meter, the Aztec pantheon just won’t stop asking for human sacrifices and they like them tortured and weeping, it’s seriously the most shitty religion ever and that’s no wonder that the Conquistadors flipped out and evangelized the fuck out of the natives, they probably believed the cultural destruction was the lesser evil.

Since it’s the Divine Mother writing, she then comments on a pantheon’s structure. There is the head honcho, the jock (war god), the shipper (love goddess), the one people tend to forget in spite of their extremely useful specialization (food and hearth god), the drifter that will never be at home (traveler’s god), the conjugal counselor (marriage goddess) and many, many others. Some deities will be truly weird regarding their influence, who seriously needs a god for bees, but the important roles are going to be filled.

Nanny fully admits the major figures in a pantheon tend to be stereotypes – gods are figures of stories and legends, and stories are built on stereotypes. Also, gods are meant to reflect their worshippers : someone praying to a deity is actually looking in a mirror, seeking for the qualities they would consider fitting in the deity they’re adressing for such and such problem.

This… Shen Yuan swallows three buns stuffed with lotus seeds paste to make the dark cloud threatening to unfurl in his heart flee. He really hates getting philosophical, because he will always come to the conclusion that people are locked up in an endless loop of talking to themselves, because no matter how much they are trying, it’s impossible to have a genuine rapport with someone else beyong themselves.

He thinks er-ge called this solipsism, the denial of the existence of other minds. Truly a terrifying concept, so er-ge immediately liked it until he explained the whole thing to meimei and she went depressed for a full month because her own brother apparently believed she wasn’t real.

Papa and Mama Shen had been quite pissed off when they learned why their baby girl was in such a state. Er-ge was still apologizing for his blunder when Shen Yuan was relocated, and he likely will keep begging for meimei’s forgiveness on his deathbed.

Anyway, gods are a mirror of mankind. Yet at the same time, they mirror another reality – the divine principle that permeates the whole Universe, and by the way this is what the Unity of Existence is supposed to be. Much as the earth borrows light from the sun, everything borrows existence from the divine principle – and it means all things are divine yet not divine, as Being is supposed to be infinite and absolute and every existent thing is distinct, defined and limited.

Nanny apologizes for not sending some writings from a Greek dude named Plotinus, who apparently believed that there is a supreme, totally transcendent One beyond all attributes including being and non-being – a belief that helped to refine the Sufi metaphysics, but a deer managed to enter her personal library and caused a bit of a mess. Shen Yuan wonders how bad it actually was, you can never tell with the Queen Mother of the West, so it could be that the deer has eaten several scrolls, pooped on her carpets or merely knocked over a book shelf or two.

So it’s rather difficult to have a complete census of gods, because it depends on their degree of Existence , how much they are a reflection of mankind and how close they are with the source of the world. On these words, Nanny hopes that her cute little student is doing well in his studies, and he absolutely can send her another letter if he needs her help with something metaphysical or philosophical.

After finishing his reading, Shen Yuan carefully closes the letter and decides to have a very quiet freak out – he’s in the library and Xiao Lan won’t grant him a pass for making noise, even if he’s busy having an existential crisis.

Seriously, that’s so godamn weird : he never truly felt alive or even real in his former live, and now he’s supposed to be more significant on the matter of existence than almost everyone currently living in the Mortal Realm ? Merely because of an accident of birth, due to a bureaucratic misfile ? You can bet your fucking ass he earned the right to lose his shit !

Xiao Lan obediently lets his Young Master cuddle him a long, long time, his whiskers quivering in ecstasy as he’s petted on the ears and the back. Sometimes, Shen Yuan really envies his bunny servants.

Xiao Lan can read, but he’s far from having the understanding necessary to suffer the same as Shen Yuan. Like they say, ignorance is bliss.

Chapter Text

Now that he’s living in a world acknowledging several pantheons, Shen Yuan as the itty-bitty godling that he is has no longer to worry about attending college or joining his brothers in the family business – no, he just has to wonder what kind of specialization he will have to pick for his future worshippers.

Tu’er Ye just won’t stop insisting on the importance of the task for his future, and Shen Yuan cannot help but agree – being known as the god of good-for-nothing layabouts isn’t exactly the kind of thing you proudly boast over tea and cookies. Sure, there is a market and customers for such a deity, but this is like selling laxatives, everyone is more or less ashamed of doing it.

It leaves Shen Yuan with a huge problem, because he really cannot see himself engaged in something constructive that wouldn’t drive his a-Niang to vehemently deny she ever bore him. No matter how much she loves him, even the Buddha will lose his temper after being slapped thrice ! He will not tempt fate !

Frankly, his only talent is picking trash novels apart and ranting about their flaws in excruciating details on Weibo. Is there a position for a literature god that will mercilessly explain aspiring authors how shitty their so-called genius writing actually is ? Because Shen Yuan might be happy this way, but he already can see mobs burning him in effigy and that is just… yeowch.

Shen Yuan likes to believe he’s pretty indifferent to people disliking him, no matter the reason – for being a second-gen rich young master, for liking monsters and fantasy stories, for having it easy just because he’s born sickly and as such everyone feels bad for poor little him who is going to die soon and it cannot be quick enough – but he’s not enough of a M to seek hatred from the masses. Far too demoralizing.

Wang Wang and Xiao Lan try to help by explaining him just how fucking many titles and positions are available in the Imperial Palace – everyone wants to enter the service of the Highest Emperor, it carries the promise of tremendous fame and riches in spite of Immortals supposedly being above greed and want for acknowledgement, nice to know propaganda managed to pervade the Upper Realm too – but going freelance also is a potential path open to the Young Master if he wishes so.

« Is a-Niang an independant goddess ? » Shen Yuan wonders, since Chang’e is living pretty well away from the other Heavenly Officials, only for Wang Wang to shake its head.

« Your esteemed mother is one of the most prestigious names figuring on the registry of Heavenly Officials » the yellowish rabbit declares, « but her duties are not so taxing that it would need for her to appear in front of the Highest Emperor more often than when it’s time for the harvest rites. Then, milady dancing is absolutely critical to ensure balance and prosperity in the Three Worlds. »

Shen Yuan remembers a bit of Greek myth, and a goddess linked to harvest and the seasons sounds like Demeter or Persephone, the details are escaping him. But there was something about an abduction, and the world almost dying from starvation until the goddess was sent back home. Of course, a Moon goddess likely has no power to ensure the crops will rot or fail to sprout, but he still doesn’t want to imagine the results if the Moon was to disappear from the sky.

Alright, werewolves would become a problem of the past, but eliminating Jacob still doesn’t prevent Bella from pining after Edward. Erk, why is he remembering Twilight ? When it comes to romanticizing abuse and turning a woman into a weepy, utterly flat character that only serves as a way to make the male lead feel good for protecting her from her own mistakes, it’s almost as bad as Proud Immortal Demon Way ! At least, he thinks it’s almost as bad…

Unfortunately – or maybe fortunately, hard to say – he’s currently unable to read the books again in order to establish a comparison. Even if he discreetly visits Earth, he’s pretty sure that it’s currently the Antiquity or the Dark Ages, and nothing is a guarantee that Stephenie Meyer and Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky are going to be born in this dimension, or decide to lower the IQ of mankind by producing the crappiest literature ever.

Maybe Shen Yuan’s fate is to persuade them to become accountants or clerks or some other job boring to tears instead ? But what about the butterfly effect – he doesn’t want to find himself responsible for an AI revolt in the far future of the solar system because he has unduly influenced the life of a dumbass writer in the 21th century ! This kind of jaunt always ripples in the most unexpected way !

Maybe he should ask for a fortune-teller to help him with his career path. The rise of science in the third millenium did absolutely nothing to strangle the Chinese people’s faith in their horoscopes, Shen Yuan’s own father would listen to an architect explaining him such-and-such place wasn’t auspicious enough to build a factory, the feng shui wouldn’t allow it.

People are a superstitious lot, and this was in Shen Yuan’s former world in which science and reason had triumphed. In a land of magic and gods, he would bet it is so much worse.

Really, he’s intrigued by the possibility of learning what the future is holding in reserve for him, now that his great big surprise isn’t death anymore. He wonders how godhood would mesh with fortune-telling – would it be like receiving a book summary with all the tropes the protagonist needs to fulfill, since the Divine Mother so heavily insists upon Immortality being extremely meta as a state of being ?

On the other hand, he is unsure about wanting to know – the whole endeavour just reeks of spoilers, a heaping pile of it. And what if he causes the bad end by seeking to avoid it, everyone knows a story like that !

Ah, decisions, decisions. The afterlife is supposed to be resting, for fuck’s sake ! Well, until you get so bored you ask Meng Po a cup of her soup and jump on the wheel of reincarnation, that is. Shen Yuan personally enjoys boredom, so long he gets books to read, and he would be happy as a clam if only this goddamn Underworld clerk hadn’t flubbed their job.

Well, he wouldn’t be eating delicious lotus pastries and cuddling a bunch of rabbits that literally beg him for pets, so he supposes it’s not that bad, after all.

Chapter Text

Xiao Bing didn’t know what he liked the most about the Mid-Autumn Festival, if it was the pretty paper lanterns swaying from the roofs or the young women throwing handkerchiefs to the crowd for a young man to bring them back in exchange of a kiss or the mooncakes stuffed with meat and lotus seed paste and egg yolk sold for a copper coin.

Dragons and lions in brightly colored paper and cotton danced in the streets as passerbys applauded and cheered, incense smoke wafting towards the sky and the Moon and carrying prayers for love and health in its fragrant eddies.

Xiao Bing loved the Mid-Autumn Festival, for people were so busy eating and drinking and dancing and enjoying themselves that they forgot to be mean for a few days, and both he and his mama would get to enjoy themselves too.

« Mama, mama, tell me the story ! About the hero and the goddess ! »

« I have already told you ! » she laughed and her dark eyes were illuminated by the lanterns in red and yellow and green, it looked like the nighttime sky had fled inside her head. « Last year and the year before, don’t you remember ? »

Xiao Bing sniffed and let his own eyes grow wet and shiny, mimicking the river he came from.

« Please, mama ? Just that once ? »

She fondly smiled and she kissed his forehead as she sat down on the temple’s stairs, and he immediately cuddled her side, the Moon shining bright and clear far above their heads.

« Alright, you awful boy. But this is the last year ! »

Xiao Bing giggled with his mouth filled with sticky crumbs of pastry and dyed red by pomegranate juice, he knew his mama would tell the story again at the Festival next year because she loved him to the Moon and back.

« Once upon a time » she started as she combed his messy curls with her fingers ruined by soap and boiling water, « there was a great hero named Houyi, and he was excellent at archery but his greatest love was his wife, the beautiful Chang’e. One day, the ten suns rose together in the sky and caused everything on Earth to scorch and burn, so Houyi shot nine of them and left only one to provide light. It was such a great feat, the Jade Emperor sent him the elixir of immortality as a reward... »

Xiao Bing sighed as he pictured a great and fearsome man in red armour, a scowling helmet hiding his noble face, turning his great bow against the suns themselves in order to protect so many people he would never be able to meet all of them. It was too awe-inspiring, and he could understand why the Jade Emperor himself had admired Houyi for his bravery and his compassion.

« However, Houyi didn’t want to become an immortal because it would mean his beloved wife Chang’e would grow old and die, so he entrusted her with the elixir instead, telling her what it would do if ingested » his mama continued. « Unfortunately, Houyi’s apprentice Peng Meng was right behind the door when Houyi did this, and he waited for his master to go on a hunt in order to break into the house and force Chang’e to give him the elixir. »

« But she refused » Xiao Bing added, and his mama raised her graying eyebrow.

« Are you the storyteller now ? »

« Sorry ! » he immediately wailed, but not too strong. « I am sorry, mama, please don’t stop ! »

« Alright, you little sheep. And that’s right, Chang’e wouldn’t give the precious elixir to such an awful, greedy man. She swallowed it instead, and she flew into the sky until she landed on the moon because she loved her husband so much and wanted to keep living as near to him as she could. »

Xiao Bing wondered if Chang’e looked like the pretty aunties and sisters in the brothels, with their painted faces and their silken robes and their easy smiles. Had she cried a lot when she found herself all alone on the Moon, forever kept apart from her husband by her brand-new immortality ?

« Then Houyi went home, and he was so saddened after learning what happened » his mama kept going, « he displayed the fruits and cakes his wife enjoyed so much eating in the yard and he made sacrifices to her, this way she would know of his love for her and how he would keep to love none but her. People soon learned of these activities, and since they felt much sympathy towards Chang’e and much gratitude towards Houyi, they started to give their own sacrifices and this is how the Mid-Autumn Festival was born. »

Xiao Bing sniffed, and his mama patted his wet eyes with her fraying sleeve, the cloth used to such a point it became wonderfully soft.

« There, there. Why do you like this story so much ? You just won’t stop crying when you hear it, you are going to turn into a river. »

« But this is sad » he spluttered, « this is sad, because they can’t be together again, and they loved each other so much, mama, and that’s not fair ! »

« I know, my little sheep » his mama cooed as she hugged him, and she smelled like grapefruit and freshly washed laundry, « but you know what ? Separation wasn’t enough for them to stop loving each other. Chang’e didn’t need to live with Houyi to know how much he cared for her, and Houyi didn’t need to have Chang’e besides him to know she would carry the memory of him into eternity. They knew it by the strength of their hearts. »

Xiao Bing snotted a bit upon her shoulder, and a band of laughing young men climbed the stairs up in order to light incense as they loudly talked about one of them getting lucky with a maiden who smiled at him, several of them carrying small lanterns to release in the sky.

Xiao Bing and his mama always shared a lantern when it was time for the Festival to end, a very cheap one with a barely scrawled drawing in charcoal or watery ink, but it was enough to carry their wishes into the sky, near the Moon for Chang’e to hear.

He asked his mama what she wished for, last year, and she told him he was the greatest blessing she would have asked the Heavens so she was content to think very hard of every good memory they made together in the last year and this way, Chang’e would know she was happy and maybe she would enjoy listening the story.

Xiao Bing thought it was very nice for her mama to do so. About him, he would always do the same wish, since he first heard the tale of the hero and the goddess that couldn’t be together anymore.

This way she would know of his love for her and how he would keep loving none but her… Separation wasn’t enough for them to stop loving each other.

One day, Xiao Bing wanted to love someone that much.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan has noticed a strange phenomena, after a while practising his dance or archery or calligraphy. He gets so utterly focused on the task at hand, he just stops thinking and he loses time.

He first worries about getting sick in his new life in spite of his godly body – he did NOT reincarnate to be afflicted with yet another failing health, fuck karma or whatsoever that wants to force him to repeat the experience for a so-called enlightenment !

When he decides to alert Hong’er, his personal Hagrid first looks concerned then Shen Yuan details his affliction and the pale face immediately smoothes itself, just like a pond would swallow a flat stone used for skipping and refuse to hint at it afterwards.

« Young Master should know this is a good thing happening to him » the giant bodyguard claims, and Shen Yuan pouts to express his lack of faith in this affirmation. « Young Master is meditating. »

« Isn’t that supposed to be when a monk sits down in the lotus position and recites a mantra while the hallmaster is beating him on the head with a wooden stick ? » Shen Yuan objects.

« That’s a way to meditate, but that’s not the only one. There is many roads leading to the same destination, why wouldn’t multiple roads to achieve godhood and commune with the higher forces governing the world be possible ? The Queen Mother of the West is openly acknowledged as but one of many teachers, even if she’s the most famed and sought after. »

Now, Shen Yuan feels curious. Maybe meditation is less boring than depicted by popular culture – every time he tried to mimic his favorite heroes training to take the fight to the next big villain, he would wind up snoring because any meditation manual adviced to make oneself at ease and, well, Shen Yuan felt at ease in the dark and lying on his bed, so…

« Oh, is that linked to the duality of energy ? Yin and Yang ? »

Hong’er jumps the tiniest bit and eyeballs him with a rather surprised expression. Fuck, did he just say something far too advanced for his current physical age ? Alright, a godling’s growth is screwy and the bodyguard is aware of his precious Young Master’s status of former human adult, but still.

Then the pale giant chuckles, a spark of fondness merrily twinkling in his eyes

« How savant ! Yes, people will tend to meditate easier as they are physically exhausting themselves when they want to gather yang energy for their constitution, and yin energy will ask of them intellectual stimulation » he explains.

Shen Yuan briefly chews on the piece of knowledge, pondering the implications.

« Does that mean I have a yang constitution, then ? Since I reach higher clarity when you are showing me how to shoot a target or when a-Niang is giving me tips about dancing. »

Personally, he cannot help finding that a bit unexpected as he’s hopelessly lazy by nature and yang is the embodiment of vitality and physicality.

Hong’er frowns, and a frog jumps in a near pond with a small wet noise, disturbing a cloud of dragonflies that immediately fly to hide among the carefully tended reeds surrounding the water.

« Young Master is born on the Moon » he slowly explains, « and the Moon is overflowing with yin energy. As Young Master’s body naturally has been exposed to such energy for his whole life, he got used to retain it – indeed, this one believes there is no Immortal gifted with such a potent Yin disposition beyond your esteemed mother and the Queen Mother themselves. »

So the two women that could be considered the embodiment of the yin principle in a human-shaped package. That won’t make Shen Yuan confused regarding his gender expression, no siree.

« Then why am I doing so well with gathering yang energy ? » Shen Yuan insists, because he’s a stubborn little shit that got anal-retentive every time he stumbled upon a plot hole left yawning and unfilled by a lazy writer.

« Because you are a living, growing being and living beings tend to not do so well when they are subsisting from one energy type only » the bodyguard admitted. « Moreso, you are male – yang is linked with male essence. Then, the need for physical training – you are gathering the yang energy essential to your well-being and continued health. »

Oh. Well, it made sense in spite of seeming weird at first glance. Shen Yuan scrunches his nose – yes, the rabbits do that when they are contemplating future arrangements, of course there will be cross-contamination if you live long enough surrounded by a bunch of fluffy bunnies, at least he’s not trying to eat his own poop, he doesn’t care if it keeps his servants healthy because this is crap , ew.

« So I will have to keep doing the active meditation » he sums up.

Forgive him for not sounding enthused by the prospect – that’s good to finally run and twirl and jump up and down without coughing his lungs after a few seconds, but that doesn’t mean he has been cured from his inner laziness, and it’s tiring to maintain a sport routine.

He already knew he wouldn’t get to escape because it’s needed for him to become an accomplished gentleman or because he doesn’t want to break his mother’s heart by his rejection of her favourite hobby, yet it’s dismaying to be given another reason – and a perfectly sound one – preventing him to stop.

Hong’er is smiling at him. Have his teeth always been so pointy and white ?

« Isn’t that enjoyable, Young Master ? This lowly one knows how relaxing it can be when there is nothing but you and the blade in your hand. No need for deep thinking, you just keep focusing on the way your hand and your feet are moving, until you don’t need thinking anymore and become the move itself » the pale giant muses. « In this moment, then I remember... »

His voice softens.

« This one remembers how small and dumb he was, once upon a time. Then he met your esteemed mother, and she gave him something to strive forwards, and he became so focused on reaching this objective… »

Shen Yuan narrows his eyes.

« You became something else, didn’t you ? You became more than you were. »

« It should have been the most terrifying experience in my life » Hong’er sighs, « Yet I remember nothing but – utter clarity. A clouded sky, finally letting me see the light. »

He sounds awed and reverent, the way you would be when talking about a true believer getting a glimpse of Jesus as it’s rumored to happen sometimes. And why wouldn’t he ? He did stumble upon a goddess, and it completely upended life as he knew it.

Shen Yuan is unsure about his mother potentially being aware of her bodyguard’s full devotion to her, and he’s unsure about telling her. Maybe it’s stupid – she’s the Moon fairy, with hundreds of human worshippers, what is another one ?

But it’s Hong’er, and it feels so threateningly intimate that he wants to bury these words far, far in the depths of his mind.

Chapter Text

Following his discussion with Hong’er regarding meditation and how he was gathering yang energy without knowing it, Shen Yuan finds himself pondering over something his personal Hagrid said. About his yin constitution.

As the offspring of the Moon fairy, born and raised in her domain, of course he shares a greater affinity for the cold and passive principle, associated with negativity, shadows and nighttime – even if he’s rather sorry about the feminity and yielding connotations, he might like his meimei and his two mothers and the many female attendants in the Fragrant Palace but he’s very happy as a male, and he’s lazy but he likes to believe he’s not a coward that will show its belly in every argument.

Also… Hong’er has talked of Shen Yuan’s body retaining yin energy. What did he mean ? Is that like heavy metal poisoning ? Fuck, he doesn’t want to puke his guts out because he needs to follow a treatment in order to fight the bioaccumulation in his body ! He hoped he was done with all this bullshit !

Shen Yuan wants to cry, but he goes to see Xiao Lan instead. The rabbit carefully listens to his worries, then apparently chokes on his saliva and needs a moment to calm down.

« Young Master, be assured the accumulation of yin energy in your esteemed self is not dangerous to your health ! Indeed, it might be a benefit to you, actually. »

Shen Yuan frowns.

« How so ? »

The fluffy ears twitch as the bunny librarian is sitting on his rump, preparing himself for a lecture.

« In this world, many beings are born with a natural inclination towards yang » he claims, « especially in the Mortal Realm. Yang is associated with warmth and daylight and creativeness and focus and positive activity, all things highly prized by mortals for it allow them to thrive in a merciless plane. »

« I know that » Shen Yuan comments.

One of the most common themes in world mythologies is the theft of fire, after all. From the Greek Prometheus who defied Zeus to the Polynesian folk hero Maui tricking Mahuika the goddess of flames, fire was the game changer that enabled mankind to evolve far beyond their wildest dreams. And light, especially sunlight, is such an effective deterrent against the possible and imagined monsters lurking under the cover of darkness.

Of course mankind would naturally lean towards yang, since yang symbolized their best weapons to fight for survival.

Xiao Lan’s nose quivers.

« Mortals love yang, for it is light. However, it’s very hard to sleep when light is blazing all around you, and more than anything, living beings crave rest and peace. This is what yin grants them, the merciful darkness of sleep, the soft embrace of nighttime after a whole day spent exhausting oneself. »

The librarian then adopts a slightly mischievous tone.

« Also, no one ever went blind from gazing at the Moon, unlike what happens when a fool wants to have a staring contest with the Sun. »

Shen Yuan cannot prevent the smile tickling at his lips, and Xiao Lan obviously notices it, his expression becomes so painfully smug it should be a crime.

« Now, about Young Master’s constitution. Your body is constantly absorbing yin energy, more than enough for keeping you alive. What is not consumed by your daily activities is accumulated within yourself, until it reaches a saturation point... »

« Will I get poisoned ? » Shen Yuan wonders, because this is the big threat hanging over his head.

« Absolutely not ! No, your body will cease to absorb yin energy, and start to produce it. »

There, the librarian has just said something nonsensical.

« Isn’t it already the case ? »

« Young Master is thinking of truly infinitesimal quantities, enough to sustain your own mind and soul and body, and maybe nurture a beloved’s qi » the bunny counters. « I am talking about the difference between a droplet and the ocean, you will be a fount of yin energy – something much rarer than a yang energy spring, mind you, unless you are in the Underworld. »

« Oh » Shen Yuan sighs.

Alright, so he’s going to become… the xianxia equivalent of a nuclear reactor ? But with yin energy ? Fuck, that sounds like one of Proud Immortal Demon Way ’s awful papapa plots, but on the other hand, it would have made the harem utterly obsolete if Luo Binghe had stumbled upon a sister able to feed his cursed sword Xin Mo without immediately turning into a drooling mess and being fatally drained after two or three consecutive romps between the sheets. Talk about an upheaval among the readers !

And it could have been so interesting, too, Luo Binghe finally meeting a woman powerful enough to be his equal and stay such even after falling on his dick. Shen Yuan briefly mourns the novel that never was, this goddamn Airplane truly deserves to choke on a dick and die in a puddle of his own vomit.

As he internally curses the former bane of his existence, the current being this fucking Underworld clerk responsible for landing him here, Xiao Lan is still talking.

« A yang spring tends to cause hostile reactions when one finds them. It’s because yang is also harshness and aggressivity, so they are perceived as threatening, and living beings often loath what could cause harm. Either they will flee, or they will seek to destroy the reason for their unease – and since mortals have already all the yang energy they could wish for, they are not interested in having more, or they would fall sick and be driven mad from the imbalance. »

Shen Yuan frowns.

« But I won’t be yang, since I am yin. »

« Indeed, Young Master » the bunny confirms. « A yin spring causes the opposite reaction – living beings flock to them. They will feel how refreshing and unthreatening your being is, and they will love you for this. »

Love… Shen Yuan remembers a-Ying smiling and saying, Young Master is born to be loved by all . Does she know about the yin spring thing ? Was she trying to gently familiarize him with the idea that he’s going to be constantly harassed for his constitution ? Crap baskets, Shen Yuan is far from a social butterfly, he’s not da-ge or even er-ge ! He’s at ease on Weibo where he can hide himself behind a snark gremlin persona and constantly lambast dumbasses for their abject stupidity !

He’s so fucked, even his soul isn’t a virgin anymore. Xiao Lan squeals and wriggles a bit when his Young Master assaults him with a sudden hug.

Cuddle therapy, such a good treatment when you have so much fluffy bunnies around you.

Chapter Text

« Say, a-Niang... »

Mother and son are sitting in the garden, gazing at the blue and white marble suspended in the black void above their head. This is right before a dance lesson, and Chang’e has kicked her slippers off, her milky white feet resting on the bluish green grass. The toenails have been lacquered with dark garnet paint – rather a surprising choice for the Moon fairy who enjoys her silvers and blues and whites.

« Yes, moondrop ? » she asks as she’s busy combing Shen Yuan’s discoloured hair, tying a soft blue ribbon at the end of the braid and picking an hairpin to further pull the braid into a bun, ensuring he won’t be disturbed by hair finding their way inside his collar or in his eyes.

« What are you supposed to do ? As the Moon fairy » Shen Yuan hastily precises. « Everyone knows you will have to dance for the Highest Emperor when he wants for you to entertain the Heavenly Officials, but what are you supposed to do as a goddess ? »

In his former life, he never was very interested by folk religion and Buddhism. Oh, he’s aware of the big players, but he won’t be able to give more than these gods’ names and general associations – his parents had grown in an era focused on scientific, sociological and economic developments, and if it meant neglecting the spiritual side, so be it. Prayers wouldn’t feed your family or pay the rent, after all.

His meimei briefly wanted to become a Catholic nun and leave as a missionary in Africa, but he was pretty sure it had been nothing but a fancy, with the secondary aim to enrage er-ge – a fervent atheist who roared with laughter at the thought of a bearded old grandpa sitting cozy in the clouds and condemning human sinners only to forgive them when they started shedding crocodile tears.

Now that he has reincarnated as a resident of the Upper Realm, Shen Yuan concedes the popular depiction of the Abrahamic god is rather silly. If the dude is real, and he’s open to the possibility since other pantheons have been confirmed as existing by the Divine Mother herself, he’s likely much more complicated.

The woman sighs as she carelessly plays with her son’s hair ribbon.

« Being a cautionary tale from older generations » she bluntly declares. « Grannies love to warn young girls about the dangers of following your heart, or not thinking enough before committing to a course of action. »

She looks so serene when saying this, and Shen Yuan remembers the tears scalding her pale cheeks as she just wouldn’t stop calling herself foolish and dumb over a mistake made in wild panic, and he cannot help but feel angry for her – for the mistake she refuses to forgive, and people refuse to forget.

« That’s just mean » he pouts. « If I meet these grannies, I will yell at them. »

« You cannot stop people from thinking whatever they would like, Yuan’er. If you did, they wouldn’t be people anymore but puppets » she smiles, as if he was talking about painting his bedroom in bright yellow and dull green, or some other silliness from the same cloth.

« I don’t want for them to stop thinking it, I want for them to be ashamed of thinking it » Shen Yuan persists.

His mother’s smile brighten, and she kisses the top of his head.

« My little hero, going to rescue your poor, poor niang from those awful gossiping biddies. I won’t even need Hong’er, hm ? »

« Yes you do ! Who else is going to stop Divine Beasts from eating the rabbits ? » he reminds her, and she laughs.

« True, true. But enough about me being a cautionary tale… ah, yes. Do you know, girls want for me to make them beautiful ? »

Shen Yuan snorts. He can see why sisters would be desperate to be as beautiful as the woman who bore him in this new life – Chang’e is inhumanly lovely. He has heard of uncanny valley, the instinctive psychological rejection of something that was frighteningly close to mimic a human being, yet imperfect enough to not fully bridge the gap.

Chang’e is the inverse of uncanny valley – there is something subtle in the smoothness of her skin, the shine of her hair, and the daintiness of her features, something that whispers of otherworldliness yet entrances and tantalizes the viewer.

Hasn’t Xiao Lan explained a yin spring will have people flocking to it ? And Hong’er explicitely has mentioned the Moon fairy as having one of the most powerful yin constitutions among the Immortals. Is that what they mean ? Is Chang’e so mesmerizing to behold because of the yin energy her body is constantly producing ?

Shen Yuan snuggles his mother’s side. She smells of haitang blossoms today, the perfume seeped inside her robes.

« Of course they would. A-niang is the fairest of them all » he decides to claim, because he looks like a four years old brat and he’s not supposed to be impartial on the matter but a staunch defender of his mama being the prettiest and the kindest and gifted with every virtue imaginable.

She fans herself with her hand.

« My moondrop is so sure, how is this lowly one expected to deny his praise ? » she pouts, her dark eyes shining with mirth.

However, Shen Yuan frowns, as he just remembered a goddess you pray for beauty tend to also be associated with pleasure from the sensual kind – and love .

Chang’e certainly isn’t interested in papapa, thanks fuck for this because she’s his mother and the mere idea of her doing the deed is enough for his brain to start melting and drip through his ears, but love ? The kind of love that lasts forever and a day, forever and always, the kind you will carry with you a long, long time after the beloved has become naught but dust in the wind ?

He – can see it.

« A-niang ? » he hesitates. « Did – did someone ever prayed to you for love ? »

She stops smiling. It’s sudden and it’s harsh and Shen Yuan wants to shiver, her face is a cold mask carved from flawless jade and utterly devoid of sympathy and kindness and other positive feelings.

« This goddess doesn’t care about foolish little girls or boys refusing to heed the true content of a cautionary tale, and merely focusing on its shallow package. Now, Yuan’er, we have dithered enough – it is time for your lesson. »

He hastily rises to his feet, letting her gracefully stand up and lead him to a degaged spot of grass before showing him the position he needs to take. Soon, he’s focused on the dance moves she’s teaching him, and his breathing quietens.

But he won’t forget the cold mask of his mother’s fury.

Chapter Text

Watching a-Yan and a-Li while they are working in the kitchen, it’s nothing short of impressive.

They are two of them, and they are tasked with feeding around forty rabbits, the giant bodyguard and pest-controller that Hong’er is, and two lunar deities with a delicate palate, and they magnificently rise to the challenge.

Of course, they cheat a bit since they tend to borrow their nieces and nephews when the younger generation look like they have a free period, but the black-furred ladies mostly assure the bigger workload on their own. Sometimes, Shen Yuan wonders if they actually sleep in the kitchen in order to start cooking as soon as they wake up, and it’s a surprisingly plausible image.

Watching them kneading cough for pastries and noodles, cutting vegetables and roots to throw in gently steaming pots and carefully measuring spices before sprinkling a pinch of yellow or red on a dish, Shen Yuan thinks of the dark blotches on the Moon, in which people often claim they are seeing a rabbit with a mortar.

Maybe they were wrong. Maybe they actually see a-Yan or a-Li doing their work, instead of a bunny-shaped Alchemist pounding ingredients to make the elixir of life.

In European alchemical tradition, Shen Yuan has heard it was impossible to enjoy the elixir of life when one isn’t able to create the philosopher’s stone – he doesn’t know how it would work, maybe the elixir is what’s left after the stone has been created in the furnace ? In that case, the Alchemist would have to create another stone every time he drinks the elixir’s last drops, but it would depend on how many years a sip would add to the human lifespan…

Still, it looks much more complicated and illogical than rabbits being entrusted with herbs to give a regular supply of immortality pills to the Heavenly Officials.

On the other hand, he doesn’t believe the Heavenly Officials actually need to consume the immortality pills after ascending. Once a god, they cannot easily be stripped from their power and status, such a decision depends from the Highest Emperor’s judgement – unlike the Greek and Norse pantheons, these deities had to eat ambrosia and golden apples if they didn’t want to grow old and die.

Shen Yuan briefly imagines an orchard somewhere in Scandinavia, golden fruits glinting under the snow and frost as a blue-eyed, fair-haired goddess covered in furs lovingly tends to the trees. Now that would be a sight, wouldn’t it ?

It should be rather similar to the Queen Mother’s own orchard, in which she grows her famed Peaches of Immortality. Wait, golden apples, wouldn’t it be possible to confuse peaches with weird-looking apples ? He will have to ask Nanny – she likely will remind him of the recurrent themes in human mythology and folklore, and the idea of an esthetically pleasing, sweet-smelling fruit rewarding its consumption with a prodigious health and lifespan is a very common one around the world.

As he reflects upon the ability of people unknowingly having a collective consciousness in which they share concepts and beliefs in spite of living in very different countries, a-Yan and a-Li are preparing moon cakes.

They are very careful when they are cooking, donning linen robes and wrapping their paws with cloth in order to prevent their fur to ruin the dishes. Their sister Wei Wei comes in the morning to deliver baskets filled with greens, harvested from the gardens surrounding the Fragrant Palace – most of it will feed the small army of rabbit attendants, since they are herbivores grazing on grass and other leafy plants. Hong’er occasionally brings them the meat of Divine Beasts that tried to breach the Fragrant Palace’s walls, and they will reward his physical exertion through stews and roasts he happily devours, because you need proteins when you are constantly risking your life by strangling huge-ass tigers with your bare hands.

For more exotic produce like sugar, they send Xiao Yi or another messenger to the Imperial Palace, since this is where the luxury goods are distributed, but a rabbit cannot bring back a lot – their main asset when they have to travel in a plane filled with creatures begging to snack on them is to be quick, and the more they are loaded, the less quick they are.

Until Shen Yuan’s first visit to court, the Highest Emperor had the benevolence to send a monthly carriage to the Fragrant Palace, one filled with gifts aiming to entice the Moon fairy to quickly put an end to her parental leave and come back to serve as their most admired entertainer. Nowaday, Chang’e firmly wants to limit her Palace’s dependence on the Highest Emperor’s munificence, so there’s not a carriage anymore.

Shen Yuan internally mourns the fact that it prevents the cooks from baking a lot of sweets and pastries. Nonetheless, they proudly serve the Moon fairy, and they won’t let something as paltry as the lack of proper ingredients stop them from giving the goddess all the moon cakes she can wish for.

A-Yan favors smooth red bean paste for the filling, mashing the adzuki beans and straining them through a sieve before improving the texture with vegetable oil. Sometimes, she will experiment with prunes, melon and green tea, and it’s just as delicious as the more traditional recipes with red bean paste, lotus seed paste and salted duck yolks.

She tends to clash with a-Li on the matter of the crust : what is the better option, crumbly or flaky ? Shen Yuan outright refuses to have a definite opinion about the quarrel, because the loser will certainly cry and be miserable all the month, and he won’t be able to taste her cooking as a consequence. Imagine the tragedy !

A-Li staunchly argues for a flaky crust, the kind similar to puff pastry. She also painstakingly decorates the cakes with flowers and vines, and the results are so pretty it’s almost a shame to eat them – especially when she bakes them into fish shapes, and the golden-brown crust is the same shade as the goldfishes living in the ponds.

Hong’er always looks a bit weird when he’s offered a fish-shaped cake, but he still eats them so it doesn’t seem to be very important.

One might think Shen Yuan would get tired from having moon cakes so often, yet it’s not the case. A-Yan and a-Li manage to make them different at each bite, at each pastry, at each day. That is how you know a cook is worthy to be called a chef, you will always beg them to cook your favorite dishes and it will never get old.

Also, the dark-furred bunnies have the unfair advantage of being the primary cooks of Shen Yuan’s second childhood. No one will ever get to surpass them, even with years upon years of culinary school.

Such is the power of nostalgia, after all.

Chapter Text

Xiao Jiu loved the Mid-Autumn Festival. People were so busy having a good time, they didn’t even notice when their purse got lifted. And after successfully pickpocketing half a dozen bystanders, he and Qi-ge could even buy moon cakes for themselves, there would be left enough for the slavers to not beat them over a bad workday and they wouldn’t have to sleep hungry !

That was awesome. Well, when someone wasn’t trying to kick them away for disrupting the festivities with their stink. Of course they stank ! They were fucking street urchins, did they look like they could take a bath everyday ? See how good you smell, you inbred, soft-shelled turtle, and go lick your grandmother’s ass crack !

Qi-ge was still laughing as they fled, while the fat fucker was busy choking from rage and humiliation, and it was well earned ! Xiao Jiu was insulting people that complety deserved it ! Most of the time, it was the slavers – who also were responsible for teaching him a lot of swears and insults, but the way he strung the words together to devastating effect, it was all Xiao Jiu.

Twice or thrice, people actually laughed and threw coins at his feet for violently cussing. Still, it wasn’t enough for him to stop playing the poor, sickly little orphan when he and Qi-ge were begging on the streets.

« There ! I think no one is following us. »

« You sure ? » the green-eyed boy panted, glaring at Qi-ge who laughed – the older boy never was intimidated in spite of Xiao Jiu’s best efforts to look like he was about to strangle him, he believed Xiao Jiu actually was cute but Qi-ge was dumb enough to feed feral cats, so what he considered cute was far from it.

« Absolutely ! Sit down, sit down. I’ve got fruits to go with the cakes ! »

The apples and pomegranates were bruised from the running, but the orphans had eaten rotten meat to avoid dying from starvation, so it was a heavenly feast worthy to be offered to the Emperor – except that Xiao Jiu would have fought the Emperor instead of sharing his loot. The Emperor had all the food he could eat, anyway, so much food the cooks would throw it in the trash heap because it was too much for one person, and for this Xiao Jiu hated the man chosen by the Heavens to rule over the Middle Kingdom.

Still, it was the same hatred he had for winter because he never was dressed warmly enough to not wonder if he would die this time, the same hatred he had for illness because he just wouldn’t stop falling sick. It was a small hatred, because he was too small and powerless to truly fight against what he hated.

One day, Xiao Jiu would be tall – as tall as this bastard slaver with the rotten teeth and the droopy eyes – and he would be strong – so strong he would be able to lift Qi-ge in his arms and carry him all day long, that would teach him to treat Xiao Jiu as his doll – and he would eat good food everyday, and he would wear real clothes without any holes ! And he would kill the slavers, and he would take Qi-ge far, far away from this shitty town, and he would give the other boy good food to eat, and they would be safe on their own, and Qi-ge would always smile.

Qi-ge was always smiling, but his smiles were different with his mood. Most of the time, he smiled because people hated to hear a street brat crying – yesterday, the slavers had beaten a-Ba for wanting her mama, the idiot, why would she want to go back to a woman who sold her in exchange of a wine crate ? And not even good wine, it smelled like vinegar.

When Qi-ge was really happy, his smile was so fucking bright it blinded Xiao Jiu, the green-eyed boy couldn’t see anything beyond the smile and when the smile disappeared, everything was dark and cold. Right now, it was that smile the older boy was donning, happy and wide and filled with crumbs, and Xiao Jiu wanted to see it again and again and again.

« Hey, Xiao Jiu, do you want to go near the temple ? I bet they are going to tell stories. »

The green-eyed boy snorted as he punched Qi-ge on the shoulder, hard enough for the older boy to feel it.

« They are going to tell the same story ! The one with the hunter and the goddess » he complained, loading his words with all the distaste he could muster.

« Of course. It’s supposed to be their festival » Qi-ge tried to object, and he actually looked like he believed it was a good argument ! Xiao Jiu wanted to puke from disgust, but he wouldn’t waste the fruits and cakes he just consumed this way.

« And everyone already knows what happened ! The hunter was supposed to become immortal, but his wife was upset because she didn’t want to grow old, and she stole her husband’s magic potion and flew to the Moon, and the stupid hunter died all alone and angry because he was a dumbass and trusted her » the green-eyed boy summed up, a sneer on his tiny, thin face.

« Xiao Jiu » Qi-ge whined, « you makes it sound so dry ! Where is the passion ? »

« There is nothing passionate in this stupid story ! » the younger urchin claimed.

« Yes there is ! The hunter was so in love with his wife, he couldn’t even imagine she would betray him » the black-eyed boy dramatically sighed, and he was such an idiot, was that because he was older and growing up ? People forgot how to use their heads when they grew too big and started to drool after the sisters in the brothels…

« If he couldn’t, then he deserved it » Xiao Jiu sniffed, his mouth sticky with pomegranate juice that gave emphasis to his pitiless condemning of the fairy tale character.

Qi-ge pouted.

« Xiao Jiu is mean . »

« Qi-ge is too soft » the younger boy fired back. « One day you will get stabbed in the back, and I will stand over your gutted corpse and laugh because I had warned you and you couldn’t even listen. »

« No, you won’t. You will chase the bastard who killed me and feed them their own hands » Qi-ge gleefully claimed.

Xiao Jiu’s face burned under the sudden hot flush invading his cheeks and his neck and his ears. Qi-ge laughed.

« Xiao Jiu isn’t denying it ! I knew you loved me ! »

«  Shut up  » the younger boy hissed as he seized one of Qi-ge’s dirty tresses and yanked.

It wasn’t enough for the older boy to stop laughing, the slavers had given him far worse beatings on a whim. Qi-ge was smiling and it was blinding.

« I love you too, Xiao Jiu. »

Xiao Jiu hissed, his whole body burning under his threadbare clothes.

« I know . »

Chapter Text

In the Upper Realm, or maybe this is just the Fragrant Palace, one would almost forget there is supposed to be three planes of existence, one for the deities and one for mortals and one for demons.

Well, Hong’er and the rabbits occasionnally mention the Eighteen Hells in which poor shmucks have to be tortured for a few days or years or decades, it varies according the gravity of your sins and how much you have indulged in them, but this is the Underworld, the sanctioned part of Hell – the place in which you can find some measure of order and authority.

The thing is, demons are chaotic in essence. They relish in their passions, they glut themselves with negative emotions and behaviour, they will fight against everything that might force them to be more orderly. Being a demon can be considered freedom at its worst, the kind of freedom Malal the Chaos god of Anarchy from Warhammer Fantasy is preaching – the freedom to do whatever you want without the restrictions imposed by law, morality, religion or familial bonds. The freedom to backstab your allies and to slaughter your enemies alike.

From this viewpoint, Shen Yuan understands why gods tend to have problems with demons existing – and this is without adding the fact that gods are a reflection of mankind, and mankind fears demons. They fear the gleaming teeth and the glowing eyes in the darkness, waiting for the opportunity to pounce and devour, and so they pray for protection.

Er-ge enjoyed to expose his theory about religious belief being nothing more than people seeking to be reassured that they still can appeal to some higher force, that a child afraid of the monster in his closet and crying in terror will be heard and that his parents will come to the rescue.

Nowaday, Shen Yuan wonders how much mankind’s fear has impacted gods. Nanny has told him that it’s about mutually influencing each other, when you start to examine a deity’s relationship with their worshippers. Maybe the first gods were born out of a desperate wish for someone to keep the monsters at bay, or maybe the mortals started to give praise and offerings after someone intervened to protect them. No one is liable to know the answer to this one, after so much time.

Still, it’s a well-established fact of life, gods cannot stand demons. To say they loathe the Lower Realm is very much an understatement, if they could nuke the place without risking the complete destruction of the world – because when you break a chair’s leg, you won’t be able to sit in without falling on your ass and hurting yourself – they would gleefully push the big red button and throw a party afterwards.

Shen Yuan disagrees on principle. Accuse his millenial sensibilities as much as you want, he’s squeamish about genocide. Also, Divine Beasts are a blast, but the Demon Realm has the coolest monsters, and if the plane is destroyed, you can say goodbye to these poor things – and that’s not like they wilingly choose to eat souls or human flesh, they merely are following their instincts ! An animal doesn’t care about morality, it cares about staying alive and feeding its pack or flock or whatever social structure it builds in the wild, you cannot find more innocent a mindset and murdering them in mass is nothing but sheer cruelty.

And as the great sparrow slaughter had shown, what happens when you kill the monsters and they are unable to fulfill their intended role in the ecosystem ? You are up shit creek without a paddle, that’s why, because all the pests eaten by the sparrows you just killed are going to thank you by consuming your crops, and your peasants will starve in so many numbers, you won’t be able to dig enough ditches for them all but when you are really hungry, you will have no qualms feasting upon a corpse.

Thank you grandpa for such vivid imagery, Shen Yuan remembers the nightmares he suffered for a week after this little discussion about growing up under President Mao’s iron-fisted rule. And since it’s about monster extermination, you can bet famine and cannibalism would cause a swell of negative energies in the world, so monsters would be able to easily reproduce and people would have the same number of monsters to fight but much more less fighters and defenders because they would be dead. Not so smart a strategy, that.

In order to cause a genuinely effective genocide against demons, you would need to target their origin : mankind, which also happens to be the gods’ origin. Shen Yuan is unsure about his existence needing worship as sustainance, but he would rather not finding it and he would bet other deities think the same.

This is a reason why the Mortal Realm tends to be such a popular destination for supernatural beings and such a target for extradimensional predators ; this is because the dimension is easy to access, no matter if you came from upside or downside. Of course, the mortals likely don’t see this as a blessing, since it completely ruins their hopes for a quiet life – but even without magic, life as a fragile human being is rather sucky, especially when you’re not living in modern times or somewhere wealthy enough to have running water. Of course they would rather have all the good without the bad.

The thing is, they cannot actually get rid of demons no matter how many they manage to kill, and gods are unable to help them no matter how much they pray for it. So the Upper and Mortal Realms have no choice but to ignore the Demon one unless there is an invasion, or some other kind of big-scale disaster.

It might explain why Shen Yuan is unable to hear anything about demons, or to find a book about demons in the library. Is it possible for demons to be the godly equivalent of diarrhea, you know it’s real but you hate so much thinking about it, you will pretend it doesn’t even exist ?

Shen Yuan cannot help feeling dismayed. He wants the bestiaries and compendiums and even the bloodthirsty politics of the Demon Realm, it constantly changes and evolves because everything demon is sheer chaos, you cannot turn a corner without stumbling upon a surprise and this is awesome – alright, Shen Yuan wouldn’t like to live there, but the place is awesome from far away.

Alas, Xiao Lan seems to hide these books with the trashy novels, or maybe he flat-out refuses to have them in his library, and that’s just sad, Shen Yuan wants to cry tears of blood over the injustice.

When he will be a god in his own right, his library will have so many books, even if the subject is not respectable enough for Heavenly standards.

Chapter Text

Since Immortals are cursed with the inability to easily produce offspring, the bulk of them is constitued by people cultivating enough to ascend, and that is a fact.

Since Immortals are still able to fail badly enough to deserve punishment, the Highest Emperor is allowed to turn them back into mortals and cast them from Heaven, and that is a fact.

Since Immortals enjoy their mortal worshippers praising and giving offerings to them, they need to listen to their prayers and protect them if need be, and that is a fact.

Put all these facts together, they will tell you it’s possible to travel from a plane of existence to another, so long you are using the proper channels.

Shen Yuan is very much happy about it. Alright, he’s content in the Fragrant Palace with Hong’er and a-Niang and the rabbits to cuddle and dote on him, but he doesn’t forget he’s not sickly anymore, and he’s now living in a fantasy universe filled with marvels and weird creatures, and he wants to see everything he was forced to imagine when he still was a shut-in living in a hopelessly mundane world.

He wants to travel someday, and he has no intentions whatsoever to limit himself to the Upper Realm. Yes, you can meet plenty of creatures in the Heavens, just look at the Divine Mother who raises all kind of beasts on her Jade Mountain, but this is like playing Pokemon and limiting yourself to Sinnoh when you are able to visit Alola. You gotta catch them all, or you are unworthy to lay claim to the title of Pokemon Master !

Shen Yuan has no intentions to capture monsters and bring them back to the Fragrant Palace, he just wouldn’t stop killing his goldfishes in his former life so he’s not very optimistic regarding the odds of him keeping an animal alive in his current one, but he really, really want to gush and squee over all the ones he can find – and since he’s a god with an infinite lifespan, he will have the opportunity to find a lot of these.

Well, he needs to leave the Upper Realm to do so, of course. That is another can of worms, because he has no idea of the path he could use to get down there.

He was born on the Moon, so he doesn’t know how Ascending feels like – and he refuses to ask his mother, because he would ask about the worst day she ever lived, and he’s a little shit who’s merciless when deconstructing a novel but he’s not heartless enough to make his own mother cry. He’s not interested in becoming so bad of a nuisance that the Highest Emperor would strip him from godhood, because it tends to involve mass murder and thoroughly ruin anyone associated with the sinner and he’s not doing this to Hong’er and the rabbits. And no one on the mortal plane is aware that the Moon fairy bore a child from her mortal husband, so he has no worshippers to be summoned on Earth.

Still, he watched Fairy Tail, so he knows about Anima, the spell to travel between universes. Such a spell must have been written somewhere, because it’s part of the narrative convention, people won’t let anything stop them from going everywhere they decided to go. Just look at the Apollo missions and the Americans walking on the Moon – and Shen Yuan suddenly imagines a cosmonaute knocking on the Fragrant Palace’s gate because he needs to pee and it’s hot under the helmet, would you be nice about it in spite of our nationality, oh esteemed goddess – even space wasn’t dissuasive enough as a frontier.

So he writes to Nanny – but he’s not openly saying what he wants to know, one has to show subtlety when adressing the Queen Mother of the West. She will see the manipulation for what it is, but it will amuse her into giving you the information because she’s weird this way.

Shen Yuan could directly ask her about dimensional travel and she would still tell him, but she tells him much more when he’s playing games with her. He really doesn’t want to imagine the degree of boredom she has to have reached for behaving in such a convoluted manner.

When Xiao Yi comes back with an answer, it focuses not so much on spells and more over dimensional overlap – Heaven and Hell apparently are layers of existence upon the Mortal Realm, Immortals and mankind and demons living besides each other yet unable to perceive their neighbours no matter how much they strain their senses.

In some places such as the Kunlun mountains, it’s easier to perceive the various layers of existence sandwiched together and jump from one to another – because the Kunlun mountains are so heavily spiritual and filled with energy from the earth meeting the heavens, turning them into a natural nexus for interdimensional paths.

Of course, when the traveler is unable to find a nexus, they have to brute-force their way in the layer they wish to visit by tearing reality apart – since reality fights back, the traveler needs to be possessed of a very strong will and tremendous power or they likely will end up rend apart instead, this is always quite gory the scene.

It’s also possible for the veil between the layers of existence to suddenly and spontaneously open – it tends to happen when huge amounts of diametrically opposite energies are clashing, such as a full-blown war between the cultivation world and the full might of the Infernal Host, and it’s extremely dangerous since the traveler has no control over their destination. Sometimes, it’s impossible to close the scar left in the aftermath, and absolutely nobody likes these passages because it can be turned into a weak point and let a dimension open to assault.

Nanny concludes her letter with a warning against trying his hand at interdimensional travel when he’s unsupervised, reminding him how young and unexperimented he is, and he’s liable to wind up in the depths of Hell rather than on a pretty countryside from the Middle Kingdom, then the Moon fairy would go on a rampage against the Heavens until his return to the Fragrant Palace.

Shen Yuan personally believes his a-Niang wouldn’t lower herself to bully the Upper Realm into submission, she would rather unleash Hong’er in the Imperial Palace to watch the fireworks and wait until the Highest Emperor finally begs for mercy. Hong’er is supposed to be there for fighting in her stead after all, and his primary loyalty is to Chang’e herself so he wouldn’t be that bothered by the prospect.

Meanwhile, he idly remembers the other name given to the Kunlun mountains, in which people believe a mythical abode has been built.

The Jade Mountain, dwelling of the Queen Mother of the West.

Chapter Text

One thing Shen Yuan very well remembers from his previous life in spite of all his efforts to forget, is how awful it felt to be sick. Be it a cold, or his many allergies flaring up, or his cardiac weakness again and again, it was nothing short of hell and it just wouldn’t stop because he was human and far more frail than so many people.

Since he’s a god, never did he catch the slightest bug. He sneezes only when dust is in the air, something quite rare since the chambermaids are bent on keeping the Fragrant Palace perfectly pristine, and his inability to handle direct sunlight is more a metaphysical defect than a metabolism issue and is supposed to clear up when he will grow in age and power, so his health is more perfect that it ever was.

It makes sense, since godhood is considered a refining of the human body until it becomes perfect in every way. Also, Shen Yuan suspects the strong association of gods with Order is to blame – a disease essentially wrecks havoc upon the body, causing chaos among the natural metabolic processes and the Upper Realm doesn’t care for chaos no matter its nature and where it is frolicking so the Heavenly Officials are even less liable to fall sick when they are casually living their life on their own turf.

Still, Shen Yuan feels curious. What is happening beneath his skin ? He needs to breathe and use the toilet and sleep and eat and he gets tired after physical exertion, just like when he was human, but he nonetheless wonders what kind of weirdness is secretly lingering in his body. Does he even bleed red anymore ? The tiny veins he sometimes glimpse in his mother’s eyes are strangely dark, and he’s her son, so he wonders…

Shen Yuan hates getting hurt, rebirth didn’t change that and frankly you needs to be a teeny bit unhinged to enjoy suffering, but he really wants his answers, and so he waits for Hong’er to start his morning training in the courtyard to steal the bodyguard’s dagger for a while.

It’s a very good knife with a bone handle and a ceramic blade, white on white that is perfect for the Moon fairy’s retainer and it’s very, very sharp, Shen Yuan only has to stroke the dagger’s cutting edge for his finger to be cleanly scratched.

« Young Master ! »

Hong’er is not panicking, the Fragrant Palace’s resident Hagrid can wrestle a Divine Beast with ease and carelessly faces the Heavenly Bureaucracy when he’s accompanying his mistress to the Imperial Palace, but he’s certainly wild-eyed as he almost runs to Shen Yuan and steals the dagger back.

« Young Master knows he’s not allowed to handle blades without someone to watch over him » the bodyguard more calmly reminds his young charge. « Your esteemed mother would rip my throat open if I brought you back to her without your left hand. »

How silly, Shen Yuan still has his hand firmly attached to his wrist, his finger is barely bleeding and it will probably stop on its own without even putting a bandage on the scratch ! Why are you fretting so much, one would believe you’re about to faint !

The scratch… the scratch isn’t red or pink, it’s a dark silvery colour and the sluggish flow – are Shen Yuan’s veins filled with mercury instead of good old regular blood ? The Ancients earnestly believed mercury or quicksilver because it’s much more poetic a name would prolong life, heal fractures and maintain generally good health, with the first Emperor to truly unify China Qin Shi Huang drinking a mercury and powdered jade mixture in order to be granted immortality – rather ironically, it contributed to his demise because mercury is fucking toxic and a poison when ingested or breathed by a living organism.

Is Shen Yuan going to die, from having his blood replaced by the liquid metal ? Or were the Qin alchemists on to something genuine, and merely overerestimated the Emperor’s ability to overcome the elixir’s deleterous properties and his potential to access true immortality ? On the other hand, this is the historical record in his former, extremely mundane world, but his soul was able to cross dimensions and universes so why wouldn’t ideas and concepts do the same ?

« Young Master, are you listening to me ? »

Hong’er is frowning as he carefully seizes Shen Yuan’s small hand – he likely would have touched the cut finger alone but the bodyguard’s huge paws are far too clumsy for such a precise work – then a twinge of cold and damp and scaly suddenly itches right beneath Shen Yuan’s skin, and when the transmigrated soul recoils with a yelp there’s no hint of a scratch on his pale, unmarred skin.

« Oh » Shen Yuan breathes, « you healed me. »

« Of course I did. This humble servant is tasked with preventing the Young Master from suffering the faintest scar under his watch. »

The bodyguard’s voice is rather reproachful, and Shen Yuan briefly feels ashamed but not that much so he pouts instead.

« Having a scar would be quite a good reminder, don’t you think ? For the very first time I got injured. »

Alright, Shen Yuan is extremely young for a deity, his physical age is very much in the lower digits, but he has been so coddled since he was reborn he never even got a papercut from the books Xiao Lan and Wang Wang and Tu’er Ye give him to read as homework.

« Young Master will have to forgive this humble servant if he disagrees » Hong’er snorts. « Bad times should be erased from your memory. How could it be possibly beneficial to be reminded of one’s pain and hurt ? »

« If it is such a good idea, then why does my lady mother refuse to forget her late husband ? » Shen Yuan fires back. « Also, she would have to throw me away for being this man’s offspring, yet she hopelessly clings to me. »

There, Hong’er is left speechless, and Shen Yuan relishes in his verbal triumph. He’s right and it’s impossible for the bodyguard to find a good counterattack because it would implicitly disavow the Fragrant Palace’s mistress, and a good servant has to avoid this no matter how much it personally costs them or they can kiss their job goodbye.

First rule in the workplace : the boss is always right, even when they are wrong. After that, the client is always right, then your immediate superior if there is, then the boss’ favorite employee, then maybe you if you’re very lucky.

When one is working, it’s better to keep quiet.

Chapter Text

There is a pond deprived of goldfishes and lotus blossoms in the Fragrant Palace, because the bunnies use it for drinking water and bathing and the laundry once a week. Shen Yuan learns this very much accidentally, when he leaves the usual gravel path and wanders close from the help’s quarters.

He never visited the wing in which the bunnies rest and live when they are not fulfilling their duties before – something about knowing his place as a Young Master, it wasn’t actually forbidden for him to go and see but it would nonetheless be considered quite inappropriate. Also, Shen Yuan enjoys his privacy, so he can allow the people around him their own intimacy, he knows he wouldn’t like to be disturbed when he’s lazing in his bedroom.

When he first stumbles on the weekly laundry, Shen Yuan believes he’s accidentally peeping on the bunnies washing. Because when the laundress is barely the height of a toddler, it’s rather complicated to clean the curtains without falling in the water – so the bunnies are mixing both, using soap for their fur and a mixture of lye and wood ashes for the laundry, be careful when using one or you might confuse them, then the clothes will still be dirty and the fur will lose its luster and that won’t do at all.

Alright, peeping on furry rabbits is very different from peeping on human beings, and the bunnies don’t really care about the Young Master accidentally disturbing their bath before they’re first and foremost beasts with the adequate level of shame regarding exhibitionism, but Shen Yuan nonetheless flusters and babbles a lot of apologies while a-Ying fusses over him in spite of her damp and soapy fur, she’s going to feel so cold !

Since he’s upset, a-Wu decides to punish him by asking him to comb and brush their fur while they are waiting for the laundry to dry on the rocks scattered around the pond, and Shen Yuan quickly learns nothing is more fluffy and cuddly than a clean bunny who has enjoyed several minutes of grooming.

In his previous life, Shen Yuan has heard of social grooming, when animals bond and reinforce social structures and soothe one another by cleaning or maintaining the body or appearance. One of da-ge’s friends asked him to pet-sit his budgies once, and the birds spent hours mutually preening their feathers. He also remembers a nature documentary about Japanese monkeys visiting hot springs when winter gets really cold.

Bunnies are not monkeys no matter how much you squint, and these ones are living on the Moon, but he can see the similarities. Yes, it’s about working, but the rabbits also want to have fun together – some kind of familial outing, strictly between girls but they are pretty sure the males have their own way to kick back and relax.

Shen Yuan tries to imagine Tu’er Ye losing his stuffiness to relax surrounded by his many, many descendants and utterly fails at it, his brain threatening to break.

A-Ying and a-Wu and a-Xian and Wei Wei and all the others giggle in front of his constipated expression, obviously understanding what he wanted to do, and tell him that’s alright, they don’t know either and when they ask, the males claim it’s supposed to be a secret because males can be so prickly over silly things.

« I am a male » Shen Yuan reminds them out of masculine solidarity.

« Young Master is forgiven for this unfortunate defect » Wei Wei deadpans, and her daughters cackle and squeak while he groans.

When he brushes the soft fur, he marvels at the sheer amount of hair a rabbit will shed – you would be able to weave a meter-long tapestry with the pile resulting from a grooming session, and this is only half of the rabbit population inhabiting the Fragrant Palace total.

« Yes, that’s a lot » a-Xian sighs. « Fortunately we can use combs, or we would have to lick ourselves in order to look presentable and that would be rather dangerous. »

Shen Yuan frowns.

« How so ? »

« When a rabbit is licking themselves clean, they will ingest their fur but we cannot regurgitate it as cats would do. So the hair accumulate in our throats and stomachs until there is no place left, and we cannot feed anymore and we starve to death. »

Yikes. Shen Yuan gags – holy shit is he lucky to have this ability, the more he learns about the world the more he realizes he cannot take anything for granted.

« Why are you rabbits so fragile ? » he ultimately complains as he scratches a-Xian’s droopy ears. « You will get eaten by everything under the Heavens, your brain boil in your head if you get too hot from running, now you will choke on your hairballs ! I am truly wondering if the forefather of your species accidentally offended the Highest Emperor to the point he punished you with such a cursed fate. »

« Young Master is saying we are cursed » a-Ying sighs. « Why is that so ? »

« … Well, you are constantly wondering if you are going to die tomorrow, aren’t you ? Even living here... »

« True, true » a-Xian concedes. « But Young Master could say the same about mortals battling starvation and diseases in their own realm, or even demons battling each other in Hell. Nothing is certain, so why are we cursed more than the others ? »

« Especially when we are blessed with the opportunity to serve the Young Master and his esteemed mother » a-Wu adds. « Do my fur next, please ? »

A-Xian hisses as she opens her ruby red eyes, having previously closed them while Shen Yuan was petting her neck.

« Step away, he’s currently tending to me. »

« No he’s not, he just finished. Aren’t you, my Young Master ? Surely it’s time to chase my lovely sister from your lap, especially since she’s not that light anymore... »

« How dare you, when you are the one who will stuff yourself at every meal ! »

Great, a-Wu and a-Xian look ready to fight. A rabbit shouldn’t be able to balefully eyeball someone it currently doesn’t like, it doesn’t feel alright at all ! Shen Yuan wants to cry in dismay, it must be Tu’er Ye’s genes at work ! He knew it, nothing good will ever come from a cute little bunny learning how to do a bitchface, now they can show actual hostility !

Er-ge likely would adore this evolution, but Shen Yuan doesn’t !

Chapter Text

« I must say, it has been a long time since we saw each other. »

The Queen Mother of the West eyeballed her current guest over her teacup.

« Remind me who decided she would rather wander the universe as long as one single soul would cry in distress and pain, instead of relaxing in Heaven with everyone else ? Truly, girl, you are the one at fault here. »

She was answered by a blinding, absolutely shameless smile that expressed utter lack of remorse and repentance. Ah well, she never truly believed she would successfully lay a guilt-trip over Guanyin, the bodhisattva wasn’t the kind to feel regret.

Guanyin or Kuan Yin, also known as Chenrézik and Avalokitasvara and Kanzeon, the Merciful Goddess, She who Perceives the Sounds of the World, was a rather pretty brunette draped in translucent pinkish veils wrapped around her breasts and her waist, her messy curls carelessly tied in a high ponytail and golden bracelets around her biceps and wrists and ankles, a light of laughter perpetually lighting her dark eyes.

Of course, that was the appearance she used in order to not scare people when she wanted to talk with them. The thousand arms and eleven heads of her true godly form were more terrifying than anything.

Xiwangmu knew of a religion in the Western part of the Mortal Realm, something about a singular god with attendants that would look like wheels covered in eyeballs or burning giants with nine wings also covered in eyeballs, or human beings with multiple animal heads and several pairs of wings. They sometimes went to deliver their god’s word to the mortals, and always needed to introduce themselves by telling the worshippers to not fear them in spite of their eldritch appearances – fear not could be applied to the bodhisattva too, really.

Guanyin being Guanyin, she would rather appear as a normal-looking mundane woman. Or a man. Or both, or neither – after reaching enlightenment, things like gender barrier looked rather silly and unimportant, and why would mercy and compassion be limited to women or men, Guanyin argued, when you started to put people in boxes, you started to believe people were things and when you believe people are things, you don’t feel bad when mistreating them.

Yes, the bodhisattva had a lot of opinions, and many of them quite displeasing to the Heavenly Bureaucracy. Fortunately, the Merciful Goddess rarely came at court, claiming she had far too much work on her plate and complaining it was a stuffy place anyway, she would die from boredom if she stayed in the Imperial Palace more than half a week !

Sometimes, Xiwangmu envied the bodhisattva and wistfully remembered the days of her youth, when she was a plague goddess focused on running amok and enjoying herself to the fullest by doing whatever she wanted, whenever she pleased. Of course she couldn’t go back to the girl she then had been, but a trip down memory lane, everyone was allowed to feel a bit nostalgic once or twice in a century, right ?

The Divine Mother daintly sipped her tea. It tasted of fruit with hints of pine, dried plum and flowers – perfect for one who raised a menagerie in the most expansive gardens of the Heavens.

« Anyway, about my cute little student. »

Guanyin snorted, idly stroking the white cockatoo sitting on the table and busy eating seeds in a small green-glazed dish besides her own teacup.

« I heard of your new toy – by the way, congratulations for capturing the youngest Immortal of the Upper Realm. How did you escape his mother’s righteous fury, I still wonder. »

Xiwangmu shrugged, inspecting her orange-lacquered nails.

« You are hurting me, implying I would willingly groom a child to be stolen away from his mother. How did you earn to be named the Merciful Goddess, I wonder. »

« This is because I know you that I am asking » Guanyin deadpanned.

Somewhere on the Jade Mountain, a qilin mournfully called for its mate to join it. The light was golden and pure, giving a rich tint to the plants and blossoms surrounding the pavilion in which both deities – the Buddhist and the Taoist – were discussing.

« Shen Yuan will grow up to become quite the extraordinary young man » the Divine Mother ultimately admitted. « Yet this venerable one wonders if it’s going to be a boon for the Three Realms or a plague upon us all. »

« Maybe Your Majesty could trust the Fragrant Palace’s Young Master to make the right choices when he will leave on his pilgrimage among the mortals » Guanyin suggested. « She might be pleasantly surprised. »

Of course the Merciful Goddess would push for this course of action. Guanyin wasn’t the kind to deeply involve herself in other people’s messes, she was content to give them an hint and sit back to watch the fireworks, always trusting everything would go as she intended, and the worst thing was how often she was right, it was quite annoying.

« Speaking of pilgrimages, aren’t you supposed to organize one of these for soon ? » Xiwangmu remembered. « The one with the golden cicada and this pretentious little monkey that wrecked the Highest Emperor’s palace – let me tell you, he was not happy when you swooped down and prevented him from cutting the impulsive critter’s neck. »

Guanyin snorted.

« This pretentious little monkey, as you said, has eaten your peaches and scratched his name in King Yama’s records and survived Laozi’s eight-way trigram crucible, do you actually think it’s still possible to kill him when he enjoys multi-layered immortality ? And yes, he’s a troublemaker but that is why I need him. When one is used to cause trouble, one needs to learn thinking fast in order to fix the consequences or flee from them, journeying to the West will take brawn AND brains. »

« Your pilgrim won’t thank you for saddling him with this furry idiot » Xiwangmu warned the bodhisattva.

« At least he won’t get bored » Guanyin declared with a blinding smile that blatantly explained she would use her scrying mirror to look at the disaster.

Maybe the Divine Mother would be allowed to watch the spectacle too, if she brought snacks. Was Guanyin still partial to sweet osmanthus cakes and lemon curd ? Oh, and she would take several jars of wine – they would bet on how humiliated the pilgrims would get when they would stumble into yet another demon trap !

Privately, the Queen Mother hoped they would fall into many traps. Yes, she still was furious about losing her vase – she spent centuries painting her favorite animals upon it, after millenia carving and polishing the crystal, she cried in anger and frustration more than once and seriously wondered why she still was putting so much effort in this craft, but she managed to complete it and it was one of the proudest, happiest moments in her immortal life.

Then the Curtain-lifting General destroyed it in a fit of bad mood. Well, she hoped he enjoyed being turned into a sand demon and exiled in the Mortal Realm, it was far too light a punishment when she would have fed him to her tigers – without stripping him of his immortality, meaning he would have been aware while he was devoured, digested and shat by the beasts.

Compassion had its place in the universe, but justice should be merciless and unforgettable.

Chapter Text

When the summoning for another dance comes from the Imperial Palace, Shen Yuan fortunately has grown up a bit.

Alright, it’s not a lot of growth, more eight or nine years old than sixteen or seventeen now, but it’s nonetheless far better than four years old, Shen Yuan will repeat it until his tongue withers from exhaustion. His face is slightly more defined instead of pudgy, his height reaches above his mother’s waist and the bunnies marvel at the fact he’s going to tower over them soon, also he lost a huge part of clumsiness even if it will likely never fully disappear, Shen Yuan wasn’t the most graceful or elegant being in his previous life and his tutors just won’t stop reminding him that he slouches and ought to watch his step, but seriously, who’s going to see him being a disgusting slob in the Fragrant Palace and care ?

« We and your esteemed mother will see » Tu’er Ye mercilessly points with his most fearsome bitch face, if his eyes could shoot lazers then Shen Yuan already would have been turned into a pitiful heap of cinders.

« Bad habits will only grow and run out of control if one encourages them » a-Ji adds. « If the Young Master indulges himself in the Fragrant Palace, then one day he will forget himself in front of the Highest Emperor and the whole court will make a mockery of you ! That won’t be allowed, not as long as your humble servants draw breath ! »

Since Shen Yuan hates making a scene by arguing with people he genuinely likes in spite of their many flaws, he cowardly folds under the rabbits’ combined assault – and that’s fucking unfair, letting two fluffy critters bully a poor little moon god into obedience, really he should file a complain ! Knowing the Celestial Bureaucracy, these dudes have paperwork for any kind of problem you can imagine and a lot you cannot, surely there has to exist some committee or league for weak-willed deities unable to say no when their servants force them to go on a diet because they earnestly believe it will benefit their employer’s health.

Fortunately, a-Yan and a-Li don’t even think about implementing such betrayal – Shen Yuan and his mother very much need their comfort foods after all the physical exertion from dancing and archery, depriving them of these beautiful mooncakes would be nothing short of a crime worth death or permanent exile from Heaven if one is in a merciful mood, and Shen Yuan doesn’t feel merciful when he loses on his daily portion of sugary goodness.

Yes, he’s aware that he’s acting like a spoiled brat, but newsflash, he’s a god and gods tend to be dickish in myths, because when you have nothing to do but drink ambrosia and throw around thunderbolts on everything you don’t like, life gets quite boring until you decide to fuck every pretty girl in the country (and more than a few boys too because you’re a depraved horndog) which enrages your wife into murdering your lovers and their families when she learns of their existence.

Seriously, Zeus was so kinky it outright dived into disturbing and gross. Even Luo Binghe would have balked at turning in some ant and seduce the lust interest of the week – on the other hand, turning in a bull and abducting the princess after letting her climb on his back, yeah, he totally would. More than once, the protagonist had claimed to be someone he wasn’t in order to seduce a sister before unveiling himself in all his demonic glory, when it was far too late for the poor gal to run away somewhere in Mongolia or Thailand.

Shen Yuan is pretty sure the barbarian hordes occasionally mentioned by Airplane, making trouble for the Middle Kingdom and preventing them from opposing Luo Binghe’s rise as a tyrant in the Mortal Realm, actually were Xiongnu – of course the protagonist had fought one or two warbands when he discovered they were led by a beautiful warrioress he fiercely dueled before papapa her into mindless adoration and loyalty – and the tribal confederation had been a dominant power of the steppes in Siberia and Mongolia. Also, he remembered mentions of Dongying and Silla, so it wasn’t only the Middle Kingdom that existed in Proud Immortal Demon Way – that would have been fun to explore a bit this side, but Airplane being a sellout limited himself to both states offering tribute to the Saintly Ruler by sending him noblewomen to marry, and alright it was a genuine historical custom but said noblewomen weren’t useful at all as political pawns, you would believe their fathers just wanted to sell them far away from home because all of them were haughty bitches cast from the same mold than the Little Palace Mistress…

Maybe it had been such. And isn’t that a depressing thought, for your parents to not even care about you ? At least the Old Palace Master had shamelessly spoiled and doted on his daughter, even when he carelessly handed her to a manipulative, sadistic half-demon – he likely thought they would be a perfect match considering their ugly tempers.

Shen Yuan wonders if his mother will want for him to give her grandchildren one day. He supposes there is still time for him to have fun and wander around, he’s not even the right age for suffering a second round of puberty, but one of Confucianism’s main tenets is to have a family after all.

Maybe she will get to feel lonely, after so many centuries surrounded by rabbits and birds and fishes and a sticky brat, so she will want for female company ? Well, so long as the bride is nice, Shen Yuan can endure wedding, he thinks.

Of course, in order for him to get married, he needs to know who is marrigeable and it suddenly becomes a very complicated matter – because the only place in which he can mingle with other people and socialize is the Imperial Palace that is filled with Heavenly Officials much, much older than himself.

No, he won’t ask the Divine Mother to help him, because she will ask a favour as a price for her intervention and he very well imagines her introducing him to the weirdos because she wants to look at him freaking out and panicking while she’s busy laughing and petting one of her tamed beasts juke like a B-movie criminal mastermind would pet a grumpy white cat.

Hm, does the Queen Mother own a baihu ? She likely does, and now Shen Yuan will have nightmares of her throwing a hapless courtier in a barrel filled with vinegar and waiting for him to drown while she’s cackling her most evil laugh. It would be so in character, it’s not even funny anymore.

Truly, he’s lucky er-ge never got the opportunity to learn of her existence.

Chapter Text

The second yayue dance Shen Yuan watches his mother perform in front of the Highest Emperor and almost every Immortal to be affiliated with the Taoist and folk pantheon… well, it goes.

It’s very much like the first time they were summoned at the Imperial Palace. The travel by carriage, the light hurting Shen Yuan’s eyes – for fuck’s sake, he cannot wait the moment he finally will be powerful enough to stop his eyeballs from sizzling in their orbits when he wants to go outside in daylight – the small quiet cottage in which they are lodging, a-Niang carefully practicing her choregraphy while her handmaidens squabble over the formal clothes for the feast. This time, Shen Yuan has been dressed in a very pale yellow ruqun embroidered with delicate peonies in gold threading, a gold hairnet keeping his curls neatly pinned in a demure bun and he feels so much like one of his meimei’s dolls.

His bitching about the clothes apart, it’s rather expected for the experience to be more or less similar to his introduction. The Heavens are a Realm of Order after all, they thrive on rules, traditions and the status quo. Of course they will seek to endlessly recreate a perfect moment – a bug trapped in amber, preserved for eternity while people marvel at the jewel and its dessicated tenant.

Shen Yuan muses it must be slightly boring from endlessly reliving the same day. No wonder the Divine Mother was so eager to meet him, currently the youngest Immortal in the Heavens and still to grow in someone interesting – and no wonder she’s that much of a troll, people when bored will go a mite cuckoo and do things as dumb as writing letters they will throw on their neighbour’s balcony or mix yoghurt with coffee and broccoli.

No wonder the Heavenly Officials are so fascinated by the Moon fairy as she’s dancing in front of the throne. How many times did she do this ? It cannot have been that frequent, since she was pregnant when she ascended, then she fled the Imperial Palace as soon as she could to raise Shen Yuan in the Fragrant Palace – he thinks she must have entertained them thrice, maybe half a dozen times, but not more.

Of course they want more of her. She’s something new, something shiny – shiny as the moonlight on the frozen surface of a pond in the winter, cold and harsh as the emptiness between the stars, and they cannot catch her in spite of trying to grasp at her reflection on the water again and again, until their fingers blacken from frostbite and she keeps looking down on her foolish worshippers, don’t they know her heart will always belong to another ?

As Shen Yuan watches his mother in her pristine finery, her painted eyes closed as her feet and arms are gracefully moving in fluid patterns, he again feels the bone-aching urge to jump in, to upset her dance. Anything to make her feel not alone anymore.

He doesn’t. One cannot disturb a ritual under pain of heavy consequences, even when one is the spawn of the officiant – and so he looks, and when the xun flute finally exhales its last note and the Moon fairy stills, he releases a breath filled with tension.

More than a few faces in the audience have tear tracks glistening on their cheeks in the soft glow of the night pearls. The Queen Mother is smiling as she slowly drinks the alcohol in her green-glazed cup, her golden tree-shaped buyao minutely shivering, and Shen Yuan wonders if the expression is excited or thoughtful, maybe it’s both because you never know with this old biddy.

After praising the performance, the Highest Emperor finally grants Chang’e the freedom to sit and enjoy the feast – intended to celebrate the harvest in the Mortal Realm, and Shen Yuan earnestly suspects it’s more symbolic than truly alignated with the human calendar. Time in the Upper Realm is fluid, he cannot forget.

As this is a huge feast, people are sitting to very long tables and yes, they need to share their space. Shen Yuan is lucky since he has been placed at the very end of their table, with a-Ying quietly sitting right behind him if he needs to ask something of her while Hong’er is a looming shadow in lamellar armor right behind the Moon fairy, and he looks formidable indeed.

On the Moon fairy’s other side is unfortunately seated an Heavenly Official wearing red armour to go with his red hair – literally crimson hair because this is the Upper Realm, and Shen Yuan isn’t exactly well-placed to criticize unusual appearances with his albino complexion – drinking his cup of alcohol so fast that the attendants struggle to refill it and trying to discuss with Chang’e.

She doesn’t even look at him, but he seems happy to talk on his own, introducing himself as Marshal Canopy, commander-in-chief of eighty thousands soldiers in the Heavenly Army and gifted with tremendous strength suitable for one of such status. Hong’er is carefully unemotive in the same way he is when he stumbles on a Divine Beast napping under a wisteria tree or bathing in a pond, and Shen Yuan actually glimpses the bodyguard’s hand twitching towards the ceremonial dagger hanging on his belt.

Shen Yuan finds himself hoping that his own personal Hagrid will use the blade, because that’s his mother the self-aggrandizing twit is bothering, cannot he see she’s tired from dancing and just wants to rest ? Leave her alone !

But of course the guy is unable to listen the warnings buzzing under Shen Yuan’s head like a swarm of rabid wasps and after drinking a cup too much, he finally acts on a very, very stupid impulse.

Everyone shrieks when Hong’er breaks Marshal Canopy’s nose and sends him flying in the opposite wall. Shen Yuan has to cuddle a-Ying as she moans from the sudden assault against her poor sensitive ears, almost knocked out by the sheer volume, and it doesn’t look like the cacophony is going to quiet down as Heavenly Officials are yelling and moving towards the stunned jerk in red armour and a stoic Hong’er.

Then the Highest Emperor stands up, the beads on his headdress softly chiming, and silence immediately falls down on the hall.

« Hong’er from the Fragrant Palace. Explain yourself. »

Proud and unbowed as he stares everyone present down, the bodyguard truly seems a giant ready to slaughter any foe on his path, no matter how fearsome.

« Marshal Canopy has attempted to kiss my lady on the mouth » he bluntly reveals. « Without her blessing, and might this lowly servant remind Your Majesty my lady is a married woman  ? »

Shen Yuan has to marvel at the sheer restraint Hong’er just has displayed under the Highest Emperor’s roof. Personally, he wouldn’t have be alright with punching the swine’s lights out.

He would have slit his throat open instead.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan has painstakingly learnt the rites – how to perfectly behave no matter the circumstances – and that is why there’s no doubt the Marshal Canopy is going to suffer a heavy punishment.

First of all, he indulged his thirst to the point it made him stupid. A perfect gentleman is one that doesn’t push his limits too far, and when it nonetheless happens, he does the utmost to keep to himself and not inflict his disgrace upon others – something the Heavenly Official pointedly didn’t do.

Second, he thoroughly ruined a very important celebration by harassing the main officiant that just had performed a ritual dance, while she was supposed to relax and unwind after cumulating so much stress. The aftermath of a ritual is just as sacred as the ritual itself, and the swine spat on this with his uncouth behaviour.

Last but not least, he sexually assaulted Shen Yuan’s mother, the Moon fairy who is notorious for her devotion to her late, deeply mourned husband’s memory. For all she is aloof and holds herself separate from the Imperial Palace, she’s praised for her staunch chastity and unwavering faithfulness in the marital duty – and she was kissed against her will, her virtue basically trampled underfoot in spite of her being a guest of the Highest Emperor and entitled to respect and protection.

So yeah, the Marshal Canopy is going down, and harshly. Shen Yuan cannot bring himself to have pity for the fool, even if a spark of interest lights in his chest when he hears voices calling for the pig to be cast down from the Upper Realm for a thousand lives in order to repent and expiate his sin – maybe he will get to see the Highest Emperor ripping a tear in reality to allow inter-realm travel, he really wants to visit Earth one day and if only he could learn how to safely jump from one dimension to another…

Except that his mother refuses to stay a single minute longer in the hall, she stands up with her skin and her eyes ominously glowing, her silver bracelets and hairpins chiming as she gracefully yet mercilessly strides towards the exit, people scattering in front of her like a bunch of headless chicken, Hong’er scooping Shen Yuan and a-Ying in his arms in order to follow her.

Hong’er technically ought to be censored for committing violence in the Imperial Palace, while he was in the same hall than the Highest Emperor and the Queen Mother of the West and their best-ranked advisors and generals and attendants, but since he was defending his lady’s honour, he likely will be left alone. That and Chang’e looks ready to gruesomely murder anyone bothering her, so trying to accuse her bodyguard from not acting properly would royally tick her off.

That would be magnificent, in the way of earthquakes and tidal waves everywhere, Nature’s primal, sheer fury that doesn’t care a fig about collateral damage. Heavenly Officials might gain a lot in health and ability when it comes to endure misfortune, but they still are gifted with survival instincts.

When they reach the cottage, the rumor mill has managed to spread so quickly a-Niang’s chambermaids and Xiao Yi already are aware of the incident, and the three rabbits are very much fuming with indignation and righteous anger.

« How dares this swine » a-Wu darkly mutters as she’s packing her mistress’ gowns in a trunk, « to treat milady as nothing but a common whore ! »

« Hong’er should have strangled him on the spot » a-Xian chimes in. « It’s forbidden to stain the Imperial Palace by spilling blood, but suffocating should be acceptable ? »

Shen Yuan wants to kiss her furry nose as a reward. Unfortunately, he’s busy shedding his pretty clothes to be attired with much more practical pants and a jacket for travel.

Because a-Niang flat-out refuses to stay here, when the Marshal Canapy has been so inexcusably rude and ill-mannered in spite of attending the harvest feast – when one is allowed to come, this is because they are considered mature and educated enough to follow the rules and not insult another guest or making a fool out of themselves.

If the Highest Emperor wants to summon the Moon fairy in the near future, he will have to grovel a lot – and seriously tighten the security while he personally ensures every single guest of the ceremony is known for self-control and perfect manners. Otherwise she won’t make an appearance – and since the Autum Harvest Festival is meant to be her festival, that would be tremendously awkward.

A-niang isn’t exactly heartbroken by the prospect. Alright, she’s currently furious and that tends to shift one’s priorities, but she never has been that fond of the pageantry and glamour coming with living at court – she’s happy in the Fragrant Palace in which she’s surrounded with trusted servants and Shen Yuan, rather than having to watch every step she undertakes.

Right as they have almost finished with the departure’s preparations – a-Wu and a-Xian and a-Ying are professionals and casually handle the matter in spite of how quick it had been decided – someone knocks at the door and Hong’er goes to open as everyone believes Xiao Yi has brought the carriage for them to go.

This is the Queen Mother of the West, draped in pink silks and golden jewellery, a small pout on her painted lips.

« Really, girl, leaving without even saying goodbye to your host ? This venerable one almost feels irritated. »

« Do I look like I care ? » the Moon fairy fires back.

« Absolutely not » the Divine Mother concedes and she sounds weirdly delighted by the fact. « You look like you wants to stomp me into paste and feed my remains to your pet rabbits. Such fire in you, and I must say, after seeing what kind of weepy and melancholic mess the Moon fairy could be, anger suits you far better. »

Chang’e snorts.

« If Your Majesty is hoping to persuade this lowly one to not leave, she came for nothing. »

« Don’t worry about that » Nanny soothes her, daring to pat Shen Yuan’s mother on her shoulder. « If a woman doesn’t show quite clearly what she won’t allow in her presence, people will take that as a blessing to be their most wretched selves in front of her. Listen to your anger, and make the consequences of offending you legendary, then you will be nothing but respected for they will carefully toe the line under pain of suffering the brunt of your displeasure. »

« Is storming out of the Imperial Palace insulting enough ? » Shen Yuan cannot help but ask.

Xiwangmu chuckles.

« That’s a good start, yes. »

Chapter Text

As Hong’er is loading the carriage, the Queen Mother blithely reveals that the Marshal Canopy has indeed been stripped from his title, rank and godhood to be reincarnated as a mortal on Earth. However, he won’t be sent to the Mortal Realm before the evening, for the symbolism because this is the Upper Realm and that kind of detail matters when you are enacting something important, and so Xiwangmu wishes to know if the Moon fairy – being the offended party – wants to add her input in the disgraced Heavenly Official’s upcoming penance.

« Let everyone see how much of a swine he is » Chang’e commands. « Beyond that, I don’t care. »

« If a pig he’s supposed to be, then a pig he shall be » the Divine Mother swears with a mischievous smile that really ought to come with orange and black stripes.

Shen Yuan suspects the curvy goddess with her poisonous green eyes from speaking quite literally, as deities in folkore are disturbingly fond of turning hapless victims and genuine assholes into all kinds of birds, fishes and beasts to teach them a more or less deserved lesson. Still, he’s alright with the man who attempted to sexually assault his mother stuck as a hog for many, many years.

He will have to ask a-Yan and a-Li if they can cook some pork dishes. Shen Yuan is certain that a-Niang and Hong’er and himself will enjoy these foods for a bit.

After that, the matter is closed, and the Queen Mother bids the Moon fairy farewell as the carriage’s door closes upon Shen Yuan and his mother – shouting she will keep them informed from the latest happenings at court as the carriage starts moving.

This time, they are not accompanied by an escort with full armour and weapons – they left far too quickly for being granted such privilege, it takes time to mobilize soldiers and guards after all – and it forces Hong’er to serve as their sole line of defence against Divine Beasts sniffing the rabbits and wanting a snack.

Fortunately, Shen Yuan’s personal Hagrid has decades of experience regarding fighting against monsters unsupported, and breezes through the attacks with such strength and talent that a-Niang and Shen Yuan often don’t even notice they are under assault – well, until Xiao Yi starts gushing over the giant bodyguard’s prowess.

When the carriage finally reaches the gate of the Fragrant Palace, Hong’er has slaughtered two pixiu – likely starving for the silver jewellery safely packed in the trunks – and a longma covered in shiny scales – the beast was disturbed when the horses drawing the carriage stopped to drink in its river, and it had to be put down before eating or maiming one of the equines.

Shen Yuan very much admires the Divine Beasts when he finally leaves the safe enclosure of the vehicle, and internally laments the circumstances in which they were killed – yet another reason to be angry at the former Marshal Canopy, he’s the one responsible for their hasty departure, and these beautiful creatures would still enjoy existence if they hadn’t stumbled upon their little party !

Because they are beautiful, these Divine Beasts : the dragon-horse looks like it rolled itself in copper coins, its scales more fishlike than dragonlike and its head pointy to allow it to swim in the river’s current, while the pixiu are splendidly antlered with fluffy wings yet lack an orifice for defecation.

« It is rumoured the Highest Emperor was so furious when he learned the pixiu forefather had soiled the floor of his palace, he spanked it hard enough to seal its anus permanently shut » Hong’er reveals as he admires his catch. « Nowaday, when a pixiu eats something that doesn’t sit well in its belly, it has to regurgitate and it usually eliminates the same way. »

That’s rather weird, as far as organisms are concerned, and slightly gross, but Shen Yuan is genuinely fascinated. He thinks the only thing he can compare the pixiu is a sea star, basically the closest lifeform to a full-blown alien on Earth when he still was a mortal – seriously, they regenerate and asexually reproduce and digest food outside their body, this is grade-A weird shit, but life in the oceans tend to be really, really creative and freaky as a rule.

As the giant bodyguard is explaining his young charge the finer details of how to successfully fight off a longma, the bunnies are busy panicking over their mistress’ very unexpected comeback, they are not prepared for this ! Then the Moon fairy drops the bombshell of the reason why she wouldn’t stay the customary month as a guest to the Highest Emperor, and the rabbits immediately hiss their disgust and understanding.

Tu’er Ye has his ears twitching and looks like he wants to personally give a piece of his mind to every single Heavenly Official that ever lived regarding their failure to pay the proper respects to his mistress. For once, Shen Yuan thinks the rabbit’s bitch face more comforting than scary and pictures the courtiers and servants living in the Imperial Palace cowering and begging Tu’er Ye to stop glaring at them, they swear they will never do it again.

Wang Wang and a-Ji are anxiously washing their noses, as they consider the political repercussions from the incident. Yes, Chang’e is the offended party and is allowed to be angry, but she cannot be too furious against the Highest Emperor or people will start whispering she’s forgetting her place, she’s too proud for an Immortal that doesn’t even care for living at court.

She will have to officially accept the Heavenly Grandfather’s apologies when he will send a messenger to the Fragrant Palace. But this isn’t for today, as everyone still needs to calm down – today is for relaxation.

So Chang’e locks herself in her bedroom in order to scream her lungs out in a pillow – a-Wu has confessed when Shen Yuan openly worried in front of her – then she dances for two shichen and goes to jump in the bath with her favourite perfumed oils. When she emerges, she smells like pear blossoms and she’s wearing her favourite gown, a white ruqun cinched at the waist by a heavy sash from the same cerulean shade than the gown’s collar and cuffs.

Her hair are covering her back with darkness and she looks striking.

« Now, Yuan’er » she declares, « we are going to enjoy ourselves. »

Enjoying themselves mean they play music together, a-Niang singing while he plays the xiao, then they rope the chambermaids and nanny and Hong’er into playing fantan, with a-Niang’s rings replacing money and Hong’er is completely useless when he tries to bet, that’s pitiful to look at the giant fleeced by three fluffy bunnies.

Shen Yuan laughs so much, he cannot even remember why they left the Imperial Palace.

Chapter Text

« So this is your last idiot, ready to depart for the West » Xiwangmu blithely mentioned as she threw a date right above the blue waters of the pond.

A silvery carp spotted with red and black jumped to swallow the fruit before diving in a loud splash, causing ripples and making the lotus blossoms shiver.

« Don’t call my pilgrims idiots, please » Guanyin mildly said, and the Queen Mother turned towards the boddhisattva and arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

« Excuse me, but drinking yourself stupid to the point you would smooch the wrong woman ? If that isn’t a textbook definition of abject stupidity, then the world has no meaning. »

The Merciful Goddess shrugged, conceding the point.

« Alright, this one is an idiot, the monkey is impulsive and the last is good for nothing unless you want someone to carry luggage, but that’s the point. If this Journey to the West was too easy, then it wouldn’t be a true pilgrimage. »

Because a pilgrimage was supposed to prepare the soul and mind to be blessed with enlightenment, and suffering tended to be quite the forge for indomitable souls. On the other hand, the Queen Mother reflected, it already was slated to be quite hard a travel indeed with all these demons spreading in the Mortal Realm, and that was why the monk that would receive the scriptures would be protected by three powerful beings – he would quickly get overpowered and devoured otherwise.

However, she didn’t tell that to Guanyin.

« Admit it, you just want to see your golden cicada of a monk screaming himself hoarse because his so-called disciples are driving him to the brink, maybe to the drink » she accused.

« Tang Sanzang is extremely devout and determined on upholding his vows as a monk » Guanyin fired back. « No matter how seductive the temptation, he will not deviate from his principles. »

Xiwangmu delicately took her cup, filled it with realgar wine and drank. The arsenic tickled the inside of his mouth and she happily sighed.

« That poor sucker » she lamented. « Ah well, that’s his own fault for refusing to consume alcohol if he’s unable to deal with the dunderheads you want to inflict upon him. »

The Divine Mother couldn’t understand why anyone would willingly abstain from drinking. Alright, mortals and in a lower proportion demons were unable to consume wine and beer and other spirits in truly enjoyable quantities without drawbacks such as death by dehydratation or a truly massive hangover, the poor dears – such a marvel it was, a godly physique, and she enjoyed it to the fullest.

« We are flawed, all of us » Guanyin acknowledged. « Be you a mortal or a demon or a beast or even a god… we are still so far from perfection. »

Xiwangmu would like to disagree, for she was the highest goddess from the Taoist pantheon, she who taught women and kings to tread the path to immortality, the embodiment of the yin principle. But the Merciful Goddess was a bodhisattva, one who strived for a very different king of awakening – she cursed herself to bring succour to living beings a very, very long time ago, and for every success she would have to exhaust herself.

Xiwangmu didn’t know if she admired Guanyin or if she was horrified by the Merciful Goddess’ self-imposed appointment as a merciful deity. Compassion – it was much more of a double-edged blade than mortals could ever imagine or even wish to believe.

Her pond shone silver under the sunlight, surrounded by trees covered by jewel-toned blossoms surrounded by jade-like leaves. It was beautiful – but she wouldn’t let her carefully tended garden to be less than splendor and perfection.

« … How fares Chang’e ? » Guanyin asked, her tanned fingers playing with her golden bracelet.

« She’s angry, of course. Why wouldn’t she be, after such an incident ? Even if he had politely asked her for a kiss, when he was wholly sober, she would have been offended. This girl is far too stubborn for her own good, I swear » the Divine Mother groused as she plucked a loquat from the fruit bowl and launched it in the air.

This time, no carp jumped to chomp on the treat, and the fruit was swallowed by the water itself.

« She’s in love. Such a mysterious thing, that » the Merciful Goddess commented. « We gods and other powerful beings can and will erase landmarks by lifting a finger, rewrite reality as we see fit and create something from nothing… yet we are unable to control love. Either it is there, or it is absent. And sometimes, it will chose someone and we won’t understand why such tenderness towards such an unworthy target. »

« Are you speaking from experience, Miaoshan ? »

This was a human name the Queen Mother was speaking, lacking the sheer power of a divine title, yet the nature surrounding the goddesses shivered as she uttered the bodhisattva’s former name – for Guanyin was powerful, but Guanyin wouldn’t have been without the hopelessly sweet, stubbornly compassionate Miaoshan.

The Merciful Goddess slowly blinked, as dazzled by sunlight.

« My father… he never understood why I couldn’t be the perfect princess like my older sisters were. Even when he fell sick and I gave my eyes and my arms for his medicine, he couldn’t understand why I would do this. How I could still love him, after everything. »

« Did you even try to explain yourself ? »

« Silly you, as if love was some factor to quantify and explain. You have to live it, in order to understand. »

Xiwangmu filled her cup with realgar wine again.

« You will have to excuse this venerable one, she never was very good about genuinely caring. Rather hard to do, when you are conceived as a plague deity. »

Guanyin eyeballed her with her most unimpressed expression.

« Someday, you will stop hiding yourself behind your origins and it will be great, because I’m getting tired from hearing it when you have been a mother goddess for so many millenias. »

« Leave this old biddy her measly comforts, she would go medieval on the Heavenly Officials’ collective ass otherwise » Xiwangmu argued. « I am old as fuck, and I really don’t care about becoming a bleeding heart that sobs over kittens sneezing, it’s far too undignified. »

« Since when are you dignified ? »

« Since I decided I could be. Will you stop making this frown at me, I am the embodiment of yin, of course I am unreliable ! »

Guanyin lifted the silver teapot and poured herself a cup that she immediately chugged as if it was alcohol and not a java plum-blueberry tea blend but she would never allow the Divine Mother to share her wine, what a waste for the bodhisattva.

« You know, you really wear on my nerves when you decide you want to an asshole » she mildly confessed.

« Shall I consider this an achievement, for the Universally Shining Great Light of Compassion to be almost fed up with my lowly self ? » Xiwangmu wondered.

The Merciful Goddess shrugged.

« If you wish so. »

She likely would. Yet at the same time, the Queen Mother felt happy she wasn’t able to fully annoy Guanyin into storming out of her gardens.

One wasn’t supposed to genuinely anger one’s friends, after all.

Chapter Text

A carriage filled with gifts and letters and surrounded by an armed escort soon comes to the Fragrant Palace, from the Highest Emperor and the three quarters of his court, be they generals or entertainers or scribes. But not servants because servants cannot be bothered with writing and buying gifts worthy of a Heavenly Official.

The carriage’s contents are intended to serve as apologies for the very unfortunate incident at the Autumn Harvest Festival. Shen Yuan’s mother barely cares about reading more than a few letters, she claims all of them follow the same example and tells Wei Wei to pulp them and make new paper with it, this way it will be useful at least.

« Milady ought to keep the ones written by His Majesty’s most important officials » Tu’er Ye tries to argue as his wife is busy gathering the letters in qiankun pouches to make her burden easier to carry. « Having someone to call in for a favour always is a good idea, and networking... »

« Does this goddess look like she cares about politicking ? » a-Niang snorts, and that’s the end of it.

Shen Yuan still gets to keep Nanny’s letter, since this isn’t an apology but a small note gleefully admitting the whole court is thoroughly shamed and hoping for swift forgiveness, with the Divine Mother thanking the Moon fairy for the gratuitous drama again. It sounds slightly insulting as it makes a-Niang look like a bratty pop idol that just can’t deal with her adoring fans, and Shen Yuan frowns.

In his former life, he intellectually knew idols and other people in the entertainment business tended to be highly scrutinized and generally considered as hopelessly immature from drinking and getting high, but that is not Chang’e at all, and the idea of people gossiping and refusing to acknowledge her reactions as justified – it’s not a very appealing one.

Yes, entertainers have a duty to give their everything in order to ensure their audience will enjoy their performance – looking at you Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, you completely got blinded by money and it utterly destroyed your novel’s worth as entertainment – but the fans are supposed to respect the entertainers’ efforts and private life, or it’s far too unequal a relationship.

For a relationship to be truly balanced, every party needs to give and take a bit. If one is always giving, like a parent or a teacher, then they become an authority figure and it’s not balanced anymore. If one is constantly taking, then you can call them a parasite – and Shen Yuan knows what he’s talking about, he belonged to this category in his former life, being so useless and sickly he couldn’t be anything else.

So he’s upset in his mother’s name, and idly considers sending Hong’er after the Heavenly Officials to terrify everyone into not talking shit about a sweet lady that really deserves a break from everyone’s abject Stupidity and yes, it deserves the capital letter. He’s pretty sure the pale bodyguard would enjoy the assignement too.

On the other hand, his dumb eight-year-old brain gets to see the gifts that Xiao Yi and his siblings are busy displaying and looking closer at in the courtyard, and it lets itself be distracted as a goldfish in its tank. Or maybe a magpie that glimpses something shiny ! Yes, definitely a more glorious simile if rather unflattering, because these fucking birds just won’t stop stealing your stuff and they’re big for birds, they can gouge your eye if you yell at them and they don’t like your attitude. Not cool, that !

A lot of the gifts are intended for a-Niang since she’s the wounded party, and people are appealing to her vanity by drowning her under beautiful silken dresses in a dizzying rainbow of colours – a-Xian sniffs and blatantly wonders if Heavenly Officials are blind for not noticing the Moon fairy won’t wear anything but white – heaps upon heaps of jewellery of gold and silver and jade – there Wang Wang absentmindedly checks for the metal purity and asks how many pieces milady wants to be melted and turned into ingots for the Fragrant Palace’s treasure, Chang’e concedes she will need a while for this one because she might like some designs even if she tends to wear very few jewels in her everyday life – paintings and wall scrolls and carpets about rabbits frolicking under the moonlight or gorgeous fairies enjoying a leisurely afternoon in perfectly tended gardens – the rabbits make a game of claiming such or such detail is familiar and since they are laughing so much, a-Niang tells them to keep the scenes they want, you can pack the others for the warehouse.

Hong’er is rather bemused when he’s presented several brand-new knifes and spears, because his stubborn devotion towards his lady and his swift intervention gained him a lot of fans in the Imperial Palace. A-Wu sniggers as she unwraps a full set of lamellar armour, complete with hood and shield cast in shimmering bronze.

« If they believe they can seduce him to their side, they’re barking the wrong tree » the bunny chambermaid claims while the poor giant reddens and splutters denials in front of his mistress’ gentle teasing about him having possibilities if he ever gets weary from the Fragrant Palace.

Shen Yuan too thinks it’s rather funny to watch – he’s not sure of what the pale bodyguard is actually feeling towards his own mother, be it the mere worship of a faithful devotee or something more intimate, but he knows enough to be sure Hong’er will never leave the Moon fairy’s service and that’s silly in a slightly cringe way to look at her and understand she cannot see it for the life of her.

Seriously, a-Niang, you’re quite oblivious to what is unfolding right beneath your nose, and this Shen Yuan is happy he didn’t inherit that from you. That’s just so embarrassing when you’re a spectator, surely it would be even worse to be an actor !

Finally, some courtiers had remembered Shen Yuan existed – what a shock since it was his second apparition at court and people forget you right after the first one because they needed to focus on the latest hot topic, but he supposes there are outliers everywhere – and sent him a mountain of toys like colourful balls and tiny bows, and a lot of sweets.

A-Ying immediately forbids him to taste the sweets when she learns of them, ruling that he will get to eat one at every meal or he’s going to fatten in spite of the physical activities his daily schedule involves.

« They are going to rot if I don’t eat them ! » Shen Yuan whines, making his eyes as wet as possible but a-Ying has a heart carved from the coldest stone.

« A-Yan and a-Li have a cold box in the kitchen. Surely Young Master remembers it ? By the way, it’s keyed to them, in order to avoid one of our siblings making a mess, you understand. »

Really, it shouldn’t be allowed for a bunny to be that mean, Tu’er Ye is nothing but a bad influence on his offspring.

Chapter Text

What does it mean to be a god ?

Following the fucking disaster that unfolded between the very walls of the Imperial Palace, all because Marshal Canopy forgot the elementary rules of deportment and good manners, Shen Yuan earnestly ponders the question.

Nanny already gave him some hints, no matter how cryptic and annoying – gods are intended to be a mirror in which mankind will look and behold its magnified essence, flaws and virtues akin. It’s a very interesting answer, but one cannot deny it will leave the humble seeker after truth slightly disappointed, since it means the Upper Realm isn’t that different from the Middle Kingdom after all.

Both worse and better, the Heavens will allow a god to do whatever they enjoyed in their former existence – a deity will be shunted on a singular path and forever defined by it, becoming more a creature of fiction and myth than a true flesh and blood being.

Seen this way, the process of ascension appears the tiniest bit eldritch – and fuck, wasn’t Cthulhu supposed to be some kind of deity, along with the other Great Old Ones ? Er-ge had been a fan of everything horror, so a pantheon of cosmic horrors driving hapless humans incurably insane by their sheer existence and living beyond normal space-time had very much appealed to him.

Still, the Cthulhu slippers had been cute, all plushy and velvety with fat, stubby green tentacles. Er-ge had been extremely vexed when meimei had praised them.

Anyway, the Great Old Ones as beings so unfathomable it would be insanity to even think about understanding their real nature – another way to envision godhood, if not the most reassuring or safe.

… Is the abrahamic god a Great Old One ? Seriously, meimei had read the Bible when she was stuck in her missionary phase, and when your messengers are depicted as burning wheels covered with eyeballs and need to tell people to not be afraid of them, one starts to feel suspicious about the kind of dude that would take these in his employ.

Alright, Shen Yuan supposes said abrahamic god really practises what he preaches, compassion and open-mindedness towards everyone, and why would he exclude terrifying winged masses of alien geometries and animal heads ? Good for him !

Shen Yuan can get the appeal, lifeforms can get really weird in extreme conditions – just borrow a submarine and dive deep in the oceans, you will have nightmares for weeks, even er-ge believed it was too much for him and he needed a lot of freakishness to be pushed out of his very, very large comfort zone.

Is that what it means to be a god ? To be turned into something wholly and utterly beyond your former self, to the point no one would ever think you have been human once, to the point you could barely acknowledge it yourself ?

It sounds like the radical metamorphosis that separates the caterpillar from the butterfly – is a butterfly liable to suffer identity crisises ? Maybe it’s a good thing for them to be barely sentient, or they would be nothing but prettily-coloured, flying wrecks as they struggle with all the implications of their life cycle.

Shen Yuan is already busy handling his own rebirth – well, he’s not handling it at all actually, he’s mired in denial and he’s extremely happy with this way of coping, otherwise he’s going to implode and turn into a blubbering, nihilist mess, does it even seem to be an acceptable outcome and if your answer is anything else but no then you’re a fucking sociopath, get away from him as soon as you can and never come back here please – he firmly rejects the eventuality of his very being suffering a symbolic demise, through him reinventing himself as someone he wouldn’t be able to peg as his reflection in a mirror.

What does it mean to be a god ? If this is to lose oneself, Shen Yuan frankly doubts about such a fate being one he would willingly submit.

Shen Yuan knows what kind of man he is, and this is a good-for-nothing layabout with far too critical a tongue, barely polite enough to live in a society since it would be tiresome otherwise to drag himself day after day with everyone pissed at his dumb ass. That’s not the most flattering description yet this is the one that fits him.

This is him. He can put a mask on, he can pretend he’s a perfect little gentleman, a sweet and naive baby god, but he knows very well who he truly is.

He doesn’t want to lose himself – he doesn’t want to forget the Shen Yuan who had two loving parents and two overbearing brothers and an energetic baby sister, the sickly shut-in who was reborn in the heavenly sphere because of a misfile.

What does it mean to be a god ? Is it to be an emotion suspended in time, like a blurred photograph, an insect trapped in amber ? Heaven is supposed to be perfect, after all. Why would one even wish to become something else, something different, after ascending ?

Well, he might have an answer to this – Shen Yuan still remembers the tale of Miaoshan, the princess who refused to marry because she wanted to spend her life helping people to free themselves from pain and suffering. The bodhisattva who was verging on joining the Upper Realm and ultimately stopped on the threshold as she heard someone crying for mercy.

Shen Yuan isn’t Guanyin – he’s a millenial brat through and through, he has burned all his compassion feeling sorry over his sickly self that wouldn’t live more than a quarter of century, he cannot even hope to mimic the Merciful Goddess and has no wish to do so anyway.

Yet he feels a bit curious, wondering if she truly has found the way to solve the riddle he’s chewing on. But maybe it only worked for her, maybe Shen Yuan will have to forge an answer of his own. He doesn’t know how he would ask her for advice – Nanny likely would have an inkling, but he cannot see the Queen Mother liking the bodhisattva since she’s far too much of a troll and happy to be a ruler whose any whim will be obeyed.

She Who Perceives All the World’s Lamentations seems fated to stay shrouded in mystery, and Shen Yuan seems fated to pick his brain on his own. That’s fine, he never liked asking for help – his health was far too heavy a toll already, one cannot demand too much beyond the usual allotment. So he will think, and he will wonder, and he will ponder.

What does it mean to be a god ?

Chapter Text

« Why is the Young Master so hurried to grow up ? » a-Ying openly ponders as she watches Shen Yuan pouting at the wall on which several marks have been carved to follow his height as it slowly shoots towards the sky, so slowly that he kinda wants to rip his hair.

He looks at her and she eyeballs him back – her whiskers not even quivering, so she’s truly and genuinely puzzled by his behaviour, and since a-Ying is tasked with caring for his stupid ass, he cannot very well leave her to fret on her own. She’s far too cute and fluffy to lose hair from worrying over her ungrateful Young Master.

« Tell me, a-Ying » he fires back, « what can I possibly do with such a body ? »

« You can make your esteemed mother happy by studying hard and cuddling her » the bunny nanny immediately answers, « you can run amok in the Imperial Palace and people won’t dare to do more than mildly scold you, and you can plead your lack of life experience when you have made a mistake. These are but three examples, and this lowly one is willing and able to give you more if asked. »

… The worst thing, she’s not actually wrong. Shen Yuan can and does relish these privileges, he’s a cute little thing pampered and cosseted so much it should be illegal and he will milk the shit out of this because Papa Shen taught his children to never let an opportunity slip away, but on the other hand…

On the other hand, Shen Yuan remembers being twenty-one years old. He remembers having his own flat in spite of his siblings and parents constantly calling and visiting for one reason or another – obviously they wondered if he finally had dropped dead every time he forgot to tell them he still was alive, and now he cannot help but dread the image of them finding his corpse, please not meimei, mama and da-ge would be pretty bad too but please not meimei – he remembers doing his own grocery runs, he remembers having the paperwork for when he wanted to leave Beijing and wander in the countryside or taking a flight for Japan or Thailand.

Shen Yuan ultimately never left China – he never left Beijing, far too sickly for this, what if a virus decided he was the perfect target, what if he ate something that refused to agree with his intestines and stomach ruined by allergies, what if he fainted because the travel was far too taxing on his useless body.

Shen Yuan never truly got to enjoy the freedom da-ge and er-ge had, the freedom to go anywhere, to do whatever they wanted because they had the money and they were healthy, and one day meimei would enjoy this too. All of his siblings would be free, while he would trapped by his own body then by his grave.

He was fine with it, really. Shit happens, and if someone in the Shen family had to die in their prime, then better for Shen Yuan to take the fall than his siblings – even with a fully-functional heart, Shen Yuan was too hopelessly lazy and demotivated to become a productive member of society, at least it would weed the unfitting candidate out.

He just… sometimes it would chafe at him, when he was lying alone in his bed and tried to fall asleep, and his thoughts focused on everything he wouldn’t get to do or see. How is that different from being a child, forever kept within his mother’s skirts, forever coddled because he couldn’t handle the world without harming himself ?

Then he died, and this Underworld clerk had utterly fumbled his reincarnation, and Shen Yuan had been reborn as a godling – the very top of the food chain.

He couldn’t get sick, and he couldn’t get injured, and he had eternity in front of him, and there are three realms for him to explore, filled with weird creatures and priceless treasures and quirky people and Shen Yuan wants all of this .

He wants to go everywhere, he wants to meet everyone he can, he wants to see everything there is to see, he wants to taste every dish cooked according all these traditional and new recipes everywhere in the world, he wants to lose his shit over every weird critter Nature decided to create on a lark, he wants…

He wants to try everything .

And he won’t get to do that as long as he’s only a small kid, his mother and Hong’er and the rabbits constantly hovering over his shoulder because he could trip and chip his nail if left alone more than two seconds, oh the horror.

Shen Yuan does love everyone in the Fragrant Palace, how could he not after spending so much time with them and getting to know them, but he already lost a lifetime to illness. He doesn’t want to waste centuries growing up enough to be deemed able to visit the Mortal Realm without a chaperone, a bit less than a quarter of a century was so long !

But he cannot explain that to a-Niang. She’s a goddess, her appreciation of time is irremediably skewed, and she’s his mother in this new life so she’s bound to be overprotective and that’s without taking the traumatizing circumstances in which she was left a widow in account.

But this isn’t a-Niang in front of him, this is a-Ying looking at her Young Master with a small frown, her ears drooping as she obviously worries.

« … Guess I am frustrated » Shen Yuan finally manages to say. « You rabbits, you need barely two weeks to become fully mature and be trusted with responsabilities, and I am lagging behind all of you. »

The dark-furred bunny softly sighs.

« Well, this isn’t like Young Master can do more than complain regarding the matter. Still, you will grow up one day, you’re merely doing it at your own pace. »

« You already told me that » Shen Yuan points, more annoyed than soothed by her reassurance.

« And I shall tell you again and again, as many times as you need to hear it » a-Ying promises him. « I am Young Master’s nursemaid, don’t you forget it. »

« And when I won’t need you anymore ? » Shen Yuan cannot help but ask. « I don’t mean, you’re not unwanted but one day I will have to be by myself. Do you see an accomplished gentleman having a nursemaid ? »

« A true gentleman has advisors » a-Ying shamelessly claims. « Surely Young Master won’t be opposed to this lowly one reminding him of his foibles when needed ? »

There’s one thing that’s terrible about nannies, Shen Yuan muses, and this is the inability to have the last say when you’re arguing, no matter your age.

Chapter Text

It’s a funny thing, loneliness. Well, it’s funny when one doesn’t suffer from it – Shen Yuan is long acquainted with the feeling and he cannot remember when he decided he didn’t care for it, but it was quite early in his first life as he’s unable to recall a specific memory devoid of this cold, dark, and most of all aching sensation deep down in his bones.

It’s funny because Shen Yuan was constantly surrounded by people in both his previous and current lives, his siblings and parents and the staff at the hospital and the servants when he was human, his mother and the rabbits and Hong’er and Nanny now that he’s a god, yet he cannot help having loneliness carved in each cell that makes his body.

He thinks there is a very good reason for this, and that’s because he’s wrong. No matter what, both human and god, Shen Yuan doesn’t fit – a cuckoo trying to pass for a cute little sparrow in spite of being a bloated, gluttonous mess.

In his previous life, Shen Yuan was sickly. Mainly, it was his heart causing him misery but the many allergies didn’t help on the health front. Everyone knew he couldn’t do anything on his own, everyone kept him at arm’s length for his own sake, everyone just kept looking at him with pity because he wouldn’t live that long anyway.

Everyone meant well, handling him as they did, and Shen Yuan intellectually understands and even appreciates it. He nonetheless remembers how it felt to be sidelined, doomed to sit on a chair or stay abed while the world just kept turning.

How did it go, in that piece of poetry da-ge heard in France ? Something written by Victor Hugo… Je m’en irais bientôt, au milieu de la fête, sans que rien manque au monde, immense et radieux. Soon I will leave, in the middle of the party, and nothing will be missed by the world, so big and radiant. Likely not the best translation ever, but Shen Yuan is more gifted in the art of verbally tearing literature to pieces, you will have to forgive him.

Still, the idea of the world keeping on going as it always did, not even stopping with your untimely demise, is one he had to come to terms in his late childhood when he finally understood what death truly meant. This kind of idea fills him with a terrible silence in shades of inky blacks, and he would cry if he could.

Shen Yuan doesn’t cry. It’s so quiet when one is lonely, what would be the point ? People cry because they want someone to come and coo nonsense at them and wipe their tears off, but no one will ever hear you when you’re alone. It’s just something he knows, an awful knowledge nestled in his chest near his malformed heart, born unfinished and twisted further by several surgeries to delay its failure.

No one will come for you, and even if they did, would that be a guarantee that they will hear what you are trying to tell them ? When you struggle to explain yourself and your feelings, there is the words you’re thinking, the words you’re actually saying, and the words the people in front of you will understand. Far too many steps allowing for miscommunication, and it’s tiring.

Far too many times, people would speak with Shen Yuan but they wouldn’t hear him, so Shen Yuan decided it was easier to be entirely and wholly silent. He would die soon anyway, wasn’t it good practice ? Dead people have no voice anymore, after all.

Well, it seems he was wrong about that, since he died only to reincarnate. But on the other hand, him keeping a voice doesn’t mean he’s free to use it.

Because Shen Yuan isn’t sickly anymore, but he’s a reborn soul – someone far too big for his own body, his flesh almost tearing at the seams from his sheer frustration and resentment as he remembers he used to be taller, more independent, allowed to be more than a child.

A-niang means well, but she doesn’t know anything about her precious baby’s true nature and Shen Yuan cannot bring himself to tell her. She wouldn’t take it well, learning the child she wanted to have was replaced in her womb by someone that will never be fully hers, and Shen Yuan remembers how painful it is to live with a ruined heart failing to properly beat in your chest, how could he force the woman who gave him birth in this new life to suffer such a fate ?

Shen Yuan is used to pain and loneliness after a lifetime filled with these, he can withstand the cold, hungry emptiness again. He wouldn’t wish for someone else to be dragged inside the dark, especially not someone that never did anything to deserve it. Especially not someone that would wither and fade away from the exposure.

Having Hong’er and a-Ying in the know… it doesn’t help as much as one would expect. Yes, they have reassured him that they still care, that he’s allowed to be a mess over this fucking misfile, but obviously they would say that, they are supposed to serve him. And they love him as a god – they never even met the human Shen Yuan.

Maybe Hong’er would empathize if Shen Yuan tried to compare his own rebirth with the giant bodyguard having endured a Pokemon evolution from a measly fish into a mighty soldier of Heaven – yet this isn’t the same. Hong’er wanted to change himself, while Shen Yuan wasn’t given a choice at all in becoming a god.

He really shouldn’t complain, not when Fate has spoiled him to such a point it becomes almost scandalous, but it won’t chase the gaping emptiness burning him in coldness away. Shen Yuan has achieved godhood, he has power and influence at his fingertips and he still feels as lonely as when he was stuck in his hospital bed, looking at the clock and waiting for one of his siblings to visit.

Maybe he’s cursed to carry this loneliness in every single rebirth he will ever know. Wouldn’t it be funny ? Well, he’s saying funny but he doesn’t feel the urge to laugh, more the need to lie down and never move again because he’s far too exhausted to deal with such bullshit.

He’s so tired, he doesn’t think he would manage to cry if he wanted to tear up and make a scene. He’s just… empty.

He’s empty and he doesn’t believe it will get better soon. Maybe in the far future – but he’s not holding his breath and waiting for a miracle.

Even for a god, miracles won’t happen unless you work for it.

Chapter Text

It actually wasn’t that uncommon on the Cang Qiong mountain sect to find a disciple staying up and active past their intended bedtime. Their range of reasons for doing so went from frantic try to complete an essay before the deadline to sheer passion making them forget the time, to mindless determination bent on yielding more results through a surpluse of work. The Immortal masters tended to ignore such behaviour as long as the students understood well enough to not disturb their martial siblings and to accept the consequences if they couldn’t deal with stress and fatigue.

Luo Binghe currently was busy trying and failing to practise his swordsmanship without tripping too much or dropping his training wooden blade, painfully aware that nighttime was the only timeslot for him to study without his so-called martial brothers chasing him away from classrooms, piling their domestic chores upon him and trashing the results to force him into redoing it all again, or disturbing his focus with jeerings and loathsome whispers.

The unrelenting bullying was already bad, but it was made so much worse by Shizun’s obvious disappointment in Binghe, calling him clumsy and worthless and blatantly wondering why the boy hoped to cultivate Immortality when he obviously would be better suited to be nothing but a wretched slave.

Compared to Shizun’s scornful, sneering fury, being whipped was almost a blessing. At least the bruises and cuts would fade with time and medicines, but the cutting, harsh words would pursue Binghe in his dreams and drove him to wake up sobbing.

Yet another reason to practise at night. As he reduced his time for rest and physically exhausted himself until he could barely walk back to the woodshed, he was so tired that he would drop on the dusty straw mattress and sleep like the dead in a ditch, sinking into dark, deep waters without any hint of a dream fluttering near him.

If Luo Binghe was so tired he could barely walk straight, he wouldn’t have the energy to cry when he was belittled – something that only caused his bullies joy and infuriated Shizun who always slapped him thrice for every tear he would let escape – and he wouldn’t have the energy to fight back – something that only caused his bullies to hit him harder and find new ways to ruin his work.

He wondered what his mother would say if she could see him. Maybe she would be impressed by the fact that he managed to join a cultivation sect to begin with, no matter if he struggled and couldn’t do any progress on a significant level ? His niang had never asked a lot of things to be happy with her life – she didn’t have money and her health was bad and people would sneer at her for being so old and unable to keep a good job or a man to care for her, and still she would smile because she had Binghe.

She had Binghe and she never asked for more, because he had been everything she wanted, someone she could love with her whole heart and forever, and wasn’t that the blessing that anyone would covet ? Even the gods in the Upper Realm wanted for someone to love them.

This way she would know of his love for her, and how he would keep loving none but her… Separation wasn’t enough for them to stop loving each other.

There was a reason why the tale of the fearsome sun-slayer and the Moon fairy was so popular, even if it ended in tragedy with Houyi ultimately moving on in the Underworld and Chang’e being left behind – everyone wanted for this special person that would love them to the Heavens and back.

Binghe still hadn’t found his fated person, but he would keep hoping and holding on, surely they were waiting for him somewhere ! Lately, he had started wondering if this special person might be closer than he believed, since Ning-shijie’s laugh was enough for him to feel his stomach twisting in fluttery knots and his nape blushing with the strength of a white-hot furnace for high-quality steel. Maybe it was her, maybe she was the one…

While Binghe was struggling to focus on his footwork and not on remembering how sweet Ning-shijie’s perfume smelled, he noticed something very weird about the sky. Was that a shooting star, right above his head ?

Except that shooting stars wouldn’t grow closer and closer and it was burning bright, a deep blue glow and it came so quickly and maybe he should run and yell for Shizun because it seemed it was on a collision run with the Qing Jing Peak oh shite…

Binghe had barely started running when the whole mountain shook under the impact, his ears brutally popping with the powerful sound and white exploding behind his eyelids.

How long did he stay kneeling on the ground, hiccuping and his heartbeat rabbit-quick in his throat ? Maybe it was a fên and maybe it was a shichen, Binghe didn’t know and he didn’t care, busy as he was panicking since the blue glow was right there in the bamboo forest, it didn’t land in his practise meadow but it couldn’t be that far either.

That could be your chance , the thought suddenly rang high and clear in his barely coherent mind, how impressed Shizun would be, how awed Ning-shijie and the other disciples would be, if you brought them a fallen star back ? Surely it won’t amount to nothing.

He slowly rose to his feet and went towards the bright, bright glow, his lips twitching as they wanted to pull themselves in an excited grin, as he pictured everyone from the Qing Jing Peak around him and expressing admiration as he proudly held the star in his hands – what would it look like, by the way ? Something like a huge, glowing pearl ? It would have to be very precious a material, for a fallen star would have originated in the Heavens and the Upper Realm cared for nothing that couldn’t achieve the utmost purity and refinement.

Then Binghe found the impact scene, and he gaped.

The fallen star – lying there in the disturbed dirt and gently glowing with a soft blue light, their limbs helplessly splayed around them, pure-white hair fanning around their head as a snowy river and their face utterly relaxed and expressionless as if they were only sleeping…

The fallen star – was person-shaped, and they were the most beautiful being Binghe had ever been allowed to gaze upon, even more beautiful than Shizun and the Qing Jing Peak Lord was an Immortal Master, someone on the road to Ascension !

Binghe outright hiccuped as he realized something. As he remembered what kind of beings would live in the Heavens.

Did a Heavenly Official fall on the mountain ? Because there couldn’t be another explanation, not when Binghe could behold such beauty, not when the world around them seemingly had stopped breathing to not disturb the fallen star’s slumber, not when he suddenly felt more at peace than he had been since his mother had passed away.

Binghe wanted to stay there, barely able to think, and look at the deity as long as he could, but… but he couldn’t very well allow a Heavenly Official to wallow in the mud, could he ? He swallowed.

Shizun wouldn’t be happy with Binghe disturbing his rest, he actually would be tremendously unhappy, but he couldn’t punish the clumsy, hopeless disciple for bringing him such news.

Welcoming a Heavenly Official took priority over beating your student silly. At least, Binghe hoped so.

Chapter Text

When the Highest Emperor finds courage enough to summon the Moon fairy at court for the third time, Shen Yuan has finally reached his teens – he’s not sure about how old he’s supposed to physically be, godhood tends to murk the waters because of weird growth patterns, but he certainly doesn’t complain about finally being tall enough for being able to hold the rabbits on his lap than look at them in the eye.

Hong’er still keeps picking him and carrying him as he would a doll, but Hong’er is a fucking giant so cut him some slack. Also, he claims having suffered deafness every time Shen Yuan wants to tell him to stop, and he ought to be ashamed about lying so brazenly.

After sloughing his baby fat off – and he relishes the loss of his chubby cheeks, alright it was cute if you like the overfed squirrel chic but he certainly didn’t – Shen Yuan is now blessed with a lean, willowy body that hides carefully trained muscles under silken robes, courtesy of years upon years practising dancing and archery and charioteering – well, he’s much more gifted in the first and second than the third discipline, the horses tolerate him but he cannot help being nervous when he’s driving, if given the choice he will be quite happy to stay a passenger – and a face spared by the dreadful curse of pus-filled zits.

In his current life, Shen Yuan still can discern features that belonged to his human body when he looks in a mirror, but he won’t deny he bears more than a little resemblance to Chang’e. Of course he would, she’s a-Niang, but he nonetheless feels butterflies fluttering in his belly when he thinks about it so he does his best to lock this thought deep inside a chest and lose the key within his most faded memories, mostly they’re about sad things like this time when he managed to burn wontons – he was lamenting over his mathematic lessons with a-Yan and a-Li commiserating and he forgot they were cooking dinner, when he remembered all the broth had vanished and the dumplings had turned to charcoal, yuk. Still, a-Yan's look of utter betrayal when she beheld the disaster was worse than the stink.

On her side, a-Niang sometimes looks at him with a faraway gaze and comments on the fact that he has grown so much, and she will bite the slightest inch on her lips and Shen Yuan understands very well she would like for someone else to be there, Mama Shen loved to put da-ge and er-ge and Papa Shen side by side and sigh over every single detail they shared between them.

Shen Yuan still doesn’t know what he is supposed to feel about the man he never met in his current life in spite of having being sired by him, and he’s almost old enough for his guan li ceremony – at least, he feels old enough for the ceremony, do you take previous lives in account when trying to evaluate maturity ?

Well, compared to Nanny, he’s pretty sure he will always amount to a snot-nosed brat. The Queen Mother of the West has expressed eagerness at the prospect to witness him in his youthful magnificence, and he immediately burned this letter after reading because he really wanted to avoid a-Niang stumbling upon it and siccing Hong’er after the Divine Mother for commenting on Shen Yuan’s physical appeal.

Shen Yuan – will acknowledge he’s far from being ugly. But he also knows people are not interested in poor little him for his face, they merely are curious because they don’t live with him and as a consequence cannot see him grow up and change with the years. The Fragrant Palace’s staunch isolation doesn’t help on this front, since everyone wants to visit the place forbidden to access out of sheer spite, and that implies meeting people that would rather stay away from palace drama.

As there is no way for the Moon fairy to politely decline the summoning – it’s been a long time since the unforgettable incident and the Imperial Palace just wouldn’t stop apologizing over it, keeping a grudge would be seen as immature and ill-mannered at this point – the Heavenly Officials will have their way and ogle Shen Yuan. Hopefully they will decide he’s too boring for their tastes and leave him alone, he’s not interested in being sociable when he needs to plan how to best tell a-Niang that he would like to take a sabbatical and see more of the Upper Realm than palaces, surely the countryside is nice too !

If she agrees, then she will be open to consider the possibility of him visiting Earth one day – when one wishes to boil a frog, one won’t drop it in a pot of hot water or it will frantically try to clamber out. It’s best to turn the heat on low and let the frog peacefully float until it cooks to death, and it’s rather a gruesome metaphor that completely fails to predict a genuine frog’s behaviour but it nonetheless works to illustrate the slippery slope.

Papa Shen was fond of calling the tactic the foot-in-the-door technique – the customer will agree to a large request after being softened by a small one because people feel obligated to stay consistent, force them to deviate from their chosen trajectory or habits and they will feel thoroughly awkward.

No need to look further than their retinue to serve as the perfect example – for their third summoning, Xiao Yi managed to break his foot as he was bringing Nanny’s latest missive and won’t have healed in time for coming with them, so he picked one of his younger sisters to replace him.

Lingling belongs to the newest generation to be born between the Fragrant Palace’s walls, barely a few months ago because Tu’er Ye is bent on flooding the Upper Realm with his progeny or doesn’t believe in contraception as something he might look into. Her youth means she’s rather enthusiastic about attending the Moon fairy and the Young Master, but internally fretting about not being good enough and failing them in such a spectacular way, the Heavens will talk about it for a kalpa.

Shen Yuan allows her to sit on her lap for the whole travel to the Imperial Palace, petting her drooping ears as she blissfully drools on his jacket’s front panels. Sitting on the other side of the carriage, a-Ying is glaring at her younger sister with such resentment, ghosts would have appeared in numbers fit for a full-blown invasion if she had been a necromancer.

Sibling rivalry is already pretty funny when you’re not an active participant, but it becomes hilarious when it happens with fluffy bunnies. Shen Yuan mentally notes he will need to speak with a-Ying about the fact she’s supposed to be the older one, try and be responsible, won’t you ? Your baby sis is less experimented than you, of course she will need reassurance.

Being annoyed over your sibling being stressed, that’s just mean.

Chapter Text

When his mother’s handmaidens have finished dressing Shen Yuan for the evening, Hong’er openly stares at him for such a long time the transmigrated soul feels sweat beading under his clothes. Has he forgotten to clean his teeth ? Or maybe it’s the dark blue colour that doesn’t suit him – he fucking knew it, every time he wanted to look nice in his previous life people were looking at him and behaving weirdly, now the song and dance are going to start again in this new existence ! So fucking unfair, he’s doomed to be set apart no matter his efforts to seem slightly alright !

« … Maybe Young Master ought to wear a veil » the giant bodyguard ultimately suggests, his voice wavering and his features shaking the tiniest bit as if he has been slapped with an overweight whale over the head and needs time to recover his full wits.

A-niang also swallows, and Shen Yuan just wants to cry – his own mother believes he looks too foolish for her to show off in front of the Highest Emperor and his cronies ! Well, Shen Yuan doesn’t really want to be shown off, he knows how it goes in palace dramas and even in the Upper Realm, it’s nasty happenings all around, but it nonetheless stinks for the woman that bore you almost a whole year in her flesh to be that critical !

And no, Shen Yuan isn’t hypocritical, he sneered at hack authors that fully deserved his scorn and whom he would never meet in real life because he was far too sickly to drag his pitiful ass away from his apartment or the hospital. You see ? Not the same at all !

At the end, he attends the feast with his face hidden behind a delicately embroidered veil – black silk with silver and bluish flecks, very pretty and à propos since it basically mimics the night sky – painfully aware of the many, many gazes levelled at him while his mother is dancing. Fucking seriously, won’t you even respect a-Niang’s choregraphy by watching it ? She puts everything she is in her dancing, you assholes, at least grant her a modicum of awe for her efforts ! And she’s a far more enjoyable sight than her pitiful brat who hides his face because he just would look stupid otherwise !

When she finally stops, after the usual praise given by the Highest Emperor, the Queen Mother of the West gently puts her green-glazed cup on her low table and speaks out loud :

« It’s been a long time since this Moon fairy has first entertained the Upper Realm, wouldn’t you say, my dear ? »

Chang’e keeps her head demurely bowed, her eyelids firmly shut together.

« If my Queen is saying so » she whispers, and her quiet voice can be heard by everyone gathered in the great hall.

A shadow of a predatory smile threatens to come alive on the Queen Mother’s face.

« You have grown much and well, my dear. And this venerable one is happy to see your beloved child following into your footsteps. »

And just like that, the Heavenly Officials aren’t interested in the Moon fairy anymore, turning their heads to blatantly gawp at Shen Yuan since the very embodiment of the yin principle has blatantly mentioned him – damn you to the Eighteen Hells, Nanny, he internally shrieks, I know you’re doing that because you get bored and wish to whip your courtiers in a frenzy like a mob of headless chicken about to be served for Christmas Eve !

There’s nothing but contented smugness in her poisonous green eyes, and he very much imagines his hands around her throat, squeezing as much as he can – he likely won’t manage to kill her, Xiwangmu is playing in a league far beyond his, but it’s a quite nice image and he will hold it dear to his heart.

Besides him, poor a-Ying is quivering and shivering, obviously uneasy with such attention paid to her master – rabbits as a rule have evolved to run and hide when they suspect anyone higher than their species on the food chain have taken notice of their wretched selves, but of course she cannot do that in front of the Highest Emperor and his retinue. Now she’s going to be a mess for three or five days, as long as it takes for her frayed nerves to settle, and that’s just mean to bully a sweet little bunny this way.

Yet another reason for Shen Yuan to fantasize about strangling Nanny. As he idly entertains bloodthirsty daydreams, he kowtows – because the Queen Mother has spoken, and he needs to answer as a loyal, meek courtier must.

« Your Majesty grants much honour to this lowly one » he declares, and he believes it – now, that would be easier to suffer if he actually wanted the honour to be acknowledged by the most important and dangerous goddess in the whole Taoist pantheon, but he doesn’t and here lies the problem.

He hears the smile in Nanny’s voice when she speaks again.

« Far too humble you are, youngling. We shall talk further on the morrow, for now we have a feast to enjoy, and that would be unseemly for this venerable one to prevent her faithful companions to unwind. »

And that’s it. A-niang quickly goes to join Shen Yuan at their assignated place for the supper, followed by the buzzing noise of a hundred whispers that surround mother and son like a greedy swarm would do, waiting the right opening to fall upon them and sting their flesh until their untimely demise.

Chang’e is also glowing – a faint bluish glow beneath her flawless jade complexion, the only hint of the ungodly wrath she’s currently repressing the heck out, and Shen Yuan doesn’t need to be a mind-reader to guess how much she wants to re-do the scene from last time they came in front of the throne, when they stormed out of the Imperial Palace.

Unfortunately, there is no lustful pig willing and able to take the fall for the Moon fairy’s bad mood – indeed, it’s supposed to be a very coveted honour for the Queen Mother to summon you to her side, so they cannot expect sympathy on this front.

Shen Yuan openly grimaces under his veil, softly petting a-Ying’s droopy ears to comfort her. On the other hand, he might be able to salvage this whole disaster – well, for him, he’s unsure about a-Niang approving the plan forming in his head.

See, he remembers the Jade Mountain is linked to the Kunlun Mountains on the Middle Realm. Surely there will be passages between these two places ? And Shen Yuan has no desire to use these passages anyway, he only wishes to confirm their existence.

He’s almost a grown up in this current life, soon he will be allowed to go anywhere he wants. And he really wants to learn how to safely travel between realms, as long as he’s doing it in Nanny’s domain, he should be alright.

At the worst, he will have to scream for her help, and she will hold this over his head for centuries – literally – but that won’t go further.

Really, it’s going to be okay.

Chapter Text

« Surely my cute little student is aware this venerable one can feel when one is intent on seeing her die ? » Xiwangmu casually asks, her tone light as if she’s discussing the weather or her new nail polish. « She wouldn’t have risen to her exalted throne and title if she had been a smidge less mistrusting. »

Shen Yuan doesn’t smile – he bares his teeth. This is a facial expression one quickly learns when facing the Queen Mother of the West.

« Nanny ought to rest assured, this lowly one wouldn’t dare to wish for her demise » he claims, and Lingling – she’s replacing a-Ying who’s sleeping her nerves from yesterday and for a newbie to the Imperial Palace, she’s doing rather well – twitches as her sensitive ears detect the carefully studied cheerfulness in his voice.

No, he’s not dreaming about her demise, he merely wishes for her suffering and possibly her humiliation. Exact wording, the sleazy businessman’s best friend, and now his !

Nanny’s grin grows bigger as she plucks a loquat in her blue-white porcelain bowl and throws it to the pheasants lurking around the small pavilion in which the deities are seated.

« Wielding your words with such restrained malevolence, how lovely » she giggles, she dares to giggle like a mundane schoolgirl pining after her celebrity crush. « Truly, a-Yuan has grown up well and is making his mother proud. How fares she, by the way ? Still bent on burying herself in the countryside ? »

Shen Yuan snorts. There is one answer to this line of inquiry, and the eons-old goddess already knows it – Chang’e has refused to change her mind on the matter since she ascended to the Upper Realm, and Heavenly Officials as a rule are trapped by their own decisions, moreso the ones taken when they still were new to godhood.

« The rustic life isn’t lacking charm » he idly comments. « Your Majesty should try it, one day. »

The handmaiden busy playing the guqin in order to create a suitably relaxing atmosphere for the playdate chokes on her saliva, while her friend in the nine-coloured gown openly cackles. Even the tanned warrioress smirks in amusement, and alright, it was a long shot but come on , Xiwangmu alone in a leisure house, without poor victims to mercilessly troll ?

Shen Yuan would dare to call that a well-deserved fate, according karmic retribution as decided by higher powers with nothing better to do but judging everything and everyone like a bunch of very dedicated Internet gremlins.

« No thank you » Xiwangmu decides, still grinning. « Maybe when I was younger and more used to wrestle Divine Beasts instead of being diplomatic… but this venerable one has grown since these days of her youth. »

Her tone is verging on melancholic now, and her musician attendant – who regained her composure – is playing much more softly, feeling her mistress’ mood drop.

« We all need to grow. Beast or mortal or demon or god… for everyone comes a day that changes everything. »

The Queen Mother is staring some point in the faraway distance, having lost focus on the current conversation, and Shen Yuan cannot bring himself to remind her of her existence. Sometimes, the goddess will let herself be lost in memories and philosophy, and even screaming in her ear has no effect but to force a pained expression to briefly flitter on her face. When she’s thinking, Xiwangmu doesn’t look like the highest female deity in the Taoist pantheon, she who teaches Emperors and Immortals how to rise above the common masses.

She merely looks her age – impossibly old in spite of her unlined features and jaded and so utterly exhausted and small.

After a while, maybe it was one hour or maybe it was a minute, Xiwangmu remembers she has a guest and her poisonous green eyes turn towards Shen Yuan again, shining like a witch’s brew in her inky black cauldron.

« How old are you, already ? »

He frowns. In spite of Wang Wang and Xiao Lan’s merciless determination when it comes to drilling mathematics in his poor, much abused brain, Shen Yuan nonetheless is wobbly on the matter of calculations and how to convert data in numbers, especially when it involves the very fluid timeline of the Heavens.

He decides to trust his gut at the end.

« This humble servant should be almost sixteen years old, now » he confesses.

Of course, he’s talking of his physical age. He’s unsure about having the right to use his mental age, because he doesn’t feel that different from the day his heart finally threw the towel ? It’s weird to live in the Upper Realm, in which one’s physical maturation is wacky and one’s mental maturation seems to completely stop in its tracks.

Xiwangmu sighs – a long exhalation coming from the very depths of her lungs – and closes her eyes.

« Yes… yes, it was the right age, wasn’t it ? Well, nothing to do about that, I suppose. »

She waves her hand, and a jewel-toned songbird shrieks in a fragrant plum tree covered with delicate blossoms shivering in the inexistent breeze.

« This venerable one would like some peace and quiet for a while. Shen Yuan is allowed to wander through my gardens… as long as he doesn’t disturb my plants or the beasts living there. Then he would enjoy my displeasure. »

Shen Yuan bows. That’s a rather abrupt dismissal, but he acutely remembers how much it sucks to suddenly feel faint, your blood pressure dropping without any warning or your head splitting in halves or your dinner fleeing your stomach by your mouth, so he’s not going to criticize Nanny if she wants a nap.

Also, she just granted him the opportunity to explore the Jade Mountain – and since Shen Yuan is accompanied by Lingling, he can genuinely explore the Queen Mother’s domain instead of staying on the path, as his usual watcher a-Ying would insist to do.

Now, Shen Yuan does care for a-Ying – he cannot see himself not loving her, not after all these years she spent doting on him, a lifetime for both of them – but he won’t be blind to the fact she likes following the rules laid by a-Niang, and she refuses to disobey even when her precious Young Master is begging her with his best puppy eyes.

On the other hand, Lingling is groomed as a messenger, so she was encouraged to be curious about her surroundings – but not too much, she’s still a bunny and quite the tasty meal for the Divine Beasts roaming the Upper Realm – and as such is the perfect accomplice for Shen Yuan’s little expedition.

It’s going to be perfect.

Chapter Text

« Young Master ! Young Master ! What are we seeking, exactly ? »

Lingling really is a sweet little fluffy black-furred soft toy, with twitching ears and a pink nose and deep red eyes, always darting back and fro on the path and beneath the bushes and the trees while Shen Yuan is leisurely strolling through the Queen Mother’s gardens.

She’s so very young, barely five weeks old to her siblings’ years, and it shows in her demeanour, her endless energy. Shen Yuan wants to gather her in her arms and kiss her forehead senseless until she squeals for him to let go.

(meimei would have loved her, so tiny and cute)

« We are seeking for passages between the worlds » Shen Yuan grandly reminds her – he told her what he wants to find when they left the Queen Mother under her pavilion with her handmaidens, but hindsight points at Lingling being too excited by the trees and the birds and the weirdly-shaped rocks to actually listen to him.

The dark-furred bunny sniffs, her pink nose thoroughly scrunched.

« Lingling doesn’t remember your lady mother being alright with coming at court » she points. « Why would she agree for the Young Master to go even further than the Imperial Palace ? »

« Because I am not using these passages right now, I just wish to find them. See ? That’s not the same at all » Shen Yuan reassures her.

The bunny keeps her nose scrunched as she obviously ponders this information, and Shen Yuan really hopes she won’t scamper in order to alert someone of his intent.

« Well » she ultimately concludes, « Lingling supposes it is alright… so long Young Master isn’t going down to explore the Lower Realm. Lingling heard it stinks there. »

« I wouldn’t know, I never read anything about the Demon Realm beyond the broadest strokes regarding its inhabitants’ disorderly nature » Shen Yuan confesses, and Lingling shudders.

The fluffy rabbit isn’t a Heavenly Official, but she was born and raised in the Upper Realm, it makes sense for her to instinctively avoid anything related to the Lower Realm – godlings and demonkind go together as well as chalk and cheese.

Still, her curiosity isn’t sated, and she stumbles upon a very good question.

« What does it look like ? The passage Young Master wants to find. Is that a hole, or is that a gate, or is the air shimmering golden ? »

Shen Yuan actually pouts.

« Aiyah, why are you asking me that ? »

« Young Master doesn’t know ? Baba would be very disappointed in Lingling if she was seeking for something she lost and couldn’t describe it. »

The transmigrated soul shivers as he pictures Tu’er Ye scowling his most horrendous bitch face at him – seriously the stuff of nightmares, how did such a grumpy rabbit manage to produce a sweet and adorable cuddly critter as Lingling, it beggars belief – and immediately banishes the image in the darkest recesses of his mind.

« Ah ! Young Master, beware ! »

In hindsight, it isn’t that much of a surprise for the Jade Mountain to have cliffs – since, you know, it’s the Jade Mountain , of course it’s going to be a high place with danger of falling when you forget to mind your steps. It’s rather easy to not remember that, because Nanny has carefully built her gardens on terraced fields.

But when you stumble upon a very steep slop overlooking the valley from such a terrific height, you can barely see the trees down there under the mist, well, suddenly you remember how puny you are – in spite of having been reborn as a god.

Shen Yuan screws his eyelids shut to prevent himself from puking in fright, his heartbeat roaring in his ears.

« Young Master ! Young Master, are you alright ? »

He takes a deep breath – that wouldn’t do to faint right besides the cliff, what if he accidentally rolls over himself and drops ? Also, poor Lingling would be stuck watching over his pitiful ass, because Shen Yuan doesn’t think she would leave him to go and bring help back if it means abandoning him for Nanny’s wild beasts to have a taste of Moon baby god.

That’s a major annoyance with the Queen Mother, everyone complains about her not bothering to train her very extensive menagerie into not shitting everywhere or avoiding to claw people because they’re feeling peckish. Nanny claims she cannot actually control the beasts since she’s the embodiment of fickle and cruelty and taming is the opposite of that, but Shen Yuan strongly suspects her from being lazy – why would she care about training a tiger to not eat her, when she’s so naturally terrifying that said tiger won’t even dare to snarl at her ?

He’s remembering all that when the bushes rustle and part to let a beast appear, and what a sight it is – a lump of flesh walking on six pudgy paws, four wings uselessly flapping on its back. It doesn’t have a face yet Shen Yuan knows it’s staring at him.

Hundun, the faceless monster, embodiment of the primordial chaos, as innocent and dumb as a young child. Shen Yuan isn’t surprised to find such a critter in Xiwangmu’s garden – even if she hadn’t made her goal to own the greatest zoo in the Three Realms, the hundun would have found a way in. It’s a beast of confusion and disorder, after all, you are more likely to stumble upon it in the place where it’s not supposed to be.

« Hello there » Shen Yuan politely greets the hundun.

A brownish wing pitifully flaps, and Lingling squeals.

« What is that  ? » she harshly whispers. « It reminds of a half-cooked dumpling, just look how fat it is ! »

That’s not a very nice thing to say, and the hundun can hear the insult in spite of its apparent lack of ears – it aggressively walks towards the bunny who squeals again, jumping backwards and crashing into Shen Yuan’s legs, and he immediately loses his balance.

It’s never fun to fall, but it’s even less fun when you unfortunately are situated on a cliff when it happens.

Shen Yuan barely has time to register vertigo running along his spine before he plunges in the whistling air, the valley way down waiting for him to go splat at the arrival.

« YOUNG MASTER ! »

Lingling has jumped – what the fuck – why would she even do that – she’s only a tiny rabbit, how does she think she’s going to help – cannot very well fly him back to safety, can she ?

Hysterical laughing bubbles in Shen Yuan’s throat as he’s falling, black invading his vision until he doesn’t see anymore.

He barely feels the full-body tingling washing over him as he loses consciousness.

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu never liked the gods. Yes, he was aware of their existence – how could he not, when he raised his wretched self to the exalted position of Peak Lord from the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, potentially to ascend if he could trick his golden core into working properly for once – but that wasn’t a reason for him to like the Upper Realm’s inhabitants.

He couldn’t see any real difference between the gods and the wealthy noblemen and women that would parade in their silks and kick the slave brats down into the gutter for ruining their day by breathing in their general vicinity. Xiao Jiu knew the aristocracy and loathed them with the seething hatred of one that never owned anything towards the ones that got everything handed to them by virtue of being born, as if that was such a feat.

The only good thing the Qing Jing Peak Lord would concede about the gods was their complete absence from the Mortal Realm. Yes, sometimes one would hear tales about a mysterious sworsdman slaying an army of monsters with inhuman speed and strength, or a maiden so beautiful people were left blinded in her wake, and the land being blessed after their departure, but these stories were sparse and espaced in time.

The Heavenly Officials didn’t care about mortals, far too busy enjoying Heaven, and Shen Qingqiu could live with that – he didn’t care about gods either, they would ignore each other and everyone would be satisfied by the situation. Now, if only this water buffalo that failed to pass as a civilized human being and claimed to be the Bai Zhan War God could do the same, that would be wonderful, but Liu Qingge seemed to live in order to cause Shen Qingqiu unending annoyance and frustration.

Shen Qingqiu unfortunately could see Liu Qingge ascending as a Martial deity, purely because he was too meat-headed to understand when he was supposed to stop and wonder if he genuinely wanted to spend an eternity away from the Middle Kingdom and its many beasts to hunt and bring back as testament to his prowess. That or he would kill himself with a qi deviation, and Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t cry a single tear over the dumbass’ grave.

When the little beast burst into his bamboo house, Shen Qingqiu wasn’t sleeping – how could he, when he was stuck on his own with bad memories buzzing in his mind as a swarm of angry wasps, it always was worse when it was dark and the Qing Jing Peak Lord usually would try to drown the whispers by visiting the Red Warm Pavilion, but he couldn’t go there as much as he wanted or Yue Qingyuan would summon him and complain he was ruining Cang Qiong’s reputation with his lustful behaviour. Instead, he was painting a bunch of sparrows in flight, playing with bits of grass and wild flowers – it was soothing to focus on the brush moving on the rice paper and the ink to grind and mix with water, and it wouldn’t entirely shut the buzzing but it would force it in the background.

Then the little beast came yelling and blubbering about a fallen star, and Shen Qingqiu ruined his painting when a splatter of ink covered a sparrow’s wing. He would whip the brat until his arms couldn’t stand the exertion for this offense, he quietly swore to himself.

But first of all, he needed to see why the beastling was so excited and frantic – Luo Binghe was a whiny, dramatic little shit, but he would make a big production with his tears in order to look like a victim, not that. At the very least, it deserved an investigation, then the Qing Jing Peak Lord would punish the brat for his distasteful behaviour.

Of course Luo Binghe was unable to explain what he found in the bamboo forest – why the fuck was he still on the scholar’s peak if he couldn’t even argue and expose his findings in a logical, reasoned way – so Shen Qingqiu had to put his overcoat on and follow the little beast into the darkness outside.

No, it wasn’t that dark after all, courtesy of the soft bluish glow that was pervading the bamboo forest, turning the place in the stage for an eerie ghost tale – and if a ghost could break through Cang Qiong’s wards, well, maybe Luo Binghe was right to immediately go to his Master and sound the alarm.

Then the Qing Jing Peak Lord finally laid eyes upon the light’s origin. Even he, an unrepentant street urchin who became an aspiring demonic cultivator and later engaged on the righteous path, who saw marvels and horrors in troves, couldn’t help but choke a bit as he fully understood what had just landed on his Peak.

The beastling was tugging on his sleeve. Shen Qingqiu would have struck him on both cheeks for such disrespect, but he barely registered the contact.

« Shizun… Shizun, is that a Heavenly Official ? This-this disciple thinks so, but he’s very dumb and cannot be certain... »

« Go and rouse Mu Qingfang on Qian Cao Peak » Shen Qingqiu commanded the brat. « Then you will leave for Qiong Ding Peak and tell Zhangmen-shixiong we have a very important guest. If he complains, tell him it’s more important than if the Emperor himself had decided to visit the Twelve Peaks. »

Indeed, the Son of Heaven ruled everything under the Heavens, but the man still was answering to the Upper Realm – the lowliest clerk from this place would command more respect from the masses.

The brat squeaked and the Qing Jing Peak Lord briefly wondered if Luo Binghe was about to faint from the sheer weight of the confirmation, but the little beast rallied himself and swiftly ran to fulfill his orders. Leaving the Immortal Master alone with the fallen Heavenly Official.

Shen Qingqiu swallowed and almost choked anew as he tasted the undiluted, pure yin qi filling the atmosphere, cool and resfreshing as spring rain after a hot afternoon, and it was right there, guilelessly allowing him to breathe in, how foolish, didn’t this Heavenly Official know what happened to treasure left exposed without any kind of protection ?

Of course, a Heavenly Official could flaunt their assets – who would dare to assault them when the price for such a folly would stop at nothing short of utter extermination for the guilty and everyone in their immediate surroundings ?

This godling… they looked asleep, unruffled by their fall, their limbs casually lying in disarray as if the disturbed earth was silken sheets and plush pillows stuffed with goose down. Their dark clothes contrasted with their pale complexion and their silvery hair, and their face was the kind that would drive painters and poets to drink and despair as they would be unable to properly express how beautiful it was in its jade-like, flawlessly carved features.

They couldn’t be anything but a god. Shen Qingqiu could have been the hardest heart to live, bent on denying the very existence of the Upper Realm – he had met someone staunchly defending the opinion that godhood was an illusion and bait for greedy dumbasses when he still was a young disciple, what a weird encounter it had been – and he still would have been forced to bow in front of this truth.

A Heavenly Official had fallen on the Cang Qiong Mountain – on Qing Jing Peak itself.

Shen Qingqiu wondered if it was supposed to be an omen, and if so, would it be good or bad ? For the scholar who didn’t care a whit about the Upper Realm, to host a deity…

It almost sounded like the bad plot of these novels Shang Qinghua couldn’t help but scribble when he had free time.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, Shen Yuan was familiar with waking up in some unknown bed, a stranger worriedly staring at him and ready to tell his poor sickly ass he had fainted in the streets and needed to be taken to the hospital. Since his rebirth in the Upper Realm, he kinda lost the habit – he’s a god now, his health is supposed to be perfect when not taking in account his pesky sensitivity to light, and even that faded in recent years !

So when he wakes up in some unknown bed, rather a comfy one and that’s how he knows he’s not in a hospital, a stranger saddled with the sorriest mustache ever grown on a upper lip worriedly staring at him as if he’s bracing for Papa Shen to sue the hell out of his ass for delivering bad news, Shen Yuan finds himself thinking, I didn’t miss that at all.

Then he remembers he fell off a cliff, and Lingling jumped after him, and he’s pretty sure a-Niang will go on a rampage . Oh please, don’t let her burn Nanny’s gardens, these poor plants and beasties never did anything wrong ! Alright, the hundun is responsible for Shen Yuan’s accident, but it didn’t mean to ! It merely was upset with Lingling for insulting its looks, no one likes people calling you ugly, surely it cannot be that much of an offense !

Lingling. Where is Lingling ? Poor thing has jumped after him, he cannot very well yell at her for being an idiot after such a gloriously dumb show of devotion towards her Young Master, but he’s going to fret if she broke something of hers – she’s a rabbit, they’re hopelessly squishy and that’s why they have to run so quickly, no defense whatsoever – it was a very long fall, she likely is in pain and trying to hide it…

Where is she ?

« Where is my attendant ? » he asks, and ouch, that sounds rather harsh but come on, he’s never at his best when he’s still busy dragging his poor brain on the shores of awareness, coffee would help a lot but since his rebirth he’s deprived from the energy juice because xianxia dimension, fuck both his lives with a fistful of Chili peppers.

Mustache-man – for fuck’s sake, Wang Wang would have jumped on the dude with his best razor to erase that abomination against facial hair everywhere at first sight – blinks and raises one eyebrow that threatens to disappear under his white hat.

« Your attendant, Young Master ? You were on your own when this lowly one’s shixiong called for my help to be given. »

Shen Yuan wants to close his eyes and groan his dismay – but mustache-man already seems stressed as heck, no need to make him flip his shit by acting as if Shen Yuan is dying. Which isn’t the case ! He feels surprisingly good, for a dumbass that stumbled off a cliff, maybe a hint of stiffness in his back and calves but he’s quite fine otherwise.

Well, a-Xian and a-Wu won’t be happy with him for dirtying his robes – a pretty dark blue number embroidered with white rabbits gathering herbs and grinding them in a mortar for making Immortality pills, he rolled his eyes when he saw it but they were unrepentant and who is he to tell them that they shouldn’t take pride in their work, really he could do worse than being claimed by a tribe of fluffy bunnies – he can see mud stains on the cuffs and smell crushed grass on his collar, and he’s pretty sure his hair ribbon loosened in his fall from the way his hair shifts when he moves his head.

Fuck, he must look like a mess. No wonder mustache-man appears so freaked, anyone living in the Upper Realm must be perfectly coiffed and immaculately dressed unless they’re relaxing at home, and that certainly isn’t the Fragrant Palace !

Actually, it looks like… Shen Yuan doesn’t know what it looks like, but it’s weirdly familiar. It’s a wide bedroom with sparse furniture, ink paintings on the wall – misty mountains at dawn and deer playing in the snow, very classical and quite a good brushstroke – and two other people beyond Shen Yuan and mustache-man who seems to belong to the medic category.

One of them is tall – not as tall as Hong’er because Hong’er is a fucking giant, but he’s trying his best to tower over the masses, dressed in black and dark grey robes with silvery trimmings, his dark eyes attentive over a serene smile. The other looks blatantly suspicious and maybe a little bit freaked, from the way his hand is holding his fan so strongly, his joints are whitening under the strain. He’s also wearing deep green clothes.

Both men cause Shen Yuan’s heartbeat to briefly stutter.

(why is he thinking of da-ge and er-ge suddenly)

(their faces have irremediably blurred in his failing memory but looking at these men he wants to sob because yes, he doesn’t remember that well yet it’s enough for him to swear it, there you are, my brothers look like that)

(why cannot he see them again, that’s unfair)

« Young Master ? »

Shen Yuan blinks. Tall, Dark and Handsome is blandly smiling at him, obviously doing his best to prevent everyone from having a full-blown breakdown. Judging from the ominous creaking rising from the fan held by Green Bitch – sorry, dude, you just have one of these faces that cannot do smiles as good as they can sneer – he might not be successful.

Shen Yuan softly exhales through his mouth in order to calm down.

« Begging your forgiveness for the distress I inadvertantly caused » he declares as he carefully sits up. « I didn’t mean to leave the Queen Mother of the West’s gardens in such an uncouth manner. »

Mustache-man quietly chokes. Alright, not that quietly, and Shen Yuan worriedly ogles him – who’s supposed to help when the medic is fallen low by his own body ? Fortunately, the guy doesn’t faint in spite of very much looking like he wants to lose consciousness for the next two centuries.

« This one is sure the Young Master didn’t » Tall, Dark and Handsome comments, his smile growing even more bland – how does he manage that ? Maybe it’s how he represses his urge to scream, da-ge also did that. « So you were visiting the Queen Mother of the West ? »

Shen Yuan eyeballs him – seriously, is he going to claim he doesn’t know who Shen Yuan is, when the whole Upper Realm is aware of the Highest Emperor summoning the Moon fairy and her offspring to the Imperial Palace ?

On the other hand… the three men in this room are weirdly plain. Shen Yuan can feel their potent cultivation, he can see how beautiful they are – yet it’s unpolished, lacking refinement when compared to the courtiers and officials living at court.

His innards threaten to twist themselves in a knot. Shen Yuan narrows his eyes.

« Might I learn the name of my discussion partner ? » he asks in his most polite tone.

Tall, Dark and Handsome bows his head.

« This one is Yue Qingyuan, Sect Leader to the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, and there are my martial younger brothers, Shen Qingqiu and Mu Qingfang. »

… Shen Yuan is not freaking out.

Really not.

Chapter Text

Seriously, Shen Yuan is not freaking out. He just… needs to process the information… that he just fell from the Jade Mountain into the shittiest stallion novel to ever pollute the Internet since web writers became a thing.

Maybe he died for the second time and it’s his own personal, tailor-made hell for being an awful child that made his a-Niang unhappy ! That would be a good explanation, actually – well, only for the fact that being unfilial wouldn’t rate such an horrendous punishment. Shen Yuan has heard of Yama and how the guy rules the Underworld and the wheel of rebirth and the sinners to castigate for them to obtain a clean slate, and the King of Hell isn’t a sadist.

Alright, he is a sadist – when you can order for someone to be disemboweled or drowned in filthy blood or hung upside down by hooks piercing their body, then you have a fucking problem with empathy – but he has standards. He wouldn’t force a sinner to slog through endless papapa written in completely improbable and disgusting ways !

Shen Yuan still isn’t processing the information. His brain won’t let him, far too busy screaming in sheer uncomprehending horror because what the frak  ? What the flying fuckity fuck  ? Gods being real, that’s a thing, it took him time but he ultimately accepted it, and now stallion novels are real too ?! Or is that a freaky coincidence ?

He dimly remembers merchandise for Proud Immortal Demon Way that wasn’t revolving around the protagonist or his harem – pictures of the scum villain Shen Qingqiu and the other Peak Lords weren’t that popular since they had been killed early in the novel and were irremediably entertwined with Luo Binghe’s wretched childhood, but they nonetheless existed.

Shen Qingqiu is supposed to be a cool, harsh beauty, while Yue Qingyuan couldn’t unleash more big brother energy if he actively tried. Mu Qingfang – well, no one ever mentioned the best medic in the Middle Kingdom having facial hair, and certainly not a mustache as pitiful as this one. But the scum villain and the long-suffering Sect leader…

(this isn’t me at all, er-ge had complained after hearing Shen Yuan gushing over a picture of Shen Qingqiu overlooking his disciples with a pitiless gaze, and stop accusing me from having a resting bitch face or I am going to lick your ear)

(if a-Yuan is saying so, da-ge had fondly smiled after listening a description of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect Leader, and by the way, you think of me when you’re reading about someone introduced as the most powerful cultivator in the jianghu?)

Well, they might not be dudes who happen to share the same name and face than doomed characters in a trash novel written by a hack more interested in pandering to their fanbase than actually writing a novel. Maybe they are the real deal.

Shen Yuan kinda wants to lie down and scream until the world makes sense again. Where is Lingling ? He needs cuddles – there’s nothing cuddlier than a bunny. And he really has to check on her, she jumped after him when he fell off the cliff and he’s alright but what if his mysterious lack of serious injuries was limited to himself ? What if she’s lost somewhere on the mountain, alone and in pain ?

He needs to find her.

« Ah ! Young Master… shouldn’t rise, really » Mu Qingfang softly protests when Shen Yuan stands up and leaves the bed. « We still don’t know if traveling between planes is nefarious for a Heavenly Official’s health, annals are quite unclear on the matter... »

Shen Yuan almost snorts, of course Heavenly Officials needing a mortal doctor would be the ones stripped from their power and banished in the Middle Realm so they’re not going to be exactly peachy , won’t they ? But he abstains from admitting this out loud because he needs to focus on the very important task at hand.

« Have you seen a dark-furred rabbit with red eyes and a pink nose in my vicinity, when you stumbled upon my incapacitated self ? »

Yue Qingyuan scrunches his brows together, plainly floored by the inquiry, while Shen Qingqiu openly sneers.

« Why would the Young Master care about some rabbit ? » the scum villain ponders, and Shen Yuan feels the last dregs of doubt about the dude being scum vanish.

« She’s my attendant » he snaps – very politely, Wang Wang and Xiao Lan and Tu’er Ye are stuck in the Fragrant Palace but they nonetheless are breathing down Shen Yuan’s neck, « and I shall be quite displeased if she came to harm. Now, are we done talking ? This one would like to examine the place he appeared, maybe I will learn more about her current fate. »

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t openly grimace, but he’s making a face like some shmuck that just swallowed a bucketful of lemon juice with extra salt. Take that, you scum ! This is called being a nice boss to your subordinates, and maybe you wouldn’t have been turned – or you will be turned ? Shit, he’s no good with fluid timelines – in a pickled human stick by your most abused disciple if you had shown a modicum of decency ! But it would ask of you to care about someone else beyond yourself, and the scum villain naturally is unable to do this.

Yue Qingyuan’s bland smile staunchly refuses to waver. It’s rather impressive, actually – more than a few businessmen would sell their firstborn for such an unemotive face, no wonder Cang Qiong is considered the top Sect with this guy playing politics !

« As Young Master wishes, then » he decides.

Shen Qingqiu softly hisses under his breath, only for the Sect Leader to raise one eyebrow at him. The scum villain scowls and keeps his shoulders tense, but there’s a bit of resignation in his overall posture. Shen Yuan has read about Yue Qingyuan behaving like a spineless enabler when Shen Qingqiu was involved for a mysterious reason – he always suspected blackmail and why the fuck did Airplane refuse to consider an arc with Luo Binghe investigating on the matter, maybe it would have prevented the guy’s gruesome demise, ten thousands arrows is way too much but Airplane is utterly unaware of what moderation entails, the asshole – so it’s surprising to see him put his foot down for once.

On the other hand, Shen Yuan is their guest and Yue Qingyuan really cannot allow Shen Qingqiu to run roughshod over him in front of a guest, that would imply some pretty nasty things about the Tian Gong Twelve Peaks and face is everything in the jianghu, lose that and people will turn against you so swiftly you will suffer a heck of a whiplash.

Shen Qingqiu serves as the perfect exhibit for this rule – once Luo Binghe dragged him to trial, it was the end for the Qing Jing Peak Lord, and Cang Qiong would have taken a serious hit to their credentials if they had refused to cut bridges with the scum.

Alright, they still perished, but it came later, and because Luo Binghe wanted to destroy everything his hated Shizun held dear. Which, excessive much, slaughtering people that joined years after the Endless Abyss and had no idea of your existence.

And that’s why the protagonist really ought to search a therapist instead of yet another wife.

Chapter Text

Mu Qingfang and Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan flatly refuse to let Shen Yuan go with the directions to his impact site, which, pretty rude. Does he look like he’s going to lose his way ? He’s no Roronoa Zoro from One Piece, and by the way Shen Yuan still is mourning the fact that he will never see what the legendary treasure hidden by Gold Roger is, such a fucking travesty.

Well, he understands a mite why the medic is insistent on trailing after him, he might suffer from a commotion or another thing after falling from the Jade Mountain into another Realm entirely and as a physician Mu Qingfang is duty-bound to keep everyone on the Tian Gong mountain range more or less healthy. Shen Qingqiu – that’s easy too, the scum villain is a paranoid asshole and would obsessively watch any single move of someone intruding on his Peak, because Shen Yuan fell on Qing Jing Peak, how lucky for him.

Still, he has to acknowledge this is a beautiful place – it slightly reminds him of the Fragrant Palace, with its half-tended, half-wild greenery, but the Fragrant Palace is more focused on flowers while Qing Jing is teeming with bamboo, to the point you actually taste it when breathing the air there.

This isn’t the only flavour in the air – how weird – Shen Yuan can feel freshly ground ink and mulberry paper and wood varnish and pigments for painting, all of these linked together by a potent undercurrent of yin energy, smooth and cool as a lazy river bathed in moonlight.

It’s surprisingly comfortable a feeling, and the godling briefly wonders why Airplane – this hack – never once mentioned the atmosphere in their narrative. But on the other hand, Luo Binghe wasn’t very skilled in qi-sensing, more on overwhelming firepower, so maybe the protagonist wasn’t aware of Qing Jing’s wonderful soul ?

That certainly would explain why the Heavenly Demon trashed the place and slaughtered the disciples and hallmasters calling it home without the tiniest hint of remorse. A deaf man wouldn’t care about a beautiful song, the melody is for others to hear.

« Young Master ? You… are... »

Mu Qingfang’s wide eyes are far too busy reflecting bluish light to remember they’re supposed to be brown and alright, Shen Yuan can understand why the dude is unsettled – normal people aren’t supposed to glow in the dark, maybe if you’re a ghost or one monster with these awesome bioluminescent patterns on their skin. Or – apparently – if you’re the only child of the Moon fairy.

Shen Yuan’s nape is burning with shame. Seriously, who wants to be a fucking glow stick ? Not him, that’s for sure ! And in front of three cultivators who make a face, like they don’t know if they ought to burst out laughing because it’s a completely ridiculous scene, or burst out sobbing because that’s completely cringe and it’s happening on their goddamn front door.

He would apologize for it, but he’s currently focused on finding Lingling so it will have to wait.

« I believed we were looking for my attendant ? » he reminds the small party with his mildest tone, and it does the trick of shutting everyone up and make them move towards the impact site.

It certainly looks ugly enough for such a site – a crater half-filled with mud and shredded grass and bits of burned bamboo. On the other hand, several deers and cats and birds are nosing around the crater, and when their small party enter the meadow the animals immediately still and stare at Shen Yuan.

Yes, he was warned about this, wasn’t he ? Xiao Lan had told him about living beings craving peace and soothing, and his own constitution being so filled with yin he’s doomed to be harassed wherever he goes – suddenly, he very much misses Hong’er, the giant bodyguard would glare the world into submission if he believed said world was taking liberties with his beloved mistress and young master.

Alas, Hong’er isn’t there, so Shen Yuan deeply sighs and gently pets the head of the red-crowned crane that boldly approached him, soon followed by the other beasts.

« I suppose you wouldn’t know where a black-furred rabbit big enough to be a human toddler fell near, hm ? » he laments, internally marvelling at the soft, downy sensation of feathers under his fingers.

To his utter bafflement, the crane squawks and bobs its head. Shen Qingqiu hisses – obviously it’s Shen Qingqiu, such a harsh sound cannot rise from another throat – and Shen Yuan distantly empathizes, that’s a startling level of intelligence for an animal, even one living on a cultivator’s peak with all this qi seeping into the ground and the plants and the beasts around.

« Can you lead me to her, please ? » Shen Yuan politely asks – Wang Wang and Xiao Lan and Tu’er Ye spent so many time beating him over the head with the far too numerous rules for good behaviour, he’s not going to fail them now even if he’s adressing a bird.

The crane squawks again, then starts walking towards the bamboo stalks. Since there’s nothing else to do, Shen Yuan follows it, and the three cultivators are following him in turn, what a weird parade they must make.

It’s barely a few minutes of walk before they stumble upon a black-furred bundle busy groaning and stirring in a much smaller crater – it makes sense for a rabbit to cause less of a disturbance than a human-shaped godling.

She doesn’t seem hurt, and Shen Yuan feels the dark stone nestled in his innards losing a lot of weight. He kneels beside her and pats her head.

« Lingling » he calls as softly as he can, bunny ears are sensitive and she might be rather confused by the fall. « Are you hearing me ? »

« Ah ha » she whines, blinking several times before sniffing the air and raising her head. « Young… Young Master ? Are you there ? »

He gathers her in his arms, lifting her from the dirt to be cradled against his chest. She exhales in relief, her whole body shivering, while the crane squawks in something sounding like displeasure.

« Young Master is alright » she sighs before opening her ruby red eyes and seeing they’re not alone. « Who are these men ? A bit too male for the Queen Mother to keep them as servants, aren’t they ? »

As the embodiment of femininity and the ruler of female Immortals, Xiwangmu surrounds herself with nothing but female attendants, of course. Yue Qingyuan coughs before introducing himself and his martial brothers :

« This one is Sect Leader of the Cang Qiong Mountain, Yue Qingyuan, and these are Shen Qingqiu from the Qing Jing Peak and Mu Qingfang from the Qian Cao Peak. We are quite honoured to host those hailing from the Upper Realm. »

An unimpressed Lingling haughtily sniffs, and since when is she able to channel Tu’er Ye in all his bitchy aloofness ? So scary !

« Honoured indeed » she declares, « for my young lord Shen Yuan, firstborn to the peerless fairy who lives on the Moon, Chang’e whose radiant beauty eclipses the sun, to grace this mountain with his presence. »

For fuck’s sake, Lingling, why do you have to be that grandiose in your speech ? Now they are going to believe he’s some king of fucking big-shot – and that’s not true at all ! He’s just some guy who lives in the countryside with his books and his mother who happens to be the xianxia equivalent to a pop idol !

Crap baskests, he’s never going to live this introduction down, he already knows it.

Chapter Text

Everyone had decided to go back to the bamboo house – Shen Qingqiu’s house and for child-abusing trash dude has impeccable tastes – because discussing the future in the dark and the dirt when you have the possibility to stay warm indoors, well, you would have to be a masochist or a genuinely inhuman freak that doesn’t care about hostile surroundings or bent on keeping other people on their toes because you’re trying to manipulate them.

Shen Yuan is hopelessly grateful for the decision, because there’s lit candles in the house and his skin stops glowing blue when another source of light is near – he won’t be anyone’s glow stick as long as he can avoid it, is that clear ?

He’s also grateful for Lingling forgetting property and staying comfy on his lap – making him sit on the bed, because it’s the best position when you have a toddler-sized bunny using your legs as her personal seat – this way he can discreetly cuddle her without losing face and looking like a lost, useless brat who needs a plush toy to not suffer a panic attack. Which… he is, actually. But he needs to appear a lot tougher if he wants to survive the upcoming trials with all his limbs intact and firmly attached to his person.

Yes, there will be trials. Folk stories and tales have established trials are needed in order to go back to the Upper Realm for the unfortunate schmuck who manages to get exiled or bumble his way off a cliff, and gods are creatures of narrative and meta-knowledge, so Shen Yuan has no other choices in front of him.

That, or he can wait for the Queen Mother to notice she lost her guest. He’s not going to bet on this, it’s more likely for his mother to freak out when he won’t be back at their lodgings in time for supper. Holy shit, the Highest Emperor will have to talk fast in order to persuade Chang’e from not entirely cutting the communication channels between the Fragrant Palace and the Imperial Palace, and Shen Yuan still thinks it’s going to fail.

Shite, that promises to be hilarious, and of course he’s not up there to enjoy the spectacle with Nanny happily sharing her pastries and commenting on the scene. Fuck both his lives, and fuck the guy that fumbled his rebirth and saddled him with such pathetic luck.

As he internally laments his current circumstances, Lingling is regally eyeballing the three cultivators arrayed in front of her and her precious Young Master, as if she is the Highest Emperor holding court while he sits in his mutton fat jade throne, and not a fluffy bunny primly sitting on her young lord’s lap. Maybe Tu’er Ye isn’t that much of a bad influence, because she actually appears impressive.

Maybe she’s wasted as a messenger. Once they will be home again, Shen Yuan will name her his personal secretary, she will get to sneer at everyone insisting for him to wake up early in the morning – really, nine o’clock is the earliest he will accept, why is that so difficult for the rabbit attendants to remember unless they’re sadists like his tutors ?

« My young lord’s presence on this plane isn’t part of a great plan » she was saying, and woof, does she need to sound annoyed ? Alright, it’s better to hide behind anger when one is so shameful and embarrassed you would stutter and swallow your tongue otherwise but still ! « It was nothing but an unfortunate mishap. »

« A mishap » Yue Qingyuan repeats, his face carefully deprived of anything betraying his true feelings about speaking to a furry rabbit, yes she was born in the Upper Realm but it doesn’t make her less of a rabbit. « This Sect Leader understands. How much time will your Highness have to wait before going back to the Heavens, pray tell ? »

« Who can say ? » Shen Yuan decides to admit, in his blandest tone and isn’t that a pain for him to keep calm when he doesn’t have any fucking idea of what he’s doing, and who the frak is your Highness , he’s not that important a deity, pretty sure he’s on the lowest rung of the totem pole or even beneath that. « We all are subjects to Fate’s whims. »

His dialogue is cringey and he wants to fall to his knees and beg for mercy, but come on, he’s a god and as such he has to appear mysterious and aloof and all this tripe, Nanny is going to skin him alive and turn him in a wall hanging if he doesn’t play the game – or maybe she will let Tu’er Ye turn the full might of his scowling bitch face against Shen Yuan for a day-long lecture on upholding the Fragrant Palace’s standards and reputation. The latter might be the worse option.

Shen Qingqiu’s glare attempts to reach the same level of frightening and traumatizing. It’s quite the valiant effort, the Qing Jing Peak Lord is almost there but he still has to work on his anger – you can feel he very much wants to bite your head off, Tu’er Ye manages to create a dreadful atmosphere in spite of merely looking grumpy. Anger is always scarier when it’s utterly under your control, because you will unleash it in a wholly unforgettable way.

« This humble master supposes your Highness » Shen Yuan’s ears almost wither from hearing the sheer amount of scorn piled in these two last words, « wishes to sojourn on the Qing Jing Peak ? »

Living with the scum villain ! Shen Yuan internally shrieks in dismayed horror, and judging from Yue Qingyuan and Mu Qingfang gaping – in a very restrained, subtle manner because cultivators, and they’re supposed to remember their manners in front of a guest – at their green-clad martial brother, they too are aware it’s a disaster in waiting.

On the other hand, Shen Yuan hears the quiet, soft humming of the Peak itself all around the house, enticing him to stay – is the mountain somehow alive, it gives off the impression of a maiden not daring to breath as she hopes for her celebrity crush to look in her eyes and agree to date her, that should be weird and creepy yet it manages to be endearing and awkwardly sweet.

Also, the possibility to meet Luo Binghe in his white lotus days ! Since Cang Qiong isn’t a charred field covered with bones and ash, Shen Yuan concludes he must be at the beginning of the Disciple arc, when the Demon Emperor still was nothing but a cute, mercilessly bullied little sheep. Such a shame he went bonkers from trauma and power-lust and mundane lust, turning into the blackest lotus to ever darken the Internet !

Ahh, decisions, decisions…

Chapter Text

Yue Qingyuan wasn’t panicking – much.

Maybe he would start believing such a tremendous lie if only he repeated it to himself over a thousand times – he still wondered how he managed to not lose his composure when Luo-shizi banged at his door in the dark of the night, screaming about a Heavenly Official having decided to grace the Twelve Peaks with their presence.

Shifu had constantly told him when he was a mere Disciple that a leader ought to keep his head cool no matter the circumstances, and the man had lived and breathed this belief. Still, Yue Qingyuan couldn’t help but think Shifu himself would have panicked if he had been allowed to behold a genuine god in his lifetime.

Heavenly Officials weren’t known for leaving the Upper Realm unless forced by the direst matters – why would a lotus blossom return to the mud from which it had escaped, after all ? In three generations of Peak Lords ascending to their exalted position and leaving it to their successors, not a single sighting had been signaled, and Yue Qingyuan had expected it wouldn’t be different with the Qing generation.

But a god had come to Cang Qiong – to Qing Jing Peak, in spite of Xiao Jiu’s viewpoint regarding deities and the Sect Leader balanced between laugh and tears as he considered this tidbit of information – and it wasn’t a lowly minor deity, far from it.

It had to be the child to the Moon fairy, she who endowed her worshippers with beauty and blessed the harvest with abundance and good cheer, bride to a man who slaughtered so many mythical beasts and beings, even the suns weren’t beyond his bloodlust.

Yue Qingyuan desperately hoped for the godling – for Shen Yuan – to be his mother’s child in truth rather than the tyrant Houyi’s heir.

Yet Cang Qiong still was stranded in perillous waters if such was the case, for a Heavenly Official was impossibly precious to the world. If Shen Yuan suffered the tiniest injury, if someone dared to strike him no matter the reason, the Tian Gong Twelve Peaks would be razed to the ground and the land cursed for one hundred and eight generations, serving as a gruesome warning to anyone entertaining the thought of rebelling against Heaven.

The Highest Emperor wouldn’t care if it was an accident. He wouldn’t care if the guilty party kowtowed and grovelled and begged for their remorse to be accepted. He would only care about one of his people coming to harm, and he would pitilessly punish the one responsible and everyone around for not being careful and watchful enough.

The Sect Leader wanted to break in a cold sweat and his innards already were tying themselves into knots. Fighting Tianlang-jun when he was a measly Disciple wielding a sword consuming his lifeforce in exchange for martial prowess had been so much less stressful.

« We are utterly and completely screwed » Xiao Jiu summed up after they left the bamboo house in order to discuss the situation outside, the godling safely ensconced with his attendant in the guest room. « We are so thoroughly fucked, our grandchildren are going to be born pregnant with quadruplets . »

Yue Qingyuan usually would remind his shidi they now were Peak Lords and couldn’t swear as freely and colourfully than when they were starving street urchins. However, the circumstances were exceptional – and really, Xiao Jiu was speaking for the three of them.

On Mu Qingfang’s side, the physician seemed ready to faint on the spot, staying upright by sheer willpower.

« What are we supposed to do ? » the healer quietly asked, his voice wavering. « Hosting a Heavenly Official – sure, Cang Qiong Mountain has taken care of Imperial princes before, but that’s another level entirely ! »

« And yet we cannot let his Celestial Highness leave Cang Qiong » Yue Qingyuan gloomily reminded his martial brothers. « Could you imagine what would happen if the Huan Hua Palace heard of his existence ? »

Xiao Jiu immediately sneered, obviously picturing the Old Palace Master putting his greedy paws on the godling and manipulating him into blessing the Huan Hua Palace – in spite of the many, many tales and legends in which any attempt to bribe a Heavenly Official would see the would-be corrupter horrendously humiliated, or worse, obtain what they wanted in such a way they immediately regretted asking for it, but the Old Palace Master was as ambitious as he was powerful and influent in the jianghu.

Mu Qingfang painfully swallowed.

« What about the Zhao Hua temple ? » he suggested. « Or the Tian Yi Overlook ? Surely they would be better suited to watch over his Celestial Highness. They might even have the means to inform the Upper Realm of the need to send a retrieving party for their errant child. »

That – was definitely a good idea. Even the Qing Jing Peak Lord – tasked with the mantle of strategist – was raising an approving brow.

« I will send messages to both » Yue Qingyuan promised. « However, Mu-shidi should know they will want to confirm his Celestial Highness’ godhood before acting on their duty to maintain the peace between the Middle Kingdom and the Upper Realm. »

« Of course they won’t believe us » Xiao Jiu sniffed. « How many times my disciple had to tell you about what happened on my Qing Jing Peak for you to stop wondering if he was having a very insistent dream ? »

« Actually » the Sect Leader confessed with an awkward smile, « I couldn’t believe him at all until I laid eyes upon our unexpected guest. »

« I have seen it and I still don’t believe it » Mu Qingfang uttered. « Maybe it shall become real if I went on Zui Xian Peak and drank several barrels of their strongest vintage ? »

« Mu-shidi cannot stand strong liquors » Yue Qingyuan mildly pointed. « And Wei-shidi would be rather upset with you for drinking without telling him first so as to let him come. »

Xiao Jiu snorted as he unfurled his fan – his shidi loathed alcohol and he abhorred people who consumed alcohol more so, partly because he wasn’t fond of the taste and partly because the slavers tended to be at their most violent and sadistic after drinking their fill of rice wine.

« Go ahead and drink until you puke, until you forget this night. This Qingqiu shall immensely enjoy reminding Mu-shidi of his duty to care for anyone currently inhabiting the Twelve Peaks. »

«  Must you ? » Yue Qingyuan blearily asked, a headache threatening to split his brain into halves.

« Yue-zhangmen doesn’t have to intervene in my stead » the physician declared. « But I will remind Shen-shixiong he’s not alone in worrying for the future. »

« Does this master look scared to you ? »

Yue Qingyuan stared at Xiao Jiu, whose hand gripped his fan with such strength his joints were snow white, his brows pinched together and his lips reddened and flushed from the Qing Jing Peak Lord had bitten them, and he thought yes, yes you are .

But the words refused to leave his mouth.

Chapter Text

« Young Master… Young Master, are you awake ? »

Nothing like a bunny whispering in your ear to dispel the heavy mists of sleep smothering your brain – if the pleading isn’t enough, the whiskers tickling your cheek will do the trick.

Shen Yuan opens his eyes. Yup, still in the bamboo house, no little cottage in which he can hear his mother’s handmaidens bustling around for preparing breakfast and laying clothes for the Moon fairy and her offspring to wear without appearing like vagrants in front of the Highest Emperor and his court. Lingling gazes at him with wide, worried ruby red irises, her pink nose twitching – how is he supposed to resist the temptation to kiss this downy part of the bunny ? The truth is, Shen Yuan is a hopelessly weak man.

Lingling squeaks when he indulges his whim, her ears laying flat against her back, trying to pretend she doesn’t care and utterly failing at it. If she doesn't stop being a cutie, he will kiss her again until she faints, and it’s hard to believe she can channel her father with such ludicrous faithfulness.

Thank fuck it’s not the real her – after Shen Yuan gracefully accepted Shen Qingqiu’s invitation to dwell on Qing Jing Peak as long as he couldn’t get back to the Upper Realm, the three cultivators bade him goodnight before fleeing outside in order to gossip and plan for the future, likely with a lot of complains thrown in the mix and Shen Yuan couldn’t exactly blame them since he was upsetting their day-to-day life without any warning, and Lingling broke down.

Of course she freaked out, she was lost so far away from her tribe and her lone ally was her lazy, basically useless brat of a Young Master, who wouldn’t be annoyed and despairing in front of such low odds of you managing to bumble your way back home with all your limbs ? Shen Yuan ultimately laid himself to sleep with her cradled in his embrace, as if Lingling was nothing but a breathing, warm and very furry plushie – rabbits enjoy nesting together in a pile, and Shen Yuan is far too big and not furry enough to convincingly impersonate a bunny but he hopes he’s an acceptable substitute.

Since Lingling seems composed and not ready to scream herself hoarse and faint from horror, he daresays he’s doing a pretty good job of it, and he’s praying to stay an acceptable substitute if it keeps Lingling’s stress levels at a manageable cap.

A bunny will die when she’s upset or frightened beyond a certain point. The servants living in the Fragrant Palace might be disturbingly at peace with their own frailty, but Shen Yuan isn’t ready to lose one of his attendants to her own fucked up health.

(and he wonders, if it’s hurting so much to think about losing a servant, how much worse does it have to be when this is your child, your brother on line)

(that’s entirely because Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu have forced his previous life’s memories to the front of his mind, they still hurt but they usually stay buried deep inside his thoughts and won’t rouse themselves without a trigger)

He’s not ready to lose the only being he really can trust to be on his side.

Because he’s lost in the Middle Kingdom and alright, he planned to go there one day and visit, but he pictured the whole she-bang with a lot more preparation – like, at least he would have brought Hong’er to glare at slavers wanting to make a quick buck by stealing hapless travelers, and maybe a-Yan because he’s not cooking on his own when he can bring his personal chief in his journey !

Instead of that, a hundun pushed him off a cliff, so he has no money, no papers, nothing but the clothes on his back – shit, he will have to wash them on his own, he already hears the laundresses shrieking at him to not rip the silk or they will rip his freaking head in expiation of his sin – and a young bunny without life experience when it’s not safely ensconced between the walls of the Fragrant Palace.

Well, maybe he’s unfair towards Lingling, she certainly did her best to intimidate the shite out of the three cultivators yesterday, but Shen Yuan wonders if it’s supposed to be a testament to her inner potential or a fucking condemnation of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect since a quarter of their best and brightest let a fluffy bunny scare the piss out of them.

« Young Master ? What… what are we supposed to do, now ? »

Lingling is staring at him, her ruby red eyes wide and hopeful, and Shen Yuan feels a pang of remorse in his chest threatening to cut his breath because she’s lost in a dimension filled with creatures that would happily gobble her for being a bunny and a Divine Beast, and he’s her only ally.

She deserves Hong’er and her flurry of sisters and brothers surrounding her and supporting her, but Shen Yuan is all she got. He cannot very well let her down – she trusts him because she doesn’t know better, she’s been raised to serve the Moon fairy and her offspring since the moment of her birth.

He sighs.

« We will have to wait for someone to notice our absence. If it takes longer than a week, we might have to find a priest or monk devoted enough for their prayers to be heard in the Upper Realm. »

He’s saying a week, but it’s a bitch to calculate how much time that would mean in Heaven, Jeremy Bearimy timeline that won’t stop looping and all that.

Lingling scrunches her pink, downy nose.

« Actually, I wanted to know if the Young Master was more interested in refreshing himself or finding food. I don’t know about you, but I would be rather happy to graze a bit. »

Ah, yes. It’s important to tend to your immediate needs before planning for the long term – one won’t be able to storm the Demon King’s palace if one is too hungry to stand up, after all.

Shen Yuan snorts.

« Don’t even try ogling the bamboo, or this green-clad cultivator might turn you in a pretty fur stole » he warns her.

Lingling sneezes – no, she’s not actually sneezing, she’s making a noise filled with contempt but it very much sounds like sneezing to the godling’s ears.

« He would need to catch me first » she claims. « And I refuse to allow some measly mortal to adorn himself with my remains, not when Young Master is far more deserving of my pelt. »

For fuck’s sake, Lingling, why do you have to be that gruesome when you’re a soft, cuddly bunny ?

Chapter Text

Ultimately, it’s the grumbling stomach that wins – Shen Yuan doesn’t know where he’s supposed to wash his face and hands and his robes, and maybe the bedsheets too because he wasn’t careful yesternight and went to sleep fully dressed in his grass and mud-stained robes.

He’s pretty sure there is a pond somewhere on Qing Jing Peak – sue him, he might have been obsessed by worldbuilding and overly focused on details, something that drove him to sheer wrath more than once because this goddamn hack writer wouldn’t even remember where he put the door in the room, but it’s been a very long time since he read Proud Immortal Demon Way, a lifetime actually and he was busy adapting to his rebirth and godhood so yes, he forgot some things – so he might be allowed to use it for his laundry ? As long as the scum villain loans him soap, and as long as the resident bully group doesn’t ruin it…

That’s right, the bullies. Shen Yuan already feels his teeth grinding against each other when he thinks about it – if these assholes even ogle his cute, helpless Lingling as a possible target, he’s going to stomp them into paste, starting by their wrinkled, worthless nuts and pillars. And he will enjoy telling Shen Qingqiu to stuff it if the enabler wants to complain and make a scene about his pet rabid dogs being punished as they deserve to be.

Shen Yuan is pretty useless in battle, since Hong’er was squeamish about teaching him more than the basis of hand-to-hand and knife work, telling him to focus on chariotry and archery. Still, he likes to believe he remembers several good tricks that will give him the upper hand in a straight brawl, or allow him to hold it long enough for someone else to intervene in his favour.

He will have to find a way to improve his skill. Why did he let Hong’er talk him out of this, beyond his own laziness ? Ah, yes.

If the Young Master has to fight by himself, it means your opponent managed to kill me and this guardian isn’t confident in your odds to destroy someone powerful or skilled enough to slay one who spent centuries upon centuries into becoming the perfect killing machine.

It’s a very good argument, but Hong’er obviously didn’t imagine a situation in which the giant bodyguard would be separated from his charge by circumstances way out of his possibility to influence. He’s going to be very sorry about it, once Shen Yuan will be back home.

Hopefully he won’t beat himself too much for his lack of imagination. Also, Shen Yuan cannot think a-Niang would possibly blame her most devoted servant – she’s more likely to scream at her son for being a dumbass and ground him for eternity in the Fragrant Palace.

Maybe Shen Yuan would be better served if he waits a bit before trying to send a message to the Upper Realm for someone to come and bring him back. Barely time enough to enjoy his newfound freedom before losing it forever – a year or two should be good, right ?

« Young Master, where do you think the kitchen is, on this mountain ? »

Lingling has insisted on staying besides him, in spite of Shen Yuan telling her she could graze near the bamboo house while he’s seeking for breakfast. She’s apparently afraid of letting him out of her view, and that might be paranoid but she’s a cute little bunny who’s lost in another dimension entirely and Shen Yuan cannot bring himself to dismiss her irrational fears, no matter how much it complicates everything. His meimei would never forgive him for making Lingling cry.

She also reassured him she doesn’t need for him to carry her in his arms, she’s built for running so she won’t get tired easily. So he lets her walk at his right, in spite of very much missing the warm, fluffy weight cradled against his chest.

« Can you hear something ? Maybe cutlery » he suggests.

Long, black-furred ears perk up and swivel in the air before drooping in a very pitiful manner.

« … Cannot... »

He pats her head to comfort her.

« Alright, it was a long shot anyway. Still, if we rely on the Fragrant Palace’s architectural plan, it should be in a place where the smells and noise wouldn’t disturb the disciples busy with their homework or martial training. »

« Oh yes, this place is supposed to be a place of teaching » Lingling comments as her gaze sweeps over their surroundings. « Do you think our host is currently giving a lecture ? Since he wasn’t in the house when we rose from bed. »

Yeah, the scum villain had been notably absent from his own dwelling, and Shen Yuan is very much panicked over it – you just don’t let the asshole on his own, that’s the surest bet for him to screw you good and not in the nice way ! Especially when the villain is one as remorseless and smart as the Qing Jing Peak Lord !

The godling frowns.

« Most likely, he gathered his students and subordinates in order to tell them about our unexpected arrival on these grounds » he guesses. « That wouldn’t do for someone to walk into us and mistake guests for intruders, don’t you think ? »

« That wouldn’t be polite indeed » the bunny concedes. « I hope these students are well-educated enough to show Young Master the respect he’s due. »

For fuck’s sake, Lingling, you really have no idea, don’t you ? This poor Young Master is such a lazy, worthless bastard, Shen Qingqiu’s disciples would gang against him to beat his ass black and blue out of sheer disgust if your innocent wish came true ! And Shen Yuan wouldn’t even be able to protest the treatment, because he knows how useless he is ! Even if everyone in the Fragrant Palace stubbornly claims it’s not true…

On the other hand, he can see the Qing Jing female disciples shamelessly cooing over the toddler-sized, dark-furred talking rabbit and spoiling her senseless – who could resist Lingling’s naivety and charm, after all ? You would have to be truly heartless !

She’s liable to enjoy it very much – rabbit servants in the Fragrant Palace are constantly begging for cuddles and petting, be it from Shen Yuan or their brethen. He witnessed his mother scratching Tu’er Ye or her handmaidens behind the ear more than once, and Xiao Yi actually found the gall to perch himself on Hong’er’s head and mimic a fur cap.

A sleepy bunny using the giant bodyguard’s head as if it was a perfectly serviceable bed, it’s an unforgettable sight indeed.

Chapter Text

Someone is already there in the kitchen when Shen Yuan finally stumbles upon the right building – after passing besides two from which music is escaping, and another in which someone was shrieking about some painting being ruined – of course a kitchen is never empty, a-Yan and a-Li practically inhabit the Fragrant Palace’s kitchen, they claim it’s because feeding half a hundred people (and knowing Tu’er Ye and Wei Wei, these natality-promoting sex fiends, it won’t stop at half a hundred people for very long) is endless work and so there is always something cooking and they cannot very well leave the pot unwatched because that’s how your house is reduced to charred ruins.

The boy looks pretty enough for the Upper Realm to tolerate him as a lower-grade attendant – still, he loses points with his wildly curly hair trying to escape his ponytail, obviously bereft of regular brushing and proper oils to straighten the frizzy mess, and his tanned skin hinting at days spent working under the sun instead of studying to achieve Immortality.

Also, his clothes don’t fit him. Yes, it’s obviously the kind of robes a Disciple would wear – a white and spring green number cut for running around and move unimpeded by flowing skirts and long sleeves – but they’re stained and threaten to tear at the seams because the teenager is currently suffering a growth spurt and will soon burst out of his shirt if he’s not given a bigger one.

Everything points at the boy being a servant – Shen Qingqiu is such a raging snob he would personally smother any student who appears less than perfectly groomed, there was pages upon pages of the scum villain sneering at the protagonist for being ungainly and stinking, as if an orphan fresh off the streets could be sweet-smelling and poised ! Dude, could you be more of a classist asshole ?

Lingling steps inside the kitchen.

« You, boy » she regally commands, and Shen Yuan wants to shiver because she’s almost perfectly mimicking Tu’er Ye when he’s in a foul mood, « you shall prepare a meal for the Young Master to eat. »

The hapless kitchen drudge looks ready to faint, potentially because mundane people are unused to toddler-sized rabbits able to speak and bossing you around even when they live on a cultivator’s mountain. His gaze flickers towards Shen Yuan and the godling does his best to smile as serenely as possible.

Judging from the servant’s flinch, he completely fails at it. Ah, well, one cannot win them all.

« If that’s too much of a hassle for you, this one shall cook for himself » he declares because he’s a deity in his current life and he was a grown-up man who managed to survive a few years on his own in his previous one, surely he can handle breakfast ?

« Young Master shall not  ! » a horrified Lingling squeaks. « Have you forgotten the burnt wontons ? »

« I was distracted » Shen Yuan immediately defends himself. « And that was once , your aunts refused to let me help them afterwards. »

« Because Young Master managed to burn wontons  » Lingling repeats, her nose scrunched to the point it wrinkles her entire face. « And Yan-yima had to throw her favorite cooking pot in the trash because she couldn’t scrub it clean after the disaster ! »

Yes, Shen Yuan is forced to acknowledge he did wrong on this point. Poor a-Yan was utterly dejected after losing her cooking pot, she only started to smile again after two weeks and a half of intensive cuddle sessions and brushing.

« How – how can you burn wontons ? » the kitchen drudge stutters, blushing under his tan. « You have to boil them in water or broth, so that – that would be impossible for them to burn... »

Lingling sneezes her annoyance.

« Unless someone is so busy complaining about his mathematic lessons he forget the cooking pot is on the stove, then the broth evaporates until the last drop and it allows the dumplings to turn in charcoal and ruin my auntie’s favorite ustensil ! »

« I am sorry , alright ? » Shen Yuan doesn’t scream, but he very much wants to, his nape burning him under his robes’ high collar and he really needs to find something else to wear, otherwise he will be indecent as he’s waiting for the mud stains to disappear.

The kitchen drudge is wide-eyed, and Shen Yuan wants to shrink into a cicada and crawl under the nearest tree’s bark for a hundred years, then he will emerge with the certainty the boy is dead and won’t be able to remember the shameful anecdote.

« Will… the Young Master be alright… with congee ? » the servant shyly asks.

Shen Yuan smiles in relief.

« Congee would be perfect, thank you. »

The boy flinches again – Shen Yuan really needs to work on his facial expressions, if they are so panic-inducing for an ordinary mortal ! A Heavenly Official isn’t supposed to terrify the pants out of their worshippers, that’s a demon’s shtick !

« And for… hum... »

The boy is ogling the dark-furred rabbit who eyeballs him with a very unimpressed expression.

« This one is named Lingling » she introduces herself, « and she wouldn’t disdain bok choy, watercress, cilantro and kohlrabi. Raw, if you please, but cleaned. Oh, and berries would be appreciated. »

« Stop bullying this poor boy » Shen Yuan intervenes, « or you will have to content yourself with nothing but the grass growing on the mountain for a week. »

Lingling blinks her ruby red eyes.

« I am not bullying him. He asked me if I wanted to eat something, so I answered back. »

She sounds a mite unsure and meek, and Shen Yuan sighs as he strokes her downy ear and remembers how young and unexperimented she truly is.

« The way you’re talking at him is far too agressive. Would you be happy if someone screamed at you when they wanted something, even something you would gladly give them ? »

She’s pouting now, and Shen Yuan is satisfied to see his point has been made. Then he turns his gaze towards the kitchen drudge again.

« My apologies for her. Lingling still is very much new to the world, and she needs to work on herself to be a proud attendant of mine. »

« Ah – ah ! That’s – it’s alright, everything’s alright » the boy chokes. « Hum – please go and sit – somewhere ! Hum – are you okay with the table… ? »

From the way the servant is panicking, you would believe he’s facing a tiger afflicted with a toothache instead of a fluffy bunny and a useless young master.

Chapter Text

The congee is alright, creamy and warm with shredded ginger and vegetables, but it’s not as good as Shen Yuan’s usual fare in the Fragrant Palace. Alright, maybe he’s a smidge biased, a-Yan and a-Li are divine-level cooks after all.

Also, they introduced him to dishes he finally could eat without fretting about the food giving him hives or a cardiac arrest or a stomachache – having multiple allergies makes for a pretty shitty existence, especially when one is very, very unlucky and cannot consume wheat, milk, nuts or eggs at all. That combined with Shen Yuan’s weak heart – he’s still surprised he lived so long, and feels more resigned than annoyed by the fact he died from eating noodles. Someone likely screwed up when packaging the konjac noodles, maybe some oil fell inside, Shen Yuan’s dumb body overreacted as it always did by going in anaphylactic shock and that was it.

His parents would constantly fuss over him for being so skinny, but why would he have enjoyed eating when it was nothing but a source of stress for him, doomed to forever worry about the ingredients because sampling one dish could send him back to the hospital ? Even after his rebirth, it took him a long time to finally accept the fact that he’s now allowed to eat whatever he wants – he barely remembers his early childhood, thank fuck for this, but a-Ying told him it was a nightmare to wean him as he would cry and scream every time a-Niang would feed him real food, even with his muddled memory he was wary of what was slipped in his bowl.

Shen Yuan is alright now – more than alright, his immune system would munch demon parasites for breakfast, so he’s not threatened by mundane foods, you would have to bust truly horrifying poisons for him to start wheezing. He can eat the kitchen drudge’s congee, offered with a very, very nervous smile from the poor boy, and he won’t choke, won’t need an epipen, won’t have to see his bloated and reddened face in the mirror afterwards.

It’s still not as good as his usual, but he won’t say it – that wouldn’t be fair, to hold a lowly mortal to divine standards, so he merely smiles and politely thanks the boy for his hard work, it was very good.

He immediately regrets it when the servant’s eyes grow awfully wet on the spot and he starts sniffling while his lower lip wobbles.

« What are you doing ? » a baffled Lingling wonders after polishing a small pile of greens. « Did Young Master threaten to whip you ? No ! Then stop crying ! »

« Sorry ! » the boy stutters, the rabbit’s intervention helpless to prevent fat tears from rolling on these dirty cheeks. « I am sorry ! »

Shen Yuan isn’t a fount of empathy, he’s far too lazy to move his butt and do more than throwing a few pennies at charity in order to alleviate his conscience, but he cannot bring himself to stay unmoved when a child is pitifully bawling right before his eyes. Since his robes are already ruined and in dire need of cleaning, it’s quite logical to wipe said child’s tear-stained cheeks with a dark blue sleeve.

Both Lingling and the kitchen drudge splutter and squeak as he’s doing that. Just, what ?

« Young Master ! At least use a handkerchief ! » the bunny wails, and you wouldn’t believe how loud and high-pitched her voice can get, usually a rabbit won’t scream unless they’re severely injured and dying.

« I don’t have one with me » he fires back while he casually bats the servant boy’s hands aside, silly thing really needs a cleaner face but he’s trying to stop the silken sleeve from doing its job. « Everything is within our luggage, and that is under a-Wu and a-Xian’s purview. »

Lingling’s ears briefly droop as she’s forced to acknowledge the argument is sound – you cannot make use of something abandoned in another realm unless you’re a master of dimensional travel and able to summon tears in space on a whim. Suddenly, they perk again.

« Young Master can use a dish towel ! Surely that would be enough ! »

Shen Yuan grimaces.

« That cannot be comfortable. Also, that’s too late, I have already finished. Do you feel better now ? »

The kitchen drudge keeps his mouth firmly shut, far too busy staring at the godling with wide, obsidian eyes that sparkle and gleam in his tanned face, a bit like fire in the hearth when it’s spitting a storm of golden and red fireflies. These are startingly beautiful eyes, for a boy from peasant, mortal stock – worthy to be glorified in epic poetry, and didn’t some Greek author write about a woman so striking, a thousand ships were launched upon the sea to war for her hand ? Such eyes would warrant fifty ships on their own.

He barely hears the door opening.

« A-Luo ! A-Luo ! Did you hear, Shizun just told us – oh ! »

The girl wears a female version of the Disciple uniform but hers is pristine and has a knee-length skirt instead of pants. She wears her long black hair in twin buns adorned with green ribbons, thick bangs stopping barely above her brown doe eyes.

She’s gaping at Shen Yuan. Shite, has he congee on his chin ? Wait, no, he’s an intruder, of course she’s worried about seeing a stranger looking like he’s groping a boy in her age range – and Shen Yuan should really step aside if he doesn’t want for someone to call him a pervert. He’s old as fuck after living twice, he shouldn’t be that familiar with children not related to him !

« Are… are you him ? » she softly whispers, almost reverent. « The Heavenly Official who came to be Shizun’s guest ? »

And that serves as Lingling’s hint to slip within her herald persona.

« This is Shen Yuan, beloved child to the peerless Moon fairy, she whom mortals have called Chang’e. Who are you, to be so bold in front of him ? »

The girl blinks, then she curtseys, she actually curtseys, sweeping one foot behind her and holding her skirt out in her hands, graceful as a porcelain ballerina in a fancy music box, her smile pretty and dazzling.

« This one is Ning Yingying ! Disciple to Shen Qingqiu, the Qing Jing Peak Lord – and your host, too. »

Ning Yingying ! Luo Binghe’s first love, one of the main wives and the designated damsel in distress ! Fuck, Shen Yuan didn’t remember her being so well-mannered, even Wang Wang would be impressed by her curtsy…

Wait… she called someone when she barged in the kitchen… she called for a-Luo , that would be Luo Binghe… but there wasn’t anyone else in the kitchen beyond the servant boy with his stained uniform…

Oh. Oh, fuck .

Chapter Text

After rousing Sect Leader Yue and Mu-shibo from their respective peaks and bringing them to Qing Jing Peak for the Immortal Masters to accept that no, it wasn’t a prank done in very bad taste, a genuine Heavenly Official had fallen in the Tian Gong mountain range, Luo Binghe had been chased away with the command to go back to bed.

He didn’t actually complain – Shizun was far too floored by the deity that stumbled on his front door to care about beating him bloody for disturbing him in the middle of the night, so the fumbling Disciple would consider that a victory. And he needed time on his own, to fully process what just happened – what he just witnessed with his own eyes.

A Heavenly Official, there at Cang Qiong Mountain. Surely it was an omen of greatness and divine favour towards the sect – every tale about the Upper Realm would emphasize how blessed one was to behold one of Heaven’s peerless inhabitants, to be allowed to gaze upon their beauty and strength. And one of these people had just appeared in front of Luo Binghe ! He had been the first to see the Heavenly Official !

Surely it meant something – surely the Heavens had plans for a former street rat left orphaned after losing his mother to poverty and disease – surely he was called to be a great cultivator, one whose renown would spill at every corner of the Middle Kingdom !

It took a very long time for Luo Binghe to finally close his eyes, as excited as he was by the god’s arrival and everything it implied for the future. A measly Disciple couldn’t even properly envision the full ramifications, but perhaps he would be allowed to speak to a soothsayer ? A fortune-teller would be better suited for divining the threads of Fate involved in the currently unfolding tale…

The fourteen years old boy then dreamed of snow-white hair and bluish light softly illuminating the darkness. It had been so sweet and enticing he woke up painfully late, so horrendously late Shizun was guaranteed to string him up, whip him twenty-five times with a bamboo switch and forget him for the entire afternoon until it was time for him to join the other disciples in bathing.

Luo Binghe wanted to cry in anticipation of this dreadful punishment – why did he have to be that much of a failure ? And right after seeing a Heavenly Official, letting him to believe things would be alright now.

As it was far too late for him to attend class, the teenager dragged himself to the kitchen in order to clean the pans and pots and check on the larder – after a childhood spent wondering where he and his mother would earn their next meal, Luo Binghe freely admitted he was obsessed with having food in the kitchen. A kitchen also was guaranteed to be warm, because there would be fire in the stove, and it meant you couldn’t freeze to death – Luo Binghe had been very lucky once, when the icy river that gave him a name refused to swallow him, and he wouldn’t dare the river to take its mercy back.

And that was in the kitchen he was found again by the Heavenly Official.

It was strange to behold the deity in daylight – something about the white-haired being was better suited to nighttime, the gentle and sweet call of the stars and the Moon while the world was resting, but even the harsh sun was powerless to erase such beauty. It was like a flawless jade statue had been brought to life, his features carved with the meticulous precision of a crafstman who tirelessly sought perfection and succeeded beyond their wildest dreams.

It was eyes shining as quicksilver pools, mesmerizing and calling for one to drown in their depths. It was the iced waterfall of snowy locks tumbling beneath a trim waist, effortlessly humbling the finest silk thread with their luster and softness. It was the plump mouth far too happy to smile, barely flushed lips baring perfect teeth in such a dazzling display it was as painful as snow glare at noon.

How could Luo Binghe even dare to breathe in front of that peerless, unsurpassedly beautiful fairy ? He almost begged to die on the spot, it wasn’t important for him to become an Immortal after all, not after meeting a Heavenly Official in all his glory.

Then the fairy asked him for food. Obviously, Luo Binghe had no choice but comply – one couldn’t refuse a deity anything, it was a sure path to bring a curse upon your household at best, or the province would suffer at worst – his heart fit to burst in his ribcage because the fairy asked Luo Binghe something and Luo Binghe could give him this.

He could do this – no matter the haughty mien of the overgrown rabbit claiming to be the Heavenly Official’s attendant, it tried its best to look intimidating but Luo Binghe had faced Shizun for several years now, and when it wasn’t Shizun it was Ming Fan who truly had a gift to emulate the Qing Jing Peak Lord at his worst, so no matter how much it sneered, Luo Binghe wouldn’t drop dead on the spot and it would have to bear the disappointment.

The fourteen years old had a genuine gift to disappoint people, and fear flared in his mind as the congee finished cooking, as he remembered Shizun pouring tea over his head instead of drinking it, what if the fairy did the same ?

The Heavenly Official didn’t sneer at him while throwing the congee on the floor – he ate it all. The Heavenly Official didn’t call the dish disgusting-looking and good only for the trash heap – he told Luo Binghe it was good. The Heavenly Official didn’t slap him and berated him as worthless when Luo Binghe teared up in front of the praise – he wiped Luo Binghe’s face clean with his own sleeve.

His washerwoman mother told him how wonderful the people living in the Upper Realm were, how kind and merciful when they found a mortal worthy to be pitied, but living it was another thing entirely.

Then Ning-shijie appeared. He would have been resentful for the Heavenly Official wasn’t wholly focused on him anymore, but she let him learn the fairy’s name.

Shen Yuan . The Heavenly Official was Shen Yuan, born to the Moon fairy herself – and that was why he was so beautiful, Chang’e would bestow fair features upon her devotees, and that was why he was so kind to Luo Binghe, for he was born of a love that wouldn’t let the merciless gap between god and mortal to stop it.

This way she would know of his love for her and how he would keep loving none but her… Separation wasn’t enough for them to stop loving each other.

How could Luo Binghe not internally swear to himself that he would do his utmost to become Shen Yuan’s most faithful worshipper ? When the Heavenly Official was the breathing, walking embodiment of everything good and nice in the Three Realms ?

Not doing so would be sheer heresy. And the washerwoman didn’t raise her unruly brat of a son to be a criminal – she wouldn’t have gifted him a Guanyin pendant if she hadn’t hoped for the Merciful Goddess to light his way.

Luo Binghe would have to pray to Guanyin tonight, in order to express how thankful he currently was for his life. Maybe he had a hard life until now, but he was seeing a chance for more.

He wouldn’t let this opportunity flee away.

Chapter Text

Shite.

Holy freaking shite on a neon yellow pogo stick.

Shen Yuan has just met Luo Binghe – the boy fated to become the Sacred Ruler of all demonkind, the man that would ravage and burn the Middle Kingdom until it was a shadow of its former glory, dragged to the same level of harshness and barreness than the Lower Realm, the blackened stallion who couldn’t see a sister without fucking her thirty-six ways to Sunday and swiftly throwing her aside for his next conquest ! And he asked the guy to prepare him breakfast !

He kinda wants to scream, but Lingling would be quite distressed and maybe she would suffer tinnitus, rabbit ears are so ungodly sensitive. Also, screaming doesn’t fit with the persona he’s expected to maintain as a scion of the Upper Realm – aloof and far above common needs and feelings from the base kind, like brick-shitting anxiety.

But he just met Luo Binghe – he basically told the dude that yes, gods are genuine and it’s possible to travel between the Middle Realm and the Heavens ! Clever and ambitious as the protagonist from this shitfest Proud Immortal Demon Way is, he’s going to find a portal leading there, or he will force Xin Mo beyond the sword’s limitations because Luo Binghe is nothing but ridiculous and believes reality is one of his many, many bitches, and he will try to conquer the Heavens because hey, that’s what he does ! Just look at the Demon Realm and the Middle Kingdom !

Protagonist or not, Luo Binghe is going to die when he will meet a-Niang – the worst stallion protagonist to ever stud won’t stop thinking with his second head, and Chang’e is infamous for her beauty and her staunch devotion to her late husband, she will command Hong’er to turn the Heavenly half-demon into chunky salsa when he will proposition her. It’s going to be much, much worse than the incident with this disgusting swine that dared to kiss her after drinking a cup too much.

Shen Yuan – is surprisingly at peace with this prospect, he realizes while Ning Yingying takes his hand and tugs him outside, leading the godling on a sandy path while Lingling and a yet-not-blackened lotus follow in their wake. Yes, Luo Binghe is an invincible protagonist blessed with an outrageous golden finger and his writer’s utter laziness in creating obstacles, but Chang’e is Shen Yuan’s mother . Forgive him for rejecting the idea of her bedding a brat younger than her own son ! That’s freaky and disgusting !

Tu’er Ye would go ballistic, and for once Shen Yuan would relish the spectacle – the toddler-sized rabbit glaring the Heavenly Demon into submission and telling him he’s a mangy dog unworthy to eat their trash in his curt, immaculately polished speech, before allowing Hong’er to take the scene.

And listen, Shen Yuan knows Luo Binghe is intended to fell anything and anyone opposing him, but he grew in the titanic shadow of Hong’er – he witnessed the pale bodyguard’s training, his struggles when a Divine Beast decided the Fragrant Palace’s inhabitants would do for a snack – and he trusts the quietly confident man who could have done anything with his life after cultivating a human shape and growing beyond the limitations of an humble goldfish, and who chose to devote his whole being to the Moon fairy and her infant child – he trusts Hong’er as a naive brat would trust his dad to keep the monsters hidden in the darkness at bay, to protect the house and everyone inside.

He trusts Hong’er with a-Niang, he’s rather iffy on the exact nature of that relationship and isn’t interested in gaining more information on the matter, but he trusts Hong’er with his mother’s care and safety. Hong’er would storm the Imperial Palace to lob the Highest Emperor’s head off in order to protect Chang’e, that’s not some half-demon barely able to cultivate who’s going to be a genuine threat to the pale bodyguard.

While Shen Yuan is busy reassuring himself that the Fragrant Palace and everyone calling it home will be spared the horrendous treatment Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky forced on so many locations and people for lacking the Protagonist Halo when Luo Binghe came knocking at their door, Ning Yingying has brought him in front of a building made in the same style than Shen Qingqiu’s abode – bamboo and stark lines, but of course it would be, they are on Qing Jing Peak and builders are supposed to keep themselves to a theme. Well, at least it’s not overly gilded – Shen Yuan never found the descriptions of the Huan Hua Palace particularly tasteful, why would you waste so much gold in decorating your walls when you could put it in your treasury ?

Several teenagers are there, the atmosphere very reminiscent of recess after a very exciting morning, with everyone wanting nothing more than gossip and analyze every single word uttered by the teacher. Then someone yelps, the sound quickly smothered, and the heads turn in Ning Yingying and Shen Yuan’s direction.

They all look stunned – as if Shen Qingqiu just told him he was cancelling Christmas and their birthdays until their graduation, because that’s too goddamn awful and mean for anyone to actually believe it. Shen Yuan very much laments his inability to float – he would be able to run away from the awkwardness and insistent staring, Lingling would easily trail after him since she’s a rabbit, she can jump over impossible distances as long as it’s not a very time-consuming travel.

Alas, he’s stuck on the ground. Poor Lingling is twitching and presses her warm, furry body against his legs, obviously unhappy with that much attention paid to them even if the bulk isn’t aimed at her. Luo Binghe also seems painfully awkward, but since he’s basically Qing Jing’s whipping boy at the point in the timeline, of course his fellow Disciples’ proximity would cause him more distress than comfort. Alone from them, Ning Yingying stays blissfully unaware of their uneasiness, living up to her depiction as a ditz who proudly wears her crown as the doom magnet – she manages to make a bad situation worse in spite of trying to fix it, truly the poor girl has been cursed at birth or maybe she was whelped under some ill-fated star because there’s no other explanation for the phaenomena !

« Where are we, Disciple Ning ? » Shen Yuan finally manages to ask, in a desperate bid to save his skin from rupturing, too many goosebumps will ruin his epidermis.

« That’s the library ! Shizun is inside, surely you will want to talk ! »

Frankly, facing the scum villain sounds better than letting these children openly gape at their little band.

Chapter Text

The Qing Jing Peak’s library is nothing short of massive – a true monument to literacy, one that would make Xiao Lan drool in spite of himself. Shen Yuan remembers this hack Airplane described it as the xianxia equivalent to the universal library in Alexandria, famed for housing around four hundreds thousands scrolls at its height and turning the ancient Egyptian city in the capital of knowledge and learning.

And just like the Great Library of Alexandria was burned by Julius Caesar as collateral damage during his civil war against the Roman Republican forces in 48 BC, the Qing Jing Peak’s library is fated to be reduced to cinders and ashes when Luo Binghe will decide to erase the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect from the maps. Yes, it was extremely cathartic for him and the readers, seeing him destroy this place that caused so many unhappy memories for the protagonist, but now that Shen Yuan is there and looking at the place…

It smells like mulberry paper and freshly grounded ink with faint whiffs of floral incense, shelves and tables almost suffocating beneath scrolls and compendiums and more books one would be able to remember in a lifetime, Disciples old and new tip-toeing around as they take painful care to avoid making noise and disturbing their fellows busy studying or copying something.

In a few years, Luo Binghe is going to destroy that. This dirty boy in his stained clothes and his hair barely restrained by a ribbon is going to light a fire and burn this quiet, studious building until there will be left nothing but blackened dirt and the charred bones of people desperately trying to preserve smidges of knowledge.

Shen Yuan swallows as he ponders the possibility of breaking Luo Binghe’s neck right here, right now. That would be easy – Shen Yuan isn’t Hong’er but he’s nonetheless a god blessed with a physique superior to a mortal body, and the protagonist still is in his white lotus phase, his Heavenly Demon blood torpid and waiting the right trigger to awaken. His training has been utter shite, and he’s unguarded, wide open to a quick strike. Luo Binghe is weak and helpless.

Nothing but a child, and Shen Yuan would kill him for something he’s not even able to conceive. Yet.

Does this library deserve to burn ? Do these Disciples, staring at the newcomers with barely-veiled curiosity, deserve to suffer for the Immortal Master’s sins ? At least several of them cannot know about the abuse – and how many children joined after Shen Qingqiu pushed his hated pupil in the Endless Abyss ? So many lives destroyed in agony and terror, because of a fucking grudge that went beyond the pale, because of a fucking author that couldn’t hack it on their own and decided to pander to their fanbase’s bloody fantasies of gruesome, disproportionate revenge.

Shen Yuan can taste the citrusy flavor of nausea on his tongue, but he does his best to swallow it down and keep it locked away in his belly – that wouldn’t do to puke on this lovely hardwood floor, and Mu Qingfang might look nice but Shen Yuan refuses to expose himself to this silly mustache, that would be bad for his sanity.

Ning Yingying is still holding his hand, firmly guiding him in the alleys and wow, she’s surprisingly confident in her step, you wouldn’t believe such a ditzy, airheaded girl would be that familiar with a library’s innards.

« Is Disciple Ning coming there often ? » Shen Yuan softly inquires, keeping his voice low out of the ingrained reflex that pounces on people walking in a church or a place so thoroughly dedicated to learning you will feel the dumbest ass to walk the Earth by sheer proximity.

« Fairly enough » she hums in answer. « Yingying is occasionally tasked with ensuring the common areas for group study and individual study are well-stocked and cleaned – your Highness wouldn’t believe the things people forget in this place – but mainly Yingying comes here to look at the poetry books. I am not good at calligraphy, but I won’t stop hoping I will get it one day ! »

« Quite the praiseworthy attitude » Shen Yuan comments, discreetly ogling Luo Binghe.

The teenager mainly seems awkward, hunching in a failed bid to shrink into himself and make himself the less noticeable dude in the party – Lingling is the one who deserves this crown, mainly because she’s toddler-sized and well below people’s eye-level, so unless she’s speaking, that won’t change her lack of visibility – and obviously not listening to his beloved shijie.

Shen Yuan knows how paranoid Luo Binghe had been in the Disciple arc, when he just wanted for his bullies to forget his very existence and thought he could achieve that by melding with the background, but the fact is, the protagonist isn’t listening to the girl he’s supposed to crush on. Yes, maybe he already knows everything she’s babbling about, yet…

Thinking of it, Ning Yingying had been a rather flat character in Proud Immortal Demon Way , wasn’t she ? She was the nice, silly shijie that would stumble in traps and conspirations, and the latter characteristic faded as the harem grew and other sisters replaced her as distressed damsels needing for the Emperor to save them and papapa their troubles into oblivion. There was nothing about her liking poetry or fretting about her calligraphy.

Was Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky their usual lazy self, not even bothering with detailing her background, or was her relationship with the protagonist doomed from the very beginning ? Did Luo Binghe actually look at Ning Yingying, his shijie and first love, and genuinely seen her ?

Shen Yuan remembers a lot of things about Proud Immortal Demon Way , even things he would rather forget and doom to the pits of eternal oblivion as they deserve, but he doesn’t think the protagonist ever did that. That was one of Peerless Cucumber’s recurrent criticisms, every single relationship falling flat – heck, Luo Binghe’s undying hatred for the scum villain had been his most meaningful attempt at creating some kind of a bond with a fellow human-shaped being, and hatred is far from being a positive feeling so that was still fucked up and unhealthy.

Shen Yuan wonders if Airplane actually was hiding some plot in their crappy novel before deciding it would give the fuckwit far too much credit regarding intelligence and backbone. Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by stupidity – of course, any sufficiently advanced incompetence is indistinguishable from malice, and Airplane certainly was that dumb…

« Here we are » Ning Yingying sing-songs, forcing Shen Yuan on Earth with the reminder he’s dragged in front of Shen Qingqiu himself.

Time to face the music, then.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan hoped for Shen Qingqiu to look the tiniest bit less intimidating in daylight. He failed to consider the cultivator wouldn’t be half-awake and wearing a dressing gown when the sun would shine – when you manage to be effortlessly terrifying in your pyjamas, there’s nothing stopping you from traumatizing the whole world when you get time to prep yourself.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord is dressed in ornate white and green robes, a tall silver crown holding his half-bun in place adding to his height and his face carved from the iciest marble ever. Not a single hair out of place, if he’s trying to make Shen Yuan feel gross in his dirty robes then he’s wildly succeeding.

(he looks like er-ge in the morning, about to down three cups of coffee because his day is going to be shitty beyond everything he’s willing to tolerate without the black poison to help)

« I hope your Highness had a restful sleep » the Immortal master inquires, his gaze piercing in his pale face – green-arsenic, Shen Yuan read a very long time ago you would obtain a very peculiar shade of green with arsenic and he never actually got to see the colour, but he’s pretty sure this is the same shade as Shen Qingqiu’s irises.

Shen Yuan girdles his loins and freezes his features into emotionlessness. When one is adressing Shen Qingqiu, master strategist of the Cang Qiong Mountain sect and abusive trash who delights in beating his students bloody, it’s better to renunce any display of weakness – and emotion is a very big one.

That won’t be so difficult, with Shen Yuan claiming to embody the perfect Heavenly Official – by the way, why the fuck is the scum villain calling him Your Highness ? Shen Yuan isn’t related to the Highest Emperor or the Queen Mother of the West – even if she fancies herself her teacher and tells him to call her Nanny, there’s distance between them and it’s very good this way, Xiwangmu is an utter menace to acquaintances and students so he refuses to imagine how much worse she is with her family – he’s nothing but the Moon fairy’s lazy son and she’s living in the countryside, with nothing to do but entertain the Imperial Palace when called. Wang Wang and Tu’er Ye have taught him etiquette and manners until he thought his brain would drip by the ears, and they never once implied entertainers are worthy of much respect.

Surely it has to be worse in the Middle Kingdom, period dramas often implied actresses and singers were seen as fancy prostitutes because they had some varnish of education. Maybe Shen Qingqiu is trying to butter him up ? Well, he’s ringing the wrong bell !

« This one slept fine » Shen Yuan cooly declares. « And the Immortal Master ought to call me Young Master, unless he wishes to cast aspersions over my bloodline and encur the Highest Emperor’s retribution for implying unfaithfulness of his part. »

He abstains from mentioning Hong’er would skewer Shen Qingqiu on the spot with his mistress’ blessing for hinting she would ever bear a child to another man than her late, dearly beloved husband. The Highest Emperor commands more respect as the supreme ruler in the Taoist pantheon, and xianxia stories tend to lean towards misogyny, especially with characters as depraved as Shen Qingqiu who assiduously frequents brothels and was accused from grooming his own Disciple to submit to his lustful appetites – such a man won’t care about demeaning a woman, be she a goddess and a respectable widow and mother.

Arsenic green flashes as a fan unfurls with a snap – golden peonies in various stages of life, from burgeon to full bloom, a smidge ostentatious and it reeks of power-play, but Shen Yuan has no shit to give. He knows how low his value is – he cannot bow lower than he’s already doing, so he won’t.

« As Young Master Shen wishes, then » the green-clad cultivator capitulates, but it doesn’t feel like a victory, merely a lull in the battle while the enemy is gathering their troops to attempt another strategy.

And that’s when Ning Yingying, blessed girl who’s unable to read the atmosphere even when it jumps on her face to bite her nose, decides to intervene.

« Say ! Shizun and your Highness share a surname, and Yingying thinks they look like each other. Isn’t that interesting ? »

Shen Yuan wouldn’t use that word, and judging from the barely-visible frown that fleetingly appears on Shen Qingqiu’s face, he wouldn’t either.

Lingling snorts.

« So you would claim your Master is related to the Young Master, girl ? Is that your meaning ? »

Ning Yingying blinks wide, innocent eyes, a doe wondering what kind of funny toy is the pointy arrowhead aimed at her by a hunter.

« Well, are they ? »

« That would be rather impossible » Shen Yuan ultimately answers, before someone else can worsen this fucking mess. « My mother ascended to the Upper Realm a very, very long time ago, leaving her and my father’s mortal relatives behind. Any blood relation after all these centuries would have been diluted into nonexistence, nowaday. »

Luo Binghe twitches. Is he relieved, or disturbed by the possibility of his hateful teacher having family in the Upper Realm ? Hopefully Shen Yuan crushing the possible kinship suggestion will keep him away from the protagonist’s blacklist.

Ning Yingying’s brows are bunched together under her thick bangs.

« That’s just sad » she pouts.

« This is what it is » Shen Qingqiu declares, slowly fanning himself as a dickhead enjoying street theater without any plan to tip the actors. « And this Immortal Master has no want nor need for family. »

« Ah ! Shizun ! That’s even sadder ! » Ning Yingying wails, and poor Lingling flinches from the sudden assault against her sensitive ears – the girl’s nice voice unfortunately rising in a shrill pitch when she’s emotional, Airplane mentioned this peculiarity more than a few times to justify why Luo Binghe would rather flee than comfort her when she was crying after the latest assassination attempt or abduction.

And yup, the boy is grimacing. Well, Shen Yuan won’t hold it against the poor, ungroomed lamb – seriously, these curls, his fingers beg for a heavy-duty comb and oils to brush the tangles into compliance – this shijie of his really has a shrill voice, even when you’re not a rabbit or gifted with augmented senses because of your lineage or cultivation.

On the other hand, the scum villain is unbothered but Shen Qingqiu refused to break in spite of losing his limbs and being thrown in a pickle jar to wallow as a human stick for years. Truly, it’s impossible to spit on such fortitude !

Even when it’s coming from trash – you have to be fair if you want to be a good critic.

Chapter Text

« Young Master Shen will be pleased to learn Yue-zhangmen immediately drafted and sent missives to the Tian Yi Overlook and the Zhao Hua Temple » Shen Qingqiu casually reveals. « We of the Cang Qiong Mountain sect tend to shy away from dealings with the Upper Realm, the Middle Kingdom and mankind are enough to keep us busy. »

Shen Yuan isn’t surprised by the information, since Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky at least tried to make the four great sects in the jianghu distinct from each other – and that would mean they would focus on different matters. Cang Qiong with the Twelve Peaks is a jack-of-all-trades, dabbling in many skills to ensure they will fulfill the mission entrusted to them no matter the qualifications needed. The Huan Hua Palace is quite militaristic, with a heavy focus on fortune-telling and arrays that makes them heavily sought for mercantile business. Mainly, the protagonist focused on these two organisations, destroying one and remaking the other into his own personal palace from the mortal side of his Empire.

Luo Binghe didn’t really care about Zhao Hua or Tian Yi, crushing them more to utterly destroy any possibility for mankind to oppose his rule – Zhao Hua was unexpectedly good at fighting demonic troops for a bunch of monks living in almost complete seclusion and believing in overcoming suffering through compassion and non-violence, but it couldn’t end in any other way than Luo Binghe personally cutting the Abbot in half with Xin Mo and defiling the frescoes and ritual objects before razing the temple to the ground.

Tian Yi had been the weakest sect in the jianghu, aiming to serve as a women’s shelter for these abused wives, impoverished widows and orphans without other recourse. One of Luo Binghe’s human brides tried to flee there and take vows in order to avoid the harem – Shen Yuan couldn’t blame the unfortunate girl for trying to avoid this pit filled with venomous snakes, at least she had been gifted with a survival instinct – only for the blackened lotus to follow and papapa her into changing her mind, and when the nuns tried to protest he couldn’t very well steal one of them, he unleashed his army against Tian Yi, letting his generals slaughter the women or take them as concubines or playthings.

Also, Airplane had hinted at Tian Yi worshipping a goddess trapped in human shape, but it was dropped like so many plot points – in spite of several readers wondering how it would be for the Heavenly Demon to seduce a genuine goddess, after all these demonesses and humans and nature spirits and ascended animals. What a fucking shame, it would have been interesting for the protagonist to meet someone wholly different from the two worlds he belonged to…

Wait, Shen Yuan is a Heavenly Official, and he would have to share space with Luo Binghe as long as it would take for him to find a way back home, wouldn’t he ? Shite, it looks like he picked this dropped plotline up ! Still, he’s not a girl, so he doesn’t have to worry about the protagonist drooling after him, such a stallion will never ask for chrysanthemums with all the peach blossoms he’s gathering on his own !

« How long before the temple and the overlook answer to the missive ? » he asks.

« At least one week for the envoys to make their way here » Shen Qingqiu smoothly answers. « Then they shall ask proof of your godhood, of course... »

« Isn’t that obvious ? » Lingling interrupt, her whiskers shivering from the perceived slight towards her beloved young master, and Shen Yuan needs to stroke her head to appease the bunny.

« A skeptic will refuse to believe without direct personal experience » he explains her. « And I suppose they wish to document the encounter with my lowly self for the upcoming generations to be inspired. »

« Young Master Shen supposes well » the green-clad cultivator admits, his eyes steely in his pale face – Shen Yuan feels like he’s sitting the exams for Tsinghua, so much pressure to perform at the jury’s satisfaction !

Mollified, Lingling sags against Shen Yuan’s leg while he continue petting her. Ning Yingying seems ready to whip her phone out and take a picture to put on her Facebook – alas for her, she’s living in a xianxia world – while Luo Binghe is angrily pouting. Alright, maybe it’s not very dignified to stroke your bunny – cats are supposed to be much classier and more elegant – but Shen Yuan lives on the Moon, the rabbit basically is his spirit animal, and fuck manners if they prevent him from lavishing comfort on Lingling when she obviously craves it !

Speaking of Lingling, she starts to nod off, and he wonders if he ought to lay her on his lap – letting his attendant sleep on the ground won’t be very comfy for the poor bunny, and what does it imply about a young master, to refuse a measly pillow to his servants ?

« What kind of testing will the envoys demand from this one ? I will endeavour to do my utmost, of course, but I really hope you won’t ask me to bleed. »

Because Shen Yuan knows about sympathetic magic and he won’t take any risks, he read far too much horror tales in which a hapless shmuck was gruesomely murdered because his scorned wife tore his shoes apart or burnt a lock of his hair, and blood has a lot of symbolical power even when it belongs to a mortal ! As a deity, Shen Yuan’s blood is liable to have strong magical potential – he doesn’t want for a ruffian to bleed him like a pig for the sake of obtaining immortality pills or something just as overpowered and ridiculous !

Shen Qingqiu’s jaw briefly tenses, as if the scum villain wants to grind his teeth or bite his tongue. Is the Qing Jing Peak Lord irked by Shen Yuan’s demand ? It might give him airs of pampered noble brat – that he is, he won’t deny it.

« As you wish » the green-clad cultivator intones, and the reborn soul is now having serious Princess Bride vibes.

Fuck, wouldn’t that be a nightmare ? Shen Qingqiu in love with someone – with anyone – surely it cannot be anything but a trainwreck from epic proportions ! Betrayal and unrelenting psychological abuse, and don’t you dare to hope you will die at the end, he won’t allow you this ultimate escape from his merciless self !

Seriously, Shen Yuan wouldn’t wish that, not for himself and not for anyone else.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua never had been very enthusiast about gods, in this life or the previous one.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had been a voracious reader – partly because he didn’t have friends and books wouldn’t find him annoying, yes, partly because someone who refused to read lacked the tools and understanding to even hope they would write one day – and even if he wasn’t picky about the books he would read tonight, be it hardcore SF or thrillers or even philosophy treatises, he still nurtured a deep fondness for everything fantasy and myth and legends.

Myths unfortunately tended to be quite gruesome – forget Disney and Tinkerbell, the Grimm brothers and Andersen with his weird foot-maiming fetish were there first. And this poor little Airplane’s parents didn’t care enough about him to prevent their eight-year-old son to stumble upon something that just might drive him to wet the bed out of sheer fright.

Seriously, the festival of Xipe Totec was the stuff of nightmares – flaying men alive with the priests donning the skins as ceremonial garments, because it was symbolic of snakes shedding their skin and maize seeds losing their outer layer before sprouting ? Yes, there was a reasoning behind the deed, but Shang Qinghua very much cried every time he bumped his toe, so he just wanted to vomit when he thought of the ritual sacrifices in the Aztec society, with the heart ripping being the least painful way to die in the lot !

Airplane had enjoyed the Norse tales – the Lay of Thrym was fucking hysterical, just imagine the hairy, broad-shouldered Thor trying and utterly failing to impersonate the most beautiful goddess in Asgard – but seeing Loki murdering another god out of sheer boredom, and the way he was punished ! Alright, dude had been an asshole, but his poor wife certainly didn’t deserve to see her children murdered and turned into fetters for her husband !

And the Greek mythos – well, that was nothing but an awful mess. When the most decent dude in the pantheon was the one who scared everyone stiff because he ruled over the Underworld, when the big guy who supposedly was tasked with ensuring people would keep their word just wouldn’t stop raping any pretty face he saw and leaving them for his scorned wife to torment… yeah, the Greek and Roman mythology was fucked up.

Even when the god wanted to be kinda decent and preach it might be a good idea to be nice to each other, nobody wanted to listen. Christ had been gruesomely killed – and Airplane would always regret wanting to know more about the execution, crucifixion was for particularly heinous crimes and as such was tremendously slow, painful and humiliating – and the great Western kingdoms had immediately pounced on the new religion and used it as their excuse to crush anyone they didn’t like into submission or genocide the crap out of them.

Gods weren’t intended to be some kind of ideal, that was the idea Airplane had formed after much reading and pondering, they were a reflection of mankind and the world in which mankind dwelled. Unfortunately, said world was a hellish pit and people were miserable assholes for the main part, so it caused pantheons to be filled with overpowered jackasses.

It was the reason why Airplane could never bring himself to add the Upper Realm in Proud Immortal Demon Way. Oh, he made allusions, he put a Divine Beast as a mini-boss or some macguffin for the wife of the week, but he never actually wrote deities in his webnovel. Otherwise, his staunch misotheism would have colored his writing, and people were fucking sensitive about religious matters so they would have dropped his novel and this starving author would have lost money. No thanks ! He would keep his opinions to himself, that was a much surer bet !

Nobody ever wanted to learn what he was thinking, anyway. Not his family – in his previous and current lives – not his Shizun, not his martial siblings and certainly not Mobei-jun even if the ice demon would ask him weird questions on a whim, like, why the heck was it relevant if Shang Qinghua enjoyed a blue tapestry which Mobei-jun promptly took and displayed in his bedroom ?

Ah, his King truly was a demon, his thought processes foreign to a mortal cultivator, no matter if Shang Qinghua had written him into existence !

Shang Qinghua had been busy dreaming about his hopelessly handsome, most perfect creation – alright, Luo Binghe was his main protagonist and cash-cow, Sacred Ruler of the fused Mortal and Demon Realms and seducer of three thousands beauties, but Mobei-jun made Airplane proud in a way that Luo Binghe could never truly manage – finally ascending as the powerful King he was born to be and sparing his very much abused pet Peak Lord in a fit of generosity when Yue-zhangmen had called for an emergency meeting.

An emergency meeting he used to reveal the earthquake that happened in the night was because a god had decided to take a stroll in the Middle Kingdom and bother the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.

A god. A fucking god – the Moon Goddess’ very offspring, what the shite, he didn’t remember a brat in any version of her legend, happy marriage or not she ultimately flew alone to the Moon and stayed there with her rabbit and maybe a toad – on Cang Qiong ?

The Ku Xing Peak Lord had outright fainted when he heard the news – give the guy some slack, he was supposed to lead the Ascetic Peak, yes, but Proud Immortal Demon Way was intended to be a world abandoned by the Upper Realm out of boredom and snobbery, nobody was prepared to handle a deity descending upon the earth !

So yeah, it was shocking. Moreso for Shang Qinghua – who had written this world, who knew what would happen long before it unfolded, who personally codified the rules for the interactions between citizens of different Realms and he could hear Peerless Cucumber screeching at him from beyond the grave when he forgot one, but this one wasn’t his fucking fault !

It wasn’t supposed to be possible to begin with ! Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky never wrote a god in his webnovel, well unless Guanyin was taken in account and it was only because the false jade pendant carved with her image was a treasured memento of Luo Binghe’s late adoptive mother and nothing more ! Nowhere in the several millions of characters he typed, a god was supposed to meet Luo Binghe !

Something went very, very wrong in the plotline, and he had not the tiniest hint of what. He would have to investigate the matter, and since the god was currently camping on Qing Jing Peak, with Shen Qingqiu barely tolerating Yue-zhangmen’s visits by virtue of his authority as Sect Leader and their shared unhappy childhood, Shang Qinghua was very much endangering his life for the sake of gathering information.

On the other hand, a god leaving the Heavens was the kind of event that couldn’t be smothered no matter how much you tried, so Mobei-jun would hear of it and he would want to know more because he was a demon and naturally wary of everything divine.

Between the scum villain and the ice demon, Shang Qinghua knew who he would rather keep on his good side.

Chapter Text

Finally, finally Shen Qingqiu decides he’s not interested in mentally torturing Shen Yuan anymore – or maybe he still is, but he wants to revise his plans and pick another strategy for tomorrow since the godling won’t break this morning, that would be a perfectly logical behaviour for the scum villain. Dude is utterly relentless when he seeks to achieve something, be it crushing a dumbass who wishes to contest Cang Qiong’s strength and influence or breaking a hapless little lamb until he loses his shit and grows into the worst stallion protagonist who ever plagued the Internet.

« Shizun seems to really like your Highness » Ning Yingying brightly claims after the aforementioned scum villain left the room because of the flimsy excuse that he was a teacher and needed to attend his students, nice way to remind Shen Yuan the world didn’t revolve around him in spite of his godhood.

And frankly, sister, are you blind ? Are you lacking ears to hear the vitriol barely hidden in every word the Qing Jing Peak Lord has spat to Shen Yuan’s face ? And this is with the godling’s yin constitution, something ensuring living beings no matter the degree of sentience will at least hesitate before assaulting him !

Shen Yuan seriously wonders if Shen Qingqiu is genuinely able to unstick himself from his perpetual bad mood and general loathing for everyone not wearing his clothes – by the way, the dude knows how to dress, that’s almost scary how impressive he looks – surely that would be an improvement, don’t you know it’s bad for your stomach to be grumpy all the time ?

Well, the scum villain doesn’t feel ready to whip him bloody or throw him into a hellish dimension made to torment the damned souls imprisoned within, so maybe Ning Yingying isn’t actually wrong. For Shen Qingqiu, low-level hostility is very much a passionate love declaration – even his own martial siblings aren’t spared insults and death threats, just look at Liu Qingge !

Wait, is Liu Qingge still alive at this point in the timeline ? And if so, will Shen Yuan be allowed to meet him ? Because Peerless Cucumber has always been a mite curious about the Bai Zhan War God, mainly because he was rumoured to be the greatest fighter who ever hailed from the jianghu and because he had to be quite the character for Liu Mingyan to mourn him with such intensity and for so long.

Liu Mingyan ! She will be there too, on the Xian Shu Peak ! The best wife in Luo Binghe’s harem of three thousands beauties, far above all the others by virtue of avoiding them and their drama as much as she could, leaving on nighthunts instead and leading the life of a wandering cultivator when she could laze around in the palace ! Shen Yuan very much admired her, mostly because he was thoroughly useless and would never be able to emulate her choice. Also, maybe he would get to peek under her veil ? Even Airplane had been extremely evasive about her features, no matter how much his readers complained and threatened the hack author for a more detailed description.

Shen Yuan will have to find a way to go and meet them, when he will be able to escape Qing Jing – after exploring the Peak and marvelling at everything that will be burned in the future. What would you give for the opportunity to admire Pompeii the day before the volcanic eruption ? To traipse through the Hanging Gardens in Babylon before they were destroyed sometime around the first century AD ?

So many things to do while he’s waiting for the Zhao Hua Temple and the Tian Yi Overlook to realize Cang Qiong isn’t playing a tasteless joke upon them and send a delegation to establish how they’re supposed to get rid of him in a way that will see him land in the Queen Mother’s garden rather than somewhere in the Underworld. Well, at least Shen Yuan won’t get bored !

Especially with Ning Yingying swiftly claiming the position of guide and enlisting a fidgeting Luo Binghe as her assistant. Spending time with the protagonist in white lotus mode is a plus, the wee thing may not be the most knowledgeable about Qing Jing and Cang Qiong because of the bullying but he’s certainly docile enough and eager to please, a real shame it will be beaten out of him in the Endless Abyss.

Also, bullies are liable to think twice about harassing their favourite target in front of a guest – who happens to be a god. It certainly would hint bad manners for Qing Jing’s disciples, and the scholar’s peak pride themselves on being refined and well-versed in the elaborate politeness required to interact with highborns without offending anyone, the lone Qiong Ding surpassing them with their brand of training aiming to create politicians for the Imperial court.

Ming Fan is a petty, vindictive little shit, but he’s not stupid – for Luo Binghe’s misfortune – and bent on upholding Qing Jing’s reputation as clean and flawless. He will keep his goon squad in line as long as Shen Yuan will be there to judge his behaviour.

Of course, the teen likely will try and compensate by jumping on the baby protagonist when Shen Yuan won’t be there anymore, but you cannot win them all. And just maybe, Shen Yuan will be able to rescue Luo Binghe from the woodshed and ill-fitting garments by implying Shen Qingqiu is too poor to properly care for his students ?

The scum villain is petty and a child abuser from the worst kind, and this kind of man is very, very sensitive about losing face. He doesn’t care about his disciples as people with worth of their own, he cares about them because they showcase how good a teacher he is, how effective he is in making cultivators and scholars and artists out of peasant stock and bratty children of the nobility.

Seen from this angle, Luo Binghe very much is a walking, breathing accusation, the living proof that Shen Qingqiu can fail in his methods. It’s obvious from his gait, his torn garments and bad posture. Nobody would believe he’s flourishing in Qing Jing Peak, after laying eyes upon him.

Surely Shen Qingqiu must be aware of that – this trash would gild his own shit to prevent it from stinking, because people generally won’t look beyond the gold. He doesn’t fix Luo Binghe’s pitiful situation because this isn’t public, the white lotus staying on the peak and still not old or skilled enough to show his face to big events like the Immortal Alliance Conference.

But if someone suddenly is put in a good position to actually point a possible flaw in Qing Jing’s perfection…

Well, either Shen Qingqiu will stop treating his student worse than a mangy dog, or he will kick him out of Qing Jing. Shen Yuan frankly believes both possibilities are good.

Anything would be better than the half-demon’s current circumstances.

Chapter Text

« Young Master, this human girl is looking at me » Lingling comments on a slightly miffed tone.

Ning Yingying is effectively staring at the toddler-sized bunny – in the same way than meimei in front of a cat sprawled in her basket with her kittens napping all over her.

« I think she wishes to pet your fur » Shen Yuan casually suggests, and Ning Yingying immediately blushes.

« Oh ! That’s it ? I suppose I can allow it » the bunny muses.

Ning Yingying doesn’t need more to be said, she raises her hand and gently pats the long, fuzzy ears. A small squeal escapes from her throat.

« So fluffy » she breathes.

« I was born and raised in the Fragrant Palace » Lingling boasts, « my fur is far superior to a measly rabbit bred in the Mortal Realm. Wouldn’t you agree, Young Master ? »

« I couldn’t tell » Shen Yuan evades, « since I never got the opportunity to admire the pelt of a rabbit hailing from the Mortal Realm in this life. »

There, he’s not lying. But he really couldn’t tell if a xianxia bunny compares to a rabbit sold in a modern city as a pet, breeds are fated to change according the customer’s demand and the breeder’s whimsy after all.

« This Linling knows » the dark-furred bunny pouts. « Young Master loves his servants very much, or he wouldn’t cuddle us all day long. »

Luo Binghe shifts, his dark eyes focusing on Shen Yuan who desperately wishes to shrivel and disappear into a fistful of dust. Lingling ! How dare you destroy the image he’s trying to build ? Nobody is going to take him seriously if they believe he’s good for nothing but cuddling breathing plushies ! Alright, he’s very much useless, he knows that, but Cang Qiong operates under the illusion that he’s somewhat able to care for himself, and Shen Qingqiu is going to thoroughly demolish him for the sin of laziness if he manages to see beyond the lie, because the man is trash but he would jump on the opportunity to beat his disciples black and blue if he suspected them from not putting effort in their work !

Shen Yuan’s neck burns hot with humiliation as the baby protagonist keeps staring at him before hazarding a glimpse towards this treacherous bunny whose ears Ning Yingying is still petting. Jealous much from your hidden love lavishing attention upon an animal ? Even in white lotus mode, Luo Binghe is almost allergic to sharing – because when you grew up so poor you wondered if you would eat this evening and tomorrow, you develop hoarding tendences that would be envied by Scrooge McDuck.

« Yingying envies your Highness » the female disciple giggles. « How many rabbits are living in your palace ? »

Shen Yuan scrunches his brows.

« Do you know, I lost count » he confesses, prompting his attendant to snort.

« Young Master oughtn’t feel guilty, this lowly one doesn’t remember how many siblings she’s supposed to have. You can bet my honored parents will have given me younger siblings when we will finally go back to the Upper Realm. »

« Very true » Shen Yuan sighs, because Tu’er Ye and Wei Wei’s ambition appears to be the creation of a full-blown legion produced by their loins.

« Such a big family ! » Ning Yingying marvels, her eyes wide and stunned. « Yingying only has three older sisters... »

« Are they good to Disciple Ning ? » Shen Yuan inquires – that wasn’t written in Proud Immortal Demon Way , there was nothing about Ning Yingying’s family and it prompted many readers to speculate about her being an orphan, just like Luo Binghe and isn’t that the proof that they were made for each other ?

« Ey, sometimes they’re nice, sometimes they just annoy Yingying » the girl muses with a small frown, a mix of fondness and irritation er-ge often displayed when he talked about the other Shen siblings. « This is how sisters are, don’t you think, a-Luo ? »

The poor lamb obviously doesn’t enjoy to be dragged in such a conversation and mumbles something barely loud enough to be heard. He reminds his shijie he doesn’t have sisters, and if he has, he doesn’t know them.

Shen Yuan knows family is a touchy subject for the protagonist, who strongly suspected he was an unwanted child – truly, there was no other reason for throwing an infant in the river, just like you would throw your waste on the trash heap. Learning he was half a demon only comforted him in his opinion, mankind and demonkind couldn’t stand each other and the fruit of such an unnatural coupling had to be sired by force.

His only positive experience of family was built by the few, short years he had with the old washerwoman who took him as her own, and Luo Binghe desperately clutched to that. After becoming the Sacred Ruler and laying waste to the Middle Kingdom and the Demon Realm alike, the blackened lotus never made a mystery of the fact he couldn’t care less about in-laws or flesh and blood offspring when his wives finally managed to fall pregnant, he would consider family a few people selected by his rather stringent and nebulous criteria.

It was logical and understandable for him to behave this way after the life he led, but on the other hand it didn’t excuse parental neglect – the Sacred Ruler had never learnt his own children’s names, only bestowing upon them a number indicating how low or high they stood in the succession line, and didn’t even shed a single tear every time a prince or a princess was murdered by the harem’s bloody intrigues.

Quite frankly, Shen Yuan believes he’s in a much healthier situation – and he’s unable to be ever reunited with his first parents and siblings, while his second mother mourns her husband since several centuries to the point she cannot see her most faithful attendant and bodyguard’s devotion towards her might not be fully pure and platonic. This isn’t like they are willingly causing the mess, and Shen Yuan trusts in their care.

Shite, a-Niang won’t be happy with him. In daylight, this truth is stark, merciless and much scarier than in the dark of the night. She’s going to yell at Shen Yuan until his ears fall off, then she will ground him for several lifetimes, maybe forever, and he won’t be able to protest because he actually disappeared without any warning.

Lingling likely will be spared punishment, because rabbits have a funny conception of danger and how it rates anger. And she’s his attendant, so he will bear the blame for dragging her into his mess when she couldn’t muster the authority to tell him no.

Family ties are nice, but sometimes Shen Yuan regrets a bit how much his mother worries about him.

Chapter Text

« So, what are you kits studying on your lovely mountain ? » Lingling asks when Ning Yingying stops petting her fuzzy ears.

« Qing Jing is the scholarly peak » Luo Binghe intervenes, looking at the bunny as if she’s dumb and Shen Yuan suddenly feels the urge to tug on these wild curls with unneeded strength, but he’s a godling and above such pettiness, he truly is. « Shizun himself is a renowned master of the Four Arts... »

« Excuse me » Lingling immediately cuts him, her ears flattened on her back to hint at her annoyance, « there is Six Arts one needs to excell in before being considered worthy of being called a perfect gentleman. »

« It’s Four Arts » Luo Binghe nonetheless persists because he’s the protagonist and as such blessed with stubborness galore, « qin playing, chess, calligraphy and painting ! Cannot you count by yourself ? »

The bunny gapes and turns towards Shen Yuan.

« Young Master ! Do you hear this travesty ? The Mortal Realm is completely mistaken about the activities befitting a learned person ! » she wails with all the might gathered in his small lungs – and it’s more impressive than it sounds, when a scared rabbit wants to shriek in its death throes then the predator is going to suffer ringing in its ears for a good while.

Shen Yuan softly pats her soft pink nose to soothe her.

« Actually, there is overlap » he muses. « Just think, the qin epitomizes music, the chess is related to military strategy, calligraphy deals with the aesthetics of writing and the character cultivation... »

« Is your Highness alluding to the basis of education as developed during the Second Royal Dynasty ? » Ning Yingying inquires, her wide doe eyes curious and attentive. « Rites, music, archery, chariotry, calligraphy and mathematics ? »

Both Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe stare at her – after all, Ning Yingying is intended to be the resident airhead, but on the other side, she is Shen Qingqiu’s favorite disciple and the Qing Jing Peak Lord has a very low threshold for stupidity, just look at him whipping his students into bloody messes for not remembering their lessons right. So it makes sense for her to retain some knowledge – but it doesn’t mean she’s able to apply this knowledge in a practical way, rather than an academic setting…

Hong’er has idly mentioned there exists a world of difference between smartness and cunning, once, and of course video games will grant your character separate stats for intelligence and wisdom. Maybe Ning Yingying is an example of that – it certainly would explain why a student from the scholarly peak won’t stop stumbling into traps and ambushes and needing the protagonist’s help to escape alive.

Shen Yuan softly smiles at her and she blinks.

« Disciple Ning is very well-informed. Yes, such is the education this one has received. »

As he admits this, Shen Yuan remembers the many, many hours he was stuck in the library with Tu’er Ye and Wang Wang and Xiao Lan glaring at him for not being motivated enough, the many tears he shed in the gardens over his bruised muscles and aching fingers while Hong’er was drilling him again and again on arrow tricks and how to avoid falling from the chariot immediately after climbing on the moving platform.

He remembers cursing his tutors and complaining and bitterly wondering what was the point of dying and being reincarnated as a god if he still had to be homeschooled and molded into an approximation of a model citizen when he obviously isn’t suited to that.

It’s weird to look upon these memories with fondness, now, as Shen Yuan fully understands how annoyed yet supportive the rabbits and the giant bodyguard were regarding their tiny, lazy student who did his best to hide before his lessons and wailed a storm when he was discovered and had no faith whatsoever in his ability to bring more than shame upon the Fragrant Palace with his complete lack of skill.

Shen Yuan still is lacking in skill regarding the Six Arts, but at least he will be able to bullshit some experience if Shen Qingqiu wants to be nasty and asks for a live demonstration of his talents – that’s the kind of nasty, petty tricks the scum villain enjoys and nobody will call him out because everyone in the jianghu does it, they just claim it doesn’t happen because it doesn’t mesh well with their so-called righteousness. A true righteous cultivator isn’t supposed to be a bitch towards people they cannot stand, after all.

« Your Highness is extremely accomplished, then » Luo Binghe comments, his dark eyes focused on Shen Yuan whose nape is burning and cheeks threaten to flush.

« This lowly wretch is nothing but a sapling in the gardens that the Upper Realm is » Shen Yuan fires back in his most coldly polite tone. « He still needs to improve a lot before he can showcase himself and not shame his mother into turning her face away from him. »

Because the blackened protagonist enjoys dragging people he deems pretentious down, with Shen Qingqiu as the most prominent and horrific example, as he strongly identifies with the downtrodden and underdogs – wasn’t he one of them, as he started his path to blood-soaked infamy and endless papapa ? With Shen Yuan outright admitting he cannot hack it in spite of hailing from the Heavens, surely the half-demon will go easy on him if he ever decides to visit the Upper Realm, and he will because Luo Binghe couldn’t leave anything interesting alone and the prospect of yet another dimension filled with treasures and beauties ? No stallion protagonist worth his salt would be able to resist the temptation.

Ning Yingying is pouting.

« So even in the Heavens, one needs to study a lot unless your parents yell at you for not trying hard enough... »

Shen Yuan very much wishes to ruffle these cute twin buns she pulled her hair into. She might be a doom magnet, but Ning Yingying fully understands the plight of lazy brats everywhere ! Be you a godling or a demon or a human being, there’s no escaping the burden of homework and parental disappointment in your bad grades !

« Or you just have to be born a genius » Lingling casually points, « or for your parents to fret more about toiling in the palace than studies because you don’t belong to the nobility. That would work too, right ? »

Three pairs of eyes stare at the bunny who refuses to hint at some uneasiness, proudly sitting on her fluffy behind.

« What ? »

Chapter Text

« So your Highness is living in a palace ? »

In order to derail the current discussion away from potential landmines, Ning Yingying has decided to indulge in a very feminine foible, and this is asking Shen Yuan about his house. Really, he doesn’t know why Mama Shen and his meimei were constantly sighing when they watched their palace dramas with all the golden decorations and the beautifully tended gardens in which the lady of the house would sip her afternoon tea wearing so impractically fancy hanfus that she ought to ruin them to the point of having to throw the clothes after a single use, and that’s not a viable strategy if you want to avoid unecessary spending.

Well, unless you’re the seamstress or tailor – in this case, you’re likely praying for some poor sucker to never learn their lesson and keep coming back to you.

« This one wouldn’t call that a palace, really » he declares, hoping to save his skin in front of Ning Yingying’s curiosity.

Lingling washes her nose.

« Well, it is called the Fragrant Palace » she points, and Shen Yuan very much wants to complain about her treachery but heck, she’s far too cute and far too young for him to have the balls to do so.

« Only out of courtesy » he sniffs. « You have come to the Imperial Palace as my attendant, surely you can see our dwelling, for all its qualities, is a mere countryside estate and not as prestigious as the Highest Emperor’s own seat. »

Luo Binghe suddenly chokes. It’s very noisy and inelegant and Shen Yuan seriously considers the possibility of the boy actually dying from that because he’s wheezing and bowing at the waist, then the transmigrated soul remembers who exactly is fated to become the Sacred Tyrant of the Lower and Middle Realms. Looks like three thousands young brides are back on the wedding market !

Only for the half-demon teen to overcome his sudden respiratory trouble at the end. The protagonist halo is just too strong, ah !

On the other hand, Ning Yingying’s eyes are open so wide, this is a minor miracle for her eyeballs to stay in their sockets instead of falling on the ground and roll away in the grasses. Maybe it’s her cultivation level allowing this ?

« Your Highness… has visited the Highest Emperor’s palace ? » she asks, her voice soft as if she’s about to faint because she skipped breakfast and lunch and is now lacking sugar in her blood. « Have you seen the Highest Emperor ?! »

Oh, now Shen Yuan understands why the two young mortals are freaking out. Emperors were kind of a big deal in a xianxia setting, aren’t they ? They are supposed to embody the Heavens’ will in the Mortal Realm after all. And for the Highest Emperor, that’s even worse – for he is the supreme beginning, the limitless and eternal creator of Heaven and Earth, gifted with the towering and awe-worthy might fitting his status.

Shen Yuan – is quite unsure about how much is exaggeration, how much is sheer imagination, and how much is the stark truth when he hears about the Heavenly Lord. Even Nanny is rather tight-lipped about her co-ruler, but if the infamously trollish Xiwangmu does respect the man, then it expresses a lot about him.

« The Young Master wouldn’t bother his Imperial Majesty » Lingling immediately declares, her ears quivering at the very idea of Shen Yuan wasting the primordial emanation of the universal natural order’s time. « He’s more familiar with her Majesty, the Queen Mother... »

« We are not familiar » Shen Yuan mutters. « I entertain her when she’s bored of her menagerie and her pranks against the staff and the officials. »

« You – you spoke to the Queen Mother of the West, she who teaches Immortals and rulers ?! » Ning Yingying shrieks, her voice climbing so high it would shatter panes of reinforced glass and drives poor Lingling to go eye-crossed as she struggles to not drop unconscious on the ground.

Luo Binghe wheezes again. At this point, it starts to become a tad pitiful, really.

« This isn’t like this lowly one was given much choice » Shen Yuan complains. « When the Queen Mother thinks one is interesting and summons your wretched self, what are you supposed to do but attend her ? »

Female and male disciples concede the point as they awkwardly shuffle and exchange fretful looks. Shen Yuan very much wants to explain them that Nanny is nothing but an old biddy who left her plague goddess days behind her for eons and doesn’t care about etiquette when she plays the hostess because she’s far too old to be polite nowadays, but he has the rather depressing feeling that they wouldn’t register it.

He’s just in front of them, that should have reassured them about gods not potentially living up to their fame and reputation, because if there’s someone who doesn’t deserve godhood, this is Shen Yuan who bumbled his way to Immortality and phenomenal cosmic powers on a pitiful mistake. Still, they’re young and it takes a lot of time for youthful enthusiasm to fade – Luo Binghe suffered and endured years of Shen Qingqiu’s idea of education, and he couldn’t entertain the possibility of the Qing Jing Peak Lord being the worst kind of scum until he was remorselessly kicked into the Endless Abyss.

Even Ning Yingying wouldn’t believe the accusations against her beloved Shizun when they were first leveled by the Huan Hua Palace and Qiu Haitang at first. She actually went in the Water Prison to beg for explanations, for justifications – and Shen Yuan cannot curse Airplane enough for never giving any hint about what happened for these visits, Ning Yingying claimed Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t talk to her but he always found this claim slightly iffy, something in the narrative about how she held herself, more nervous than genuinely distressed.

Maybe the disgraced Peak Lord did tell her something, but what was it ? Threats of revenge, insults for not doing more to help him to escape his rightful punishment, or did he actually confess the dirty fantasies he was rumoured to entertain about his innocent and cute disciple ? Airplane, why would you refuse to write an arc on this question, that certainly would have been better than Luo Binghe fucking wives 34 to 194 because he stumbled upon yet another cursed treasure that sucked his lifeforce and needed to restore his strength through papapa !

Sometimes, Shen Yuan idly pondered the likeliness of him ripping a hole through space-time to strangle this hack author and personally deliver him to King Yama. Alas, he wouldn’t bet on his odds to find Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, after all this time he was pretty sure the guy died and reincarnated.

For him to stumble upon the hack author himself, that would be the very definition of contrived coincidence.

Chapter Text

A very curious fact about Daoism and Buddhism was the constant confusion that led a great deal of people to think they were one and the same. Wu Wang could understand how easy a mistake to do it was, with so many concepts mixed with Daoism in the early days of Buddhism in the Middle Kingdom. Why, many first converts actually originated from Daoist circles, seeing the Great Way as furthering their own path to enlightenment !

The old monk wouldn’t begrudge people for the confusion. There were more than one road leading to Buddhahood, one merely needed to find the path most suitable for oneself.

However, he would lie if he claimed he wasn’t a mite annoyed – just the tiniest bit – by the ongoing misunderstanding, but he strongly suspected it couldn’t be helped without a deep study about the Buddha’s teachings, translated and commented for it to spread in the country. How were you supposed to find the way when your guide would speak Sanskrit to you and refuse to switch to a dialect more familiar to you ?

This blessed day wouldn’t come for a long time, Wu Wang was deeply aware of it, and he was left to tend his flock with the other monks’ help and support. Sometimes, it was easy, and sometimes it wasn’t.

Sometimes, the Zhao Hua Temple would receive news that drove Wu Wang to wonder if he wouldn’t do best to enter into secluded meditation. The war against Tianlang-jun had been one opportunity to do so.

(and sometimes, mainly when it’s cold and dark, Wu Wang remembered the woman dying on the riverbank and the secrets she entrusted to him as she breathed her last)

Now, he was holding a letter in his leathery hands, and he wanted nothing more than prostrate himself in front of the wood-carved statue they kept in the innermost sanctuary and beg for help.

A god. A Heavenly Official descended from the Upper Realm and was currently dwelling in the Tian Gong Twelve Peaks. The divine offspring to the Moon fairy herself, she who endowed women with beauty and blessed lovers to enjoy a fate happier than hers.

Sect Leader Yue humbly invited the Abbot and several of his most trusted monks to the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, in order for them to help his Celestial Highness to go back to his native Realm. The Qiong Ding Peak Lord’s calligraphy was messier than usual, but Wu Wang wouldn’t blame the man for being less than perfectly composed.

It was hard to stay indifferent when one stumbled upon an omen. Now, how to interpretate this omen – would it be a blessing, or a calamity ? Would it be aimed at Cang Qiong Mountain alone, or at the jianghu as a whole since the Twelve Peaks were considered their best ?

« Sect Leader Yue might have been fooled. »

Wu Wang looked at the monk seated in front of him, who heard the news as the old Abbot carefully read the letter aloud to be sure he wasn’t hallucinating the characters written on the soft paper. Wu Chen’s mouth was pinched tight, so tight it barely looked like a mouth anymore and appeared to be a white slash in his face.

« It would be a very foolish criminal to impersonate one who hails from the Upper Realm » Wu Wang answered back.

Wu Chen’s face twisted even further in his confusion and his desperate need to deny the reality about to fall upon them.

« It still would be more reasonable than the assumption of a Heavenly Official actually being present in the Tian Gong mountain range » the monk insisted.

The old Abbot exhaled softly, tasting smoky incense on the back of his tongue. He would have to remind the novices tasked with cleansing the temple there was a difference between efficiency and waste, if they burned far too much incense, it would be tiresome and complicated for their usual supplier to accept their commission so soon after sending the last.

« What is the most unexpected thing about miracles, do you remember ? » Wu Wang asked to the man whom he grew to consider as a friend and confident, as they walked together the same path. « This is the fact that it’s possible for them to be. »

« That isn’t a miracle » Wu Chen grumbled, « that’s a bloody headache and a half. Even if we manage to expose this so-called god as a pretender, the whole jianghu will buzz about it until the next century. »

« Only one century ? How optimistic from you. Maybe you are finally unbending a little ? »

Wu Chen’s glare was worthy of an asura ready to trod endless innocents as he rampaged across the planes of existence. Wu Wang weathered it with a mere raised eyebrow.

« Might I leave you to reflect on the Universe’s hidden goal behind this new disaster and start to prepare our travel to Cang Qiong Mountain ? » the lower-graded monk ultimately gritted from behind his clenched teeth.

« Help me to the Hidden Records first » the Abbot asked as he slowly stood up, his kneecaps tingling after kneeling in a bad posture – he had been too shocked by the news he received to notice, and he would pay for it. « I need to seek what kind of ceremonies and tools are needed to confirm his Celestial Highness’ divinity. »

« That will take time » his friend pointed – but he wasn’t complaining about it, he wasn’t rejoicing over it, it was nothing but a fact he was saying.

Wu Wang snorted.

« Sect Leader Yue likely doesn’t expect for us to immediately appear on his threshold. This kind of thing, it cannot be rushed, it happens when it happens. And I do not think the Tian Yi Overlook will be there long before our arrival. »

Wu Chen narrowed his eyes.

« The letter never mentioned the Overlook. »

« Of course they will come. Isn’t that a matter regarding the Heavens ? The Mother Superior would consider it a grave dereliction of her duty if she wasn’t allowed to investigate the matter, and Sect Leader Yue is a man who doesn’t care for conflict between sects, especially when it’s easily handled with an humble invitation to help him with an unexpected guest. »

Truly, it was the most efficient way to proceed in order to face the upcoming storm. Yue Qingyuan was young still, but he was very wise and politically savvy – and Wu Wang wouldn’t refuse help to potentially send a deity back to the Heavens, one could never be too careful when dealing with the Upper Realm.

As long as the Mother Superior wasn’t bringing her most unruly nuns to attend her, everything should be alright – Wu Wang lately heard some unsavoury tales regarding the women joining the Tian Yi Overlook, mostly the drivel spread by men who couldn’t accept the idea of women living together and peacefully without a male authority to keep them in line.

However, when yellow novels started to circulate and your flock blithely admitted they bought said novels from a travelling nun asking for their opinion and promising to send them more in the days to come… well.

One couldn’t help looking at one’s neighbour differently, after learning this kind of detail, even when one was treading the path of mercy towards all living beings.

Chapter Text

« Begging for your Highness to forgive this Qing Jing Peak » Yingying pleads with big, shining brown eyes as she’s opening the path. « Surely we must look quite drab when compared to the Upper Realm’s peerless splendor. »

Their small group is currently walking around the mountain, because Ning Yingying remembered it was her weekly turn to inspect the ponds and check if they weren’t overfilling or attracted some unsavoury critter or stunk because something died in the water and hadn’t been eaten by the koi fishes and the frogs. It’s much more important a job than it appears to be – ponds are linked to Qing Jing’s feng shui, and are filled with spiritual water able to sooth one’s cultivation and qi, so one of them going bad could be disastrous for the whole ecosystem.

It wasn’t written in Proud Immortal Demon Way , and Luo Binghe actually looks surprised when Ning Yingying cheerfully explains her duty to Shen Yuan. Well, it’s easy to see why he would be ignorant on the matter, Shen Qingqiu and the other Disciples obviously considered him good enough for mundane chores such as cooking and laundry but unworthy to be included in a fully-fledged Disciple’s duties, everything about how the mountain was a haven for spiritually-gifted beings and how to keep it such.

Really, why the fuck did you accept this cute white lotus on your peak as a fucking Disciple if you’re bent on treating him as your slave, Shen Qingqiu ? Sometimes, Shen Yuan is just exhausted by people being utterly irrational. Alas, people as a rule refuse to use their brains, yes, even when they’re gods because people everywhere are nothing but that, people.

« This one actually finds Qing Jing quite enjoyable a place » the godling admits with a polite yet genuine smile.

Ning Yingying beams at him, and Shen Yuan briefly fears for his skin because crap, she’s so radiant that one could get a sunburn from being too close ! No wonder she managed to worm her way into the stallion protagonist’s heart and stay his First Wife in spite of the harem’s power struggles !

Fortunately, Shen Yuan is grown enough for sunlight to be a mere annoyance when he’s walking around in the day, otherwise he would have fallen on the ground shrieking and batting at his blinded eyes and since he’s trying to pose as a mildly competent Heavenly Official… well.

Nanny would find it very funny, and that’s yet another reason to keep the charade. He’s not giving the old biddy anything she would enjoy ! That’s his adventure, and that’s him living it ! That’s him who will suffer the first-hand humiliation !

« Could use a bit more flowers » Lingling mutters, as she ogles the bamboo.

« You are not allowed to eat the scenery when we are nothing but humble guests » Shen Yuan reminds her. « And I don’t think you’re allowed to eat your mother’s flowers when we are in the Fragrant Palace either. »

« Eh, when they’re about to wilt, Mama gives us her blessing, actually » the dark-furred rabbit shrugs. « It’s a treat, and Mama can grow the flowers again instead of letting them turn brown and grey and ruin the view. »

« Your mother… is a rabbit too, isn’t she ? » Luo Binghe ponders, his brows furrowed together. « And she’s allowed to tend to a garden, instead of ruining it ? »

Ah, of course the unexperimented protagonist would be baffled by a spiritual creature refusing to conform to animal stereotypes, he’s rather sheltered – in some ways, he did grow up in the streets and abject misery after all – when it comes to the world and how surprising and wonderful it can be.

Lingling snorts.

« Well, yes. Who would you ask in her stead ? Can you imagine Hong’er tending to the plum trees, Young Master ? It would be a disaster, I say ! »

Shen Yuan actually bites down on his lip – very slightly – to swallow a laugh, because this is a pretty ridiculous picture, the giant bodyguard fretting over the camellias and wondering why they don’t want to bloom in the right shades.

« Why that ? »

« Hm ? »

« Why would that be a disaster ? » Luo Binghe presses, blinking his dark eyes, and Shen Yuan very much wants to pat his fluffy curls, it should be a crime to look so completely lost, or maybe he will just boop his nose, that would be swell too.

« Because Hong’er is trained to strangle a baihu barehanded and fistfight a dragon-horse » Shen Yuan casually comments, « not for tending to a garden. Believe this one, it’s much harder than it seems. »

Shen Yuan still cannot understand how he killed the plants his baby sister offered him in order to put a hint of colour in his flat. He never forgot to water them, he swears !

« How strong ! » Ning Yingying marvels, because she might not have the same obsessive interest in fantastic beasts than the transmigrated soul, but everyone has heard of the White Tiger of the West and the longma, this is classical Chinese folklore. « Your servant is a very mighty one, your Highness. »

« The mightiest » Shen Yuan agrees, keeping his gaze focused on Luo Binghe. « And very devoted to mine and my mother’s protection. Indeed, the Highest Emperor could issue a command and Hong’er would only follow it if my esteemed mother granted him this right. »

Shen Yuan doesn’t want to threaten this fluffy little sheep, but he remembers what kind of fangs are hidden under the wool, what kind of wolf Luo Binghe will grow up to become. And he doesn’t joke with a-Niang’s well-being and health, never.

If he needs to traumatize the future stallion into leaving her alone by way of Hong’er, Shen Yuan won’t feel a shred of remorse. He’s pretty sure that the pale bodyguard would approve of his protectiveness, and don’t even make him start with the rabbits, they immediately would cheer on their precious Young Master’s filial piety.

Luo Binghe blinks anew and swallows a tad nervously. Either he’s scared, or he’s just baffled by the prospect of someone actively defying the supreme embodiment of the universal order because they feel no peculiar attachment to said authority figure.

Of course, Luo Binghe’s awe for authority will go down in the Endless Abyss with him, and after kicking and fucking the Demon Realm into submission, he will be the supreme authority, so.

People’s opinion about power and authority are very much influenced by their place on the social ladder, when you think about it.

Chapter Text

Obviously, Ning Yingying’s path ultimately leads her back to the schoolroom, because Qing Jing is supposed to be a place of teaching in which pampered young masters and mistresses are sent by their families in the hopes that they will gain some polish for their upcoming nuptials or won’t pitifully fail to sit the Imperial exams.

More precisely, Ning Yingying’s latest stop is a smallish pond right besides a teaching hall – strategy games, judging from the boards scattered within the place – and there are big windows to allow plenty of sunlight for the students.

Barely a fên after their arrival, a dozen of faces are right behind the windows and staring at their party – Shen Yuan struggles to not blush crimson under the attention, Lingling twitches nervously and seems ready to faint, and Luo Binghe appears ready to run away like if he was trying to outrun a blood-drinking river panther, a nasty critter that, one who lives in the most damp jungles of the Lower Realm and almost got the drop three times on the protagonist himself. Granted, Luo Binghe had just escaped captivity in the clutches of the frog demon tribe, getting poisoned everyday more than once to the point his Heavenly body was reaching his limits, so he wasn’t at his best but still…

Ning Yingying notices her fellow students’ gaping and looks thoughtful.

« Would your Highness agree to meet these lowly ones hoping to be worthy of Ascension one day ? » she casually suggests, and Luo Binghe scrunches his nose as if she waved rotten meat in front of his face and claimed it was good for human consummation.

« When they are gaping at our esteemed guest like that ? » the white lotus protests, and Shen Yuan feels it’s rather sweet from him – because it is a smidge embarrassing, being ogled like an exotic animal in a zoo, even if Shen Yuan is a god he’s supposed to have more dignity !

« They won’t stop gaping if we try to hide his Highness from them » the girl argues. « It actually might get even worse, since their curiosity will be frustrated. And frustration leads people to do very silly things, Shizun said so. »

Fuck, why do you have to be so smart, trash among the scum polluting the Internet ? Shen Yuan wants to shed tears of blood and beat his chest in sheer despair, but Tu’er Ye and Wang Wang and Xiao Lan and his other tutors are breathing down his neck, so he’s going to fake being a godling worthy of living in the Upper Realm or fucking die trying.

Well, maybe not die – he already did the gig, the experience isn’t the kind one would care about repeating.

« This one shall have pity on Disciple Ning’s fellow students, then. Shall we go ? »

Really, Shen Yuan have been warned about his yin constitution being considered attractive, but when he’s facing the results… Slack jaws and glassy eyes everywhere, even the hallmaster supposed to teach the class and prevent unruly teens from running amok doesn’t look very awake in spite of frantically blinking, that’s quite pitiful actually.

What does it say about Qing Jing’s level, for them to be that stunned in front of an unexpected guest dropping from the Heavens ? On the other hand, these guys have already proven their lack of worth by mistreating a cute little sheep they were supposed to nurture, so Shen Yuan cannot really claim he was expecting better from this lot.

Lingling quivers as she presses her furry, warm body against his leg, obviously wishing to vanish beneath his robes, as Ning Yingying is cheerfully introducing her and Shen Yuan to the classroom and explaining they’re staying on Qing Jing until they find a way to safely ascend back to the Upper Realm.

Luo Binghe discreetly glares at everyone in the hall. How many of these students bullied him, Shen Yuan wonders ? It cannot be all of them, especially the girls, more than a few Disciples in the outer level and almost everyone in the inner level were happy to ignore the protagonist as they would a menial or a slave, a living piece of furniture and yes that’s mean, but they weren’t kicking him up and down the freaking mountain either.

Speaking of girls, the female Disciples are ogling Lingling. They look kind of – not hungry, that’s a bad word to use around rabbits because they will panic and bolt, but they certainly look ready to pounce on the toddler-sized fluffy bunny and cuddle her to an inch of her life.

Shen Yuan cannot exactly fault them for having good taste, but they will have to ask for pets in a more private setting. Or for Lingling to grow used to crowds, something that’s unlikely to happen very soon in a place she barely knows, tough luck ladies.

The male Disciples keep looking at Shen Yuan, and the godling swears Luo Binghe’s glare would set fire to the wooden floorboards if it was possible. Wait, is the protagonist worried about Shen Yuan being potentially harassed ? Several of his bullies did comment on the future stallion having beautiful eyes and full lips after all – but on the whole, they sneered at his curly hair and his tanned complexion and his huge hands and feet, and called attention to his torn clothing and the stench of sweat clinging to his skin.

People are merciless when they think someone else is ugly, and they’re merciless too when someone else is beautiful – Shen Yuan never could bring himself to watch The Untamed with his meimei no matter how much she pleaded for him to enjoy the series with her, the dude playing Lan Wangji was so hopelessly, perfectly ethereal that the sickly shut-in wanted nothing more than kick the shit out of him, it should be a crime to be that gorgeous in spite of being chronically allergic to smiling and merely remembering the series is enough for the former fuerdai’s belly to fill with energetic butterflies.

That’s how you know a man is handsome, when a wholly straight dude is considering kissing you on the cheek even if he likes girls fine. His face is just so handsome it breaks the rules of gender preference like you break an egg for breakfast, and the consequences are just as messy when you’re the egg.

Shen Yuan personally likes his eggshell uncracked, and he really hopes he won’t crack someone else’s egg while he’s a guest of Cang Qiong – because some students, they appear dazed enough to commit a big, big blunder in his presence, the kind you think is a terrific idea when you have drunk two bottles of wine on your own.

Shen Yuan really hopes it won’t come to this extremity.

Chapter Text

Someone ultimately comments on Luo Binghe giving Shen Yuan a tour of Qing Jing Peak, or more accurately trailing behind Ning Yingying as she cheerfully drags Shen Yuan on her circuit around Qing Jing Peak. Said comment doesn’t sound very warm or approving.

Shen Yuan isn’t surprised – really, he was expecting for one Disciple to start sneering sooner because the protagonist in his current state is a first grade bully magnet, you would believe Airplane slapped a sign blaring kick the piss out of me and drink of my tears please in bigass flaming letters on this fluffy curly-haired sheep.

« Disciple Luo fulfills his duty as one studying on this Peak » Shen Yuan blandly declares, his tone flat and smooth as if he’s facing Nanny and repressing his desperate need to upend the whole teapot on her smug, smug troll smirk. « Surely all these distinguished youths arrayed in front of myself aspire to show half as much diligence. »

The glorious, glorious stench of awkwardness invades the classroom and the transmigrated soul that was one of the most dreaded gremlins to ever haunt the chatrooms internally cackles, take that you bunch of twits ! Nothing like calling you out on your bullshit to make you splutter and fall in the deep moat filled with giant alligators hungry for two-legged snacks !

Shite, he might have been exposed too much to Nanny’s influence through her letters and the prospect makes his heart shrivel a teeny bit, how is he supposed to cure that infection ? A-niang, save him ! Steal his mail and turn it into fertilizer for Wei Wei’s flower pots ! If he cannot read the Queen Mother’s words, surely it will contain the disaster ?

And now the hallmaster is talking, because everyone under eighteen years old – except for Ning Yingying and Luo Binghe and Lingling because being a rabbit and growing older still won’t erase the fact she’s less than three months old, holy fuck she’s an infant and she’s stranded with him when she really ought to be surrounded by her far too numerous siblings in the safety of the Fragrant Palace – is shuffling their feet or averting their eyes or dumbly chewing on their lips.

« Disciple Luo certainly is eager to please. If only it translated in skill he would apply to his studies, then he would be ranked among our best » the man announces as he – not quite glares at the curly-haired protagonist with his teenaged ungainliness and his lackluster confidence, but his eyes are devoid of sympathy and warmth.

Luo Binghe’s features shiver as if they attempt to twist in anger, his obsidian irises threatening to spill wetness upon his dirty cheeks, yet his face remains blank by some unholy miracle.

Shen Yuan smiles. It’s a small smile, it doesn’t even show his teeth, and it’s cold and empty as the dark between the stars.

« Once upon a time, the Queen Mother of the West asked this lowly one a riddle » he mildly reveals, and Ning Yingying’s breathing slightly hiccups right besides him. « What is a great teacher’s mark ? Is it to take a student and turn them into a scholar ? Or is it to take an illiterate urchin and turn them into another teacher, one who will spread the light of knowledge far beyond one’s reaches ? »

The hallmaster pales, his face taking the unhealthy shade of rancid milk.

« W-well, it’s important to be aware of one’s limitations. And even the greatest master cannot erase the flaws in a subpar jade » the man stammers.

Yin is stillness and quietness, and Shen Yuan’s qi is leaking in the air of the classroom which suddenly doesn’t feel much like a classroom and more akin to a tomb or the devastated countryside right after a raging flood, when even the world holds its breath out of respect for the death claiming the place.

« Are you » he kindly, oh so kindly asks, « questioning the Queen Mother of the West’s wisdom ? »

Now, the hallmaster seems ready to keel on the spot and die from a brain aneurysm. Shen Yuan decides to go for the throat.

« Cultivating is going against the flow – against the very Heavens. Cultivating is trampling over one’s limitations and making a miracle happen with one’s two own hands. Cultivating is attempting the impossible and succeeding in spite of the whole world rejecting the very possibility. You – all of you in this room – are studying cultivation in the hope to be deemed worthy of Ascending, and you dare to claim turning a sow’s ear into a silk purse is too hard ? When my esteemed mother’s most devoted retainer spat on his fate in order to serve her ? »

The disciples are gaping, a bunch of starfishes beached on wet sand and suffocating, looking at him like he’s the wanderer casually wandering around and picking one among their pitiful mass to be thrown back to the ocean and another tomorrow spent alive. Shen Yuan notices that as he would notice a mote of dust in his shoe – barely worth of his attention, especially as he delivers what’s left of his speech.

« If a teacher fails to give their student a craving for learning, a wish to improve oneself, then the failure is entirely the teacher’s and the dishonour their alone to bear. A true teacher shapes children into rulers and Immortals whose name makes the Heavens tremble when uttered. Such a teacher, would they relent in front of a measly urchin unable to write their own name ? Or would they see this urchin as a trial for them to face, the flawless jade waiting for their hand to carve a masterpiece ? A true master isn’t lazy, and won’t indulge in easy tasks when they can triumph over hardness ! »

Wang Wang, do forgive this wretched Shen Yuan for shamelessly plagiarizing your impassionated speech ! But it was so awe-worthy to hear, how determined this fluffy rabbit was to turn his Young Master’s sorry butt into something approximating a proud godling that wouldn’t shame his mother for several millenia to come, and truly your oratory skills need to be shared with the Middle Realm !

Lingling won’t betray him, she wasn’t even born when her much older brother gave this beautiful rant. He can feel her furry weight leaning against his leg, soft and warm and comforting and a reminder of the Fragrant Palace, of his home in this weird new dimension.

The hallmaster is sitting down, utterly vanquished, and Shen Yuan struggles to not indulge in demonic laughing, that would be just mean and exactly what Nanny would do, he’s not mimicking her even if his life depends on it.

The old biddy would find it far too funny and gloat for sixty decades.

Chapter Text

« Your Highness » Ning Yingying almost whispers and her eyes are disturbingly starry, « you were magnificent in there. »

After verbally gutting the hallmaster, Shen Yuan decided he needed fresh air and left the building to backtrack the path until he reached a nice little pond, this one with something looking like ducks nesting in the reeds. Also because it was badass to leave your weeping opponents in the dust while you went away without even throwing a look behind your shoulder.

Shen Yuan the boss-ass bitch. He kinda wants to giggle – alas, he’s not alone so he’s not allowed to indulge his shameful tendences.

Lingling on her own would be alright, she’s his attendant and every single rabbit calling the Fragrant Palace home is deeply aware that their beloved Young Master is a walking, breathing disaster who’s kept alive through their constant efforts. But Lingling isn’t alone, since there’s two little sheeps fancying themselves guides for the Upper Realm’s denizens trailing after them.

Ning Yingying looks like she wants to ask for a picture with Shen Yuan, and make him autograph the picture. Please, girl, you’re knocking at the wrong door, that’s Shen Yuan’s mother who’s the pop idol ! Even if the godling apparently has some family resemblance with her, there’s no denying Chang’e is much more beautiful than her lazy, still growing offspring who needs to focus on his dance routine to not screw it up in spite of years of training !

Still, Ning Yingying is nothing when compared to Luo Binghe. The teenaged protagonist – well, in his previous life, Shen Yuan got to see fanart and official art of Luo Binghe with various conquests of his, three thousands beauties in the harem allowed people to churn a fuckload of pictures and posters, and the Heavenly Demon has a face made to look hungry when he decides to bang some gal mindless. Very handsomely so, but still hungry, and that’s not nice at all, staring at a sister like if she’s a piece of meat.

Luo Binghe – that ungainly child in his ripped and stained clothes, messy curls trying to spill out of his ponytail – doesn’t stare at Shen Yuan as if the godling was a prime beefsteak. He’s staring as if Shen Yuan is the whole cow and her twin calves, ready to be butchered and swallowed bloody and raw without even being cooked first. Very unhygienic, that.

Also very unsettling. Binghe ! Your teacher hasn’t kick-dropped you into the Endless Abyss yet, you’re reading way too far in the story for your current level ! Be a sweet little white lotus for your shijie to spoil, it suits you so much better !

And ! This Shen Yuan is male ! There’s no heaving breasts to find under his robes, no peach blossom for the heavenly pillar to defile ! You might be confused by the moon godling’s yin aura, but you will be called to ascend as the greatest stallion who ever trampled female hearts and feelings under your mighty hooves ! With hundreds of beauties to seduce and papapa into submission, why would you waste your time drooling after an old man who doesn’t even live in the same neighbourhood ? That would be silly !

Seriously, this stare is disturbing. Shen Yuan wants to jump into the pool and drown in the mud because it almost burns worse than sunlight on his sensitive, albino skin made for the night.

Then Luo Binghe yelps and tries to kick Lingling – who just bit his hand, she’s toddler-sized so that was the hand, the knee or the crotch and this last option is enough for a godling to shrivel in sympathetic pain – but Shen Yuan cannot very well let his fluffy, adorable, cuddle-sized bunny to be assaulted in front of him, she’s his  !

He sweeps her off in his arms before the foot can connect with the rabbit. Ning Yingying shrieks in surprise then dismay when she realizes Luo Binghe’s hand bears a nasty puncture mark, rabbit teeth are no joke.

« A-Luo ! Are you alright ? »

« That will teach you » Lingling haughtily sniffs in Shen Yuan’s protective embrace. « How dare you stare at the Young Master this way ? »

Shen Yuan is torn between kissing the top of her furry head, right on her fuzzy ears, and lambast her for attacking a child who didn’t do anything – yes, he was staring, and Shen Yuan felt uneasy about it, but it was only staring ! Luo Binghe wasn’t actively trying to lure Shen Yuan to his bed – that would be a very complicated endeavour since Qing Jing Peak’s whipping boy sleeps on dirty rags instead of a bed, and he’s not playing for the other team either, so really Shen Yuan has nothing to fear on the matter.

Ultimately, he picks the second option. Lingling is a baby still, but one day she will be fully grown and people won’t think her cute anymore, in spite of her being a rabbit so she’s inherently cute and everyone claiming otherwise is a filthy, filthy liar. She cannot throw tantrums forever.

« That was very mean, Lingling. You’re not allowed to bite people without a good reason. »

« The Young Master’s wellbeing is the only reason I need » the dark-furred rabbit fires back before lowering her voice. « And his qi is wrong. »

Wait. Is she able to feel Luo Binghe’s demonic inheritance ? Is that because she’s a rabbit, a prey animal who needs to peg what kind of predator is likely to eat her first ? Is that because she was born in the Upper Realm and as such opposes the Lower Realm with every inch of her tiny, fuzzy body ? It might be both, what a possibility !

Shen Yuan would like to question her further and unravel the mystery, yet his hands are tied. If he exposes Luo Binghe as a Heavenly Demon, then the whole plotline will be derailed and there won’t be a Sacred Ruler for the Lower Realm since Cang Qiong will kill or seal the fuck out of the protagonist before he will grow in his strength.

Sure, Proud Immortal Demon Way is a trashfire not even worthy to be shat upon, but it remains a story . And gods…

Gods are born from stories and tales – born from mankind when people started using words and named things that always existed in the world, yet weren’t truly seen and understood by the living.

Gods are narrative constructs, just like the protagonist in a novel. And the very idea of interfering with that, to destroy a narrative…

Shen Yuan doesn’t feel sick. He cannot be sick after being reincarnated by a mistake in a Heavenly Official’s healthy body, viruses mercilessly crunched and annihilated by his divine blood.

But he remembers how it feels to be sick, and it’s very muck akin to that current sensation in his gut.

Chapter Text

When Xiwangmu snapped back to reality – well, to her current place of residence, reality could be very subjective sometimes – she couldn’t have determined if it had been a fên or a kè or a shichen or even a whole year. The curse of being so old, time became water and flew between her fingers.

« Where is the little one ? » she asked, blinking her poisonous green eyes.

« He left, my Queen » Xuan’er, her faithful handmaiden doubling as her bodyguard in spite of the fact that the Queen Mother could erase almost everything from existence by flicking a finger, answered. « It’s been barely a moment. »

Yes, the little brat left – it had been important for him to do so, wasn’t it ? Xiwangmu breathed and cast her senses out.

The world was her garden, and everything in her garden was hers to command. Every single dewdrop, every single verdant blade of grass, every single beast wandering under the shivering waterfalls of blossoms and leaves – all of this, hers. Part of her.

Shen Yuan wasn’t in her garden anymore. No hint of moonlight anywhere, not even in this tiny, furry shape that the rabbit attendant was.

So. The boy had disappeared right under her nose.

Xiwangmu wasn’t surprised. She remembered the prophecy spoken by the Empress of Mount Tai, she for whom oracle bones laid the secrets of fate bare.

He shall grow in grace and beauty, beloved by all who know him… But on the eve of his sixteenth birthday, he shall fall from the Heavenly Realm and meet a demon from the most disgraced and unholy bloodline.

Chang’e had been horrified by her child’s fortune, and nobody in the Imperial Palace could blame her – who would have wished for their own flesh and blood to suffer such a trial, being stranded away from home and forced to suffer a wretched being from the demonic bent ? Yet the Moon fairy dared to believe she would manage to invalidate the prophecy by running away in the countryside and lock her son tight in her palace.

Silly girl. When a prophecy was spoken, then it would unravel. Such was the power of a narrative – the prophecy would create the story, and a protagonist would have to step up and live through the plotline. So it was, and so it would continue to be.

Maybe humans could go against fate – chaotic creatures as they were, they never liked when they were told to do such and such thing. Sometimes they would succeed, but it took its toll upon them. As for the gods, meta-constructs who couldn’t escape their legend since it was the myths and tales that molded their shape ?

A panther couldn’t erase their own spots. A god couldn’t escape their narrative. At least, Shen Yuan had been given a choice. He might kill or be killed by his fated demon, he might permanently be exiled from the Upper Realm or go back there, he might loathe the experience or find it enjoyable, but it would be his choice .

No narrative to influence the godling. Xiwangmu really wondered if it was a consequence of the misfile, or if it was because Shen Yuan’s previous incarnation had been human. Maybe it was both, maybe it was neither. Who could tell ?

The Divine Mother sighed and cracked her neck.

« Well, now to explain this silly girl that her child disappeared from my gardens. How much do you want to bet she will forget her manners and try to choke the life out of me ? »

« Begging my Queen’s forgiveness but that’s a sucker’s bet » Cainü in her nine-coloured gown snickered. « The Moon fairy loves her whelp more than life itself, she’s guaranteed to set fire to your garden. At the very least. »

« Don’t joke about it » Xuan’er moaned as she rolled her eyes, « I will have to prevent the damage from spreading. And fist-fight her personal guard because he will help her to rampage across the Jade Mountain. »

« Aren’t you kinda crushing on him ? » Sunü fired back, idly plucking at her qin. « Hit him hard enough on the head, then drag him to your bed. After spending the evening with you, it will be a miracle if he can remember his own name. »

« In order to seduce someone, he has to notice me » the tanned warrioress pouted. « And he’s so infuriatingly devoted to his mistress that I could strip naked and prance around him, he wouldn’t even know I am there. »

« Well, Chang’e is the one girls pray to be endowed with beauty » someone whispered in the flurry of handmaidens, « how are you supposed to compete with that ? »

« You don’t. You – just don’t. »

Xiwangmu couldn’t refute this last claim. Ascending to the Upper Realm had its perks, one of them being great skin and fabulous hair no matter what, and a plain Heavenly Official would have been considered a calamitous beauty back in the Middle Kingdom. But Chang’e wasn’t merely beautiful, she was the goddess who was introduced to the Upper Realm as she still was mourning her husband and was fresh off giving birth after spending a very long time stranded away from civilization and proper toiletries and grooming tools, and she nonetheless made the Highest Emperor pause at her sight.

Chang’e barely cared about embroidered dresses or painting her face or burdening her arms and neck with silver and jewels, and still she stole the breath of the Imperial Court when she was summoned to dance at the steps of the throne.

And Shen Yuan, he was her child indeed. Xiwangmu actually would daresay he had the potential to surpass his mother, since he wasn’t in perpetual mourning. Yes, Chang’e had suffered and it gave her beauty character and depths, but there was something about the innocent pleasure her son couldn’t help showing in front of the Queen Mother’s beasties, the youthful enthusiasm he had for the prospect of traveling one day – Shen Yuan was pure and new still, and for the very old soul the Divine Mother was, it was quite refreshing to behold and keep close.

And now this peerlessly handsome child had fallen in the Middle Kingdom. In a place that believed people were lucky when they reached two decades of life without losing a teeth or a finger. That would be unadulterated, glorious chaos .

Xiwangmu felt the urge to cackle rise in her throat. She needed to send a message to Guanyin and share the news, the bodhisattva still was waiting on her monk to start his pilgrimage with these three dumbasses, they would drink tea together as they watched the mess down there…

Wait, she still needed to summon Chang’e and explain how the Moon fairy’s effort to defy fate and prophecy had been useless at the end. That would involve more violence and screaming near her. Let’s see, would she do it right there, allowing Chang’e her privacy as she broke down, or would she do the reveal in the throne room in order to maximize the shock factor and hope that manners would ultimately prevail over the murderous urge ?

Doing it with the Highest Emperor’s courtiers in attendance would also ensure that rumors would spread, since palace courts everywhere were a nest for gossip fiends.

Ah, decisions, decisions…

Chapter Text

Since he thoroughly called one of the so-called teachers of Qing Jing Peak on his bullshit and utter uselessness, Shen Yuan isn’t surprised when Shen Qingqiu, the scum villain in all his scowling glory, appears with the intent to tell him something.

Alright, it’s fuzzy but the Qing Jing Peak Lord wasn’t the kind of dude who liked or even tolerated people crying on his shoulder because someone was mean to them – actually that was a major excuse of him to bully and abuse Luo Binghe further, the little lamb got slapped every time a hint of tears threatened to wet his cheeks – so obviously the good-for-nothing teacher wouldn’t dare to admit he had been publically humiliated by some wimpy outsider who physically appears young enough to be a junior Disciple, that would be committing a particularly painful suicide.

On the other hand, a Disciple cheerfully informing their Shizun of the incident in the hopes of gaining a little something – Shen Yuan can see that happening. And Shen Qingqiu would investigate the incident, because a wimpy, physically unimpressive outsider being critical of a dude he has in his employ is critical of Shen Qingqiu himself, and ancient xianxia cultivators can and will duel someone to death or worse because their face is so thin it cannot handle a heavy breathing in their general direction.

So Shen Yuan braces himself for the upcoming volley of accusations – barely veiled ones because the scum villain is passive aggressive like shit, Mama Shen’s many socialite friends would worship him as their new role model and the Internet would quiver in awe from his tongue-lashing skills – Luo Binghe realizes who is swooping down on their little trio and immediately pales, Ning Yingying perks up as some dumbass magpie about to get caught in a net because there’s a shiny glittering right besides the trap, and Lingling nervously cuddles her Young Master’s leg in a bid for comfort.

Then Shen Qingqiu opens his mouth, and what he’s saying isn’t what Shen Yuan is expecting, the scum villain apparently enjoys fucking with his brain even when he’s unaware he’s doing it, fuck his mother and eighteen generations of his ancestors with a magic pill that will make them shit porcupines.

« Yue-zhangmen has called for a meeting between Cang Qiong’s Peak Lords in order to explain the disturbance that took place on Qing Jing Peak early this morning. As the one responsible for said disturbance and a guest to the Sect for the near future, the Young Master Shen Yuan is expected to attend. »

… Alright, that’s pretty reasonable, when an idiot crashes his car in your front door, anyone would be pissed off and ask to know the dumbass’ name to sue the life out of them. Is the Fragrant Palace getting sued for the impact crater on the mountain and the ruined bamboo grove ? Shen Qingqiu certainly is petty enough for that, and he’s living on the mountain, and Qing Jing sings so sweetly in the back of his thoughts that Shen Yuan feels kinda bad about damaging it ?

The godling breathes out and composes his face. He’s going to face twelve Master cultivators on the track to Ascension, he needs to look the part of a dignified denizen of the Upper Realm instead of a pitiful country bumpkin desperately wanting to scream his head off until the world gives him a fucking break, no matter how much he wants to let loose.

His poor Lingling is already shivering against his leg, and she’s too sweet and cute to suffer the sight of her Young Master and only protector – not a very good one at all and he’s so sorry for that – losing his shit and going to pieces.

« Is this meeting right now ? » Shen Yuan asks with a serenity he’s far from internally feeling.

« It is » Shen Qingqiu curtly answers, and he turns back and starts walking away, obviously expecting to be followed.

Shen Yuan follows, because what is he supposed to do ? His recollections point at the regular monthly meeting between Peak Lords being held on Qiong Ding, there was a special hall for the occasion and also for emergencies asking for everyone to panic about the situation and fail to find a good solution, but he doesn’t know where the hall exactly is, this isn’t like Luo Binghe ever was invited to come, that was for Ning Yingying or Ming Fan as more proper representatives of Qing Jing.

In spite of that, Luo Binghe follows in the wake of Shen Qingqiu, Shen Yuan and Lingling – alright, he hesitated a mite but Ning Yingying took his hand and started dragging him and whew, for such a cute girl she’s quite casual about manhandling a boy, cultivation really is cheating when it comes to improve the physical health and stats.

The scum villain notices the white lotus’ attempt to infiltrate the meeting after ten steps.

« And where is Disciple Luo thinking he’s going ? » he hisses in clipped tones, so harsh that the baby protagonist noticeably shrivels.

« Answering Shizun » Ning Yingying chirps – oh, sweet girl, why do you insist on intervening when there’s trouble brewing, that would be laudable if it didn’t cause a mess every time, « his Highness wanted for Yingying and a-Luo to show him around ! So we are doing as he wants ! »

Thank you so much for throwing him under the bus, Ning Yingying ! And Shen Yuan is pretty sure the two ducklings were supposed to show him around Qing Jing Peak , not another peak !

Poisonous green eyes glare at the godling with the intensity of the Death Star’s killing ray about to lay waste to Alderaan. Not a wonder that even the protagonist in his infancy was reduced to a quivering wreck in front of such a glare !

« Young Master Shen certainly has strange tastes » the Qing Jing Peak Lord sneers from behind his fan.

Shen Yuan stares back with all the shamelessness of a sickly fuerdai who knows he won’t live long beyond his twentieth birthday and has far too much money to care about other people commenting on his weird literary choices.

« I am aware, yes. Even the gods will find themselves fond of someone without the slightest idea of what could warrant such a feeling. »

Exhibit A, Shen Yuan’s mother in this second life of his, Hong’er and all the rabbits calling the Fragrant Palace home. Seriously, after helping to raise him, they ought to know he’s hopeless and in spite of that, they won’t stop doting on him.

Shen Qingqiu keeps glaring at him for an uncomfortably long time before tsking and deciding to pursue his path. Does it mean Shen Yuan scored a point against the scum villain ?

It doesn’t feel much like it.

Chapter Text

So Qiong Ding Peak has a voice too – something more regal and stately than Qing Jing, the kind of respectful awe tinged with wariness you get to feel when admiring a deep canyon or a pack of wolves because this is something impressive yet very much not safe and it doesn’t exactly care about becoming safe.

Shen Yuan thinks he will be quite happy to dwell on the Scholarly Peak while waiting for his mother to bring him home. Not as intimidating, it will wreck havoc on his sleeping schedule if he has to share a bedroom with a huge sentient thing with far too many commonalities with a big, big predator, and Shen Yuan takes his sleep very seriously indeed. That’s the only hobby he was allowed to indulge in his first life without his parents and siblings gently mocking him for being weird.

Anyway, they are in front of the meeting hall’s doors, and Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even knock before opening them – that jackass, Shen Yuan couldn’t even put Lingling down, she started tiring herself on the way because a bunny has no stamina whatsoever and Shen Yuan wouldn’t abandon her without a care so he had to carry her and now the twelve Master cultivators ruling Cang Qiong are going to see a so-called godling cuddling a fluffy rabbit as a giant soft toy. Way to leave an impression, boy.

Shen Yuan firmly tramples his need to shed tears of blood. If anyone deserves to feel bad in this room, that’s the scum villain who won’t clothe one of his junior disciples properly, with Luo Binghe’s uniform almost bursting out at the seams ! And there’s nothing wrong with cuddling Linling because she’s cuddle-sized and adorably cute and nobody here will get the privilege to squish her against their chest, because Shen Yuan is a petty gremlin when he’s in a bad mood.

Since Lingling is busy dozing with her soft fuzzy nose buried in Shen Yuan’s nape, she’s spared the sight of a dozen – wait, not exactly a dozen, some Peak Lords must be on a mission or in secluded cultivation – Master cultivators gaping and looking rather dumb, a bunch of pigeons that flew right in a closed window and are stunned from the shock. Shen Yuan actually swears one outright fainted and he cannot help feeling disappointed. On the other hand, that’s the setting for Proud Immortal Demon Way , this webnovel was a major disappointment to everyone who ever laid their eyes on the cover and read further than the Endless Abyss Arc.

But you would think a cultivator aspiring to Ascension would be made of sterner stuff ! Shen Yuan’s mother is the xianxia equivalent of a pop idol, he’s not that impressive ! Seriously, the Qing generation’s odds to tread the silver bridge just took a major nosedive, if they cannot handle a measly godling without any impressive title or sanity-defying stunt to his name.

Except maybe for Shen Qingqiu – and Shen Yuan won’t touch this possibility with a thirty foot long pole, thank you very much – and Yue Qingyuan who politely smiles his blandest smile ever, truly this dude is worthy to be a politician in the viper’s nest that the jianghu is.

« This Sect Leader hopes your Highness found his lodgings to his taste » he pleasantly says, his tone just as mild as his expression.

Shen Yuan schools his own features into marble. When unsure, it’s better to answer with cool politeness.

« Thanking Sect Leader Yue for his worry and thanking Peak Lord Shen for the lodging. But this one ought to be called Young Master, if you please. This one is no relation to the Highest Emperor, after all. »

A weak squeak comes from one of the disciples present in the room – there’s always one or two taking notes for their Shizun or preparing refreshments – but Yue Qingyuan’s expression doesn’t falter.

« As Young Master Shen wishes, then. »

A Peak Lord in tan and beige robes, scrolls and paper sheets spilled on the table in front of him, looks at Shen Yuan as if the transmigrated soul has personally kicked his puppy and stole his lunch money while laughing like an assholish jock and that’s just rude – mainly because Shen Yuan has nothing of a jock and why would he injure some poor doggie, it’s a sure ticket for the worst level of Hell because animals don’t get cruelty at all.

« WTF » the dude mutters, and Shen Yuan didn’t just hear that , he just didn’t, « a complete OC, even for that novel, what went wrong ? »

It’s not even Chinese. It’s English. Mangled and the accent is horrendous, but it’s English and Shen Yuan’s head fills with white noise.

He stomps towards the mousy-looking Peak Lord who squeaks and shrinks as if he wants to dive under the table, but if he dares, Shen Yuan is going to dive after him, he’s not letting this potential opportunity escape him.

«  Proud Immortal Demon Way  » he barks, his heartbeat thundering in his ears,

The mousy dude gapes.

« Wha – where did you heard of my novel ? »

His novel… ?

Oh. Oh, this fuckwad. Blood is going to run and tears are going to be shed, that Shen Yuan swears.

« Young Master Shen… ? »

Yue Qingyuan, so nice of you to remind this godling of your existence. Shen Yuan turns towards the Sect Leader what he hopes to be a pleasant smile and not a bloodthirsty snarl.

« Sect Leader, might this Shen Yuan trouble you for borrowing a soundproof room. I would have words to say with this man, he appears to be an interesting fellow. »

« Interesting fellow ?! » someone splutters, he’s ready to bet it comes from the frowny lady in purple robes and her hair pulled in a very tight bun. « Shang Qinghua ?! »

Shang Qinghua, Shang Qinghua ? The traitor to Cang Qiong, strangled by Mobei-jun when the blackened protagonist’s favoured general decided his human spy had been too mouthy or outlived his usefulness, that wasn’t really clear…

Well, if it was supposed to make Shen Yuan hesitate, it failed so much that it pushed him in the other direction. Let’s get down to business, the target deserves the interrogation seance no matter his true identity !

Shen Yuan keeps smiling at Yue Qingyuan – a good tactic with his da-ge, the man would fold in a few seconds because he had all the backbone of an overcooked noodle when he was supposed to refuse his younger siblings anything.

Yue Qingyuan folds, just as he’s prone to do when Shen Qingqiu snaps at him – which happens with a depressing regularity in the story, really.

Perfect.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua whines in protest when the door closes behind him and the seals for soundproofing activate, trapping him alone in the room with a godling donning a very worrying smile.

« So ! » Shen Yuan cheerfully comments, with a glibness he doesn’t feel at all. « Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky ! »

« Shit » the mousy Peak Lord breathes, « you really have read my novel. »

Shen Yuan explodes.

« Read ?! Read implies something of literary nature, and Proud Immortal Demon Way doesn’t belong to a library but a garbage collector ! » he rants and it’s been so long since he got to do that, he doesn’t know if he will manage to stop. « Plot points dropping as flies ! Characters with all the personality of a broiled lobster ! Prose so purple it verged on ultraviolet, I had to put on sunscreen or I would have died from acute skin cancer… ! »

« Wait » Shang Qinghua yells, waving his hands as a drowning man signaling where the rescue team is supposed to throw the rope. « All this vitriol, all this rage, there was only one guy that went ballistic like that in the comments – you’re Peerless Cucumber ! »

« And you’re the hack author who fucked up a perfectly good worldbuilding with shitty porn that wasn’t even anatomically accurate ! » Shen Yuan snarls back. « Your protagonist wasn’t having sex with women, he was fucking fountains that wouldn’t stop gushing liquid ! »

« Cucumber bro ! » Airplane joyfully shouts, almost looking like he wants to hug Shen Yuan – if he tries, Shen Yuan will find a way to feed him to the Fragrant Palace’s bunnies. « My greatest critic, payer of my rent ! What the fuck are you doing there ? You’re completely messing my story, I would remember if I had written gods in a chapter or another. »

« What a fucking miracle it would be » the godling sniffs. « Sometimes, you didn’t even bother with remembering details, I swear you gave four different backstories to the Moonlit Beauty’s Pained Truth Cursed Mirror, and it only appeared three times... »

« Meh, did you try writing after drinking a coffee too much when it’s two in the morning and your deadline is closing fast and also your fingers are twitching so much you just have to write something, even if it’s garbage » Airplane grouses. « Not funny, that – and don’t try to divert the conversation ! You are fucking hard with the setting, my System is bluescreening as you can’t imagine and shrieking in my ear, thanks for the headache by the way. »

Shen Yuan blinks.

« System ? What System ? Like the magical screen from the isekai ? »

« Because you don’t have one ? » the other transmigrated soul complains. « Now, that’s unfair. You get to be a god and you don’t have some freaky sentient cloud breathing down your neck because you’re acting out of character... »

« Oh, I think Nanny mentioned these » Shen Yuan finally remembers. « Apparently King Yama wanted to modernize a bit the Underworld but it wouldn’t stop glitching and messing everything and he’s still cleaning up after them. »

Airplane dramatically groans and hangs his head.

« Great, my afterlife was fucked by a bureaucratic mishap. I formally file a complain against King Yama, then ! Your mother is the Moon goddess, isn’t she ? You can tell her to give my message to her workmate. »

« My mother is a pop idol, that’s not the same thing as the ruler and supreme judge of the Eighteen Hells » the godling points. « And frankly, I don’t see why I am supposed to care about you being stuck in your crappy papapa fest. »

« Cucumber bro ! » the mousy Peak Lord gasps, grasping his jacket’s lapels as if he’s having a heart attack. « What a meanie you are ! Not even a drop of solidarity for your fellow modern soul ? »

« Do you really want an answer to this question ? I would rather inflict myself a tea party with Nanny and she’s insufferable when she’s in a trollish mood, the old biddy... »

Thinking of it, Nanny would utterly love reading the garbage written by Airplane when he still was allowed to pollute the Internet with his utter absence of talent for coherent narrative and character building. She would pee herself laughing, and adore it unironically.

And if she loved the shitfest that Proud Immortal Demon Way was, she would want to talk to the author. She would torture Airplane instead of Shen Yuan when she wanted to have fun.

« You know what, I think we made everyone wait long enough » Shen Yuan blithely declares.

On these words, he sashays towards the door and opened it – almost directly in the face of Yue Qingyuan who’s gently smiling and doesn’t look like he was busy eavesdropping while his fellow Peak Lords were shamelessly hanging around, waiting for him to give them the last news.

« Sect Leader Yue » the godling blandly greets the Qiong Ding Peak Lord.

« Young Master Shen. I trust your interview with Shang-shidi was fruitful. »

Shen Yuan smiles, butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

« This unworthy one actually considers introducing Master Shang Qinghua to the Queen Mother of the West. He’s the kind of individual she would enjoy to meet. »

In order to mercilessly bully him, of course. Airplane looks extremely bulliable in this new body of his, the old biddy would reduce him to tears in a jiffy !

And Yue Qingyuan isn’t smiling anymore – you would believe Shen Yuan just slapped him with a stinky fish right now. Behind the godling, Shang Qinghua is choking on his own tongue and in the meeting hall, a teacup breaks down on the floor as a disciple wearing the light green robes of Qian Cao drops in a faint.

Yeah, maybe it’s a bit mean to unleash the Divine Mother on a hapless mortal, but Xiwangmu swears up and down she left her days of plague goddess long ago, so she won’t maim Airplane too much. Physically, he means to say – mentally, Shang Qinghua is liable to be traumatized for what’s left of his cultivation-enhanced lifespan, maybe forever if he manages Ascension but Shen Yuan isn’t holding his breath about the latter.

Even if it would be kinda sweet to have someone else to bemoan the lack of Internet and easily managed hairstyles, when nobody really expected something from them. Be them a rabbit butler disappointed in their charge for his laziness, or a glitchy System harassing a reborn soul whose transmigration it fucked up.

Alright, so maybe Shen Yuan isn’t that opposed to the idea of making friends with Shang Qinghua, after all.

Chapter Text

Really, the more Shen Yuan sees of the Cang Qiong Mountain Peak Lord, the less he’s impressed. No wonder the blackened protagonist slaughtered all of them, it might have been a service to the country after all.

Except for Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu and Mu Qingfang who’s busy checking on the poor disciple that fainted earlier – poor little lamb, maybe she ought to have pilfered one snack or two when nobody was looking, low levels of sugar in the blood are no fun – they’re clucking and running everywhere in the meeting hall like a bunch of turkeys the day before Thanksgiving. While Shen Yuan is judging them and cuddling Lingling close to his chest, the bunny looks very grouchy and obviously unimpressed by the mortals’ self-discipline.

Tu’er Ye would disown them on the spot if they were his offspring, because the grim-faced rabbit runs a tight palace and prides himself on the efficiency displayed by the servants tending to the Moon fairy. Any organisation has to operate as a well-oiled machine, if one cog freaks out then everything will go boom and someone is going to be hurt.

« Young Master Shen, this is… ! N-not that I am complaining about your choice, but if the Young Master could explain why Shang-shidi ? »

The godling bites his tongue in order to prevent a frustrated scream from deafening the whole building, he’s pretty sure there are innocent disciples and teachers and hallmasters milling around and doing their jobs near, and he’s not indulging into collateral damage, he won’t. He’s supposed to be a responsible deity, not one of these Greek jackasses – looking at you Achilles for being so hot-blooded that the other warriors involved in the Trojan war were terrified of being killed by your hands, even when they fought for the same cause as you.

« What is there to explain ? » he decides to answer in his most aloof and bored voice, his eyes as glazed as possible because that’s a sure way to make people feel uneasy and desperate to escape the conversation. « One merely has to closely look at Shang Qinghua and listen to him, then his true worth quickly becomes apparent. »

Airplane pitifully squeaks when a dozen pairs of eyes ogle him, painfully aware of how wretched he is as a specimen of human being.

« Truly, Young Master Shen’s gaze must be exceptional » the scum villain sneers, « in order to find jade where everyone else would only see clumps of dirt. »

Alright, someone likely tattled about Shen Yuan publically and verbally skewering this good-for-nothing teacher, but if the Qing Jing Peak Lord hopes to put Shen Yuan on the defensive, he’s utterly wrong – Shen Yuan has no chill whatsoever.

« When one has studied human nature as this one did, as long as this one did, of course one would be familiar with people and how much they are worth » the transmigrated soul who once was a major consumer of webnovels in which characters ran all the gamut in morality, motives and childhood trauma, casually says.

Shen Qingqiu haughtily sniffs, his poisonous green eyes narrowed in suspicion – for fuck’s sake, cultivation or not, that dude really should be horrendously wrinkled from scowling and frowning so much, with Yue Qingyuan as your Sect Leader, you cannot try and claim you don’t know what a smile is !

« Young Master Shen, if you please, what kind of silk is that ? Such smoothness, so light, even the blue-furred winged tarantula cannot produce such an exquisite material ! »

Shen Yuan cannot put a name to the lady in heavily embroidered black robes and crimson eyeliner who’s staring at his sleeve as if she barely keeps on check the shameful urge to jump on the godling and rip his clothes – and he would be very grateful if she abstained, even if she appears more interested in the dirty robes than in Shen Yuan’s nakedness and public humiliation – Proud Immortal Demon Way barely focused on Peak Lords beyond the human trash that would be turned into a human stick by the protagonist, heck, half of them don’t even have a name or a description !

All he knows about that lady is that the mildly crazed expression in her eyes is very reminiscent of Mama Shen and Shen Yuan’s meimei when they were about to go on a shopping spree, because the prices had been slashed in half and just look at this dress, just look at these shoes, that would an heresy to not buy it and by the way, Yuan’er, you really need something else in your wardrobe than faded sweatshirts and pants ripped at the crotch from age !

Truly, some things cannot be fought without losing your dignity. In such circumstances, it’s far better to fall back on the esteemed and proven tactic of tactical retreat, any male having a mother or a sister or another kind of female relative winds up learning this. Shen Yuan clutches his vulnerable Lingling – because what woman can resist a fluffy critter that conveniently is cuddle-sized and cuddle-shaped – and turns his unemotive face towards the Sect Leader whose face is frozen in smiling blandness in what appears to be a pattern for when Yue Qingyuan doesn’t know what to say, not really a bad strategy.

(a strategy da-ge really enjoyed using and abusing, he had a mouth made for smiling)

« If this one isn’t mistaken, Qiong Ding Peak is famed for his spiritual caves » he blurts, hoping he doesn’t sound too eager to flee away from the crazy shopping addict lacking access to a mall in order to slake her urges – and from the meeting hall, because he’s really not impressed by the people supposed to lead Cang Qiong as a rule and fuck if he’s going to endure them a minute longer.

Yue Qingyuan’s brows twitch. That’s quite the spectacle, the Sect Leader obviously never heard of tweezers because it’s xianxia China.

« Ah, this Sect Leader wouldn’t recommand the visit… not right now, I mean. Several of our most distinguished members currently are in secluded meditation and any disturbance might cause terrible harm to them or their cultivation. »

Shit, that’s a pretty good argument and now Shen Yuan feels like crap. Still it’s not enough to fully choke his need to escape the room and all these dumbasses who really shouldn’t have been considered as the sect’s caretakers, so it boggles the mind for them to have been picked for leadership positions.

« This unworthy one will do his utmost to be discreet, of course. To upset one’s hosts would be the pinnacle of bad manners, indeed. »

Shen Yuan has been better raised than that, in both his lives.

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu spent most of his tenure as the strategist of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect looking for threats, be they in the open or carefully hidden in the shadow. His own martial siblings may refuse to acknowledge this, may spat at him for uprooting foes before they could be given the opportunity to grow more fearsome and dangerous than a pesky annoyance, but he didn’t care.

If he wanted to be loved, he certainly wouldn’t have agreed to be named as one of the Qing generation. This want had been stamped out of him long ago.

So the former slave turned demonic cultivator and murderer turned unpopular Peak Lord in his own sect and the jianghu as a whole kept his eyes wide open. Call him paranoiac if you will, he would declare it was common sense.

Even the dumbest inbred aristocrat would concede it was common sense to closely watch an Heavenly Official descended upon one’s domain and walking around as if he was the true master and ruler of these lands.

Such a prospect rankled Shen Qingqiu – he might be resentful of the whispers and the hypocrisy, but he worked hard to ascend as the Qing Jing Peak Lord, he earned his position through his efforts and sweat and blood, he wouldn’t let a spoiled brat claim otherwise merely because the dimwit happened to have a divine mother !

Because that was a spoiled brat that descended upon Qing Jing Peak – anyone coming from such an exalted position was rotten to the core, Shen Qingqiu learned this after becoming a Disciple of Cang Qiong. All these young masters and mistresses couldn’t see further than their pampered little noses, no matter if they studied the sword on Bai Zhan or the politics on Qiong Ding or the scholarly arts on Qing Jing. Either they were cruel, or they were blind to the world’s harsh truth, but always they were self-centered to the extreme.

Shen Qingqiu supposed it was idiot to blame them for their egotism when whores and street urchins and criminals weren’t better on this point, but the Qing Jing Peak Lord never claimed he was above the hypocrisy that ruled everything under the Heavens. Everybody in the world was ugly, so he would hate everybody and everything under the Heavens.

And if he could, then he would hate everything and everybody coming from the Heavens too – after all, weren’t the Middle Kingdom a reflection of the Upper Realm, if material and lower on the totem pole ? So it made sense for its citizens to be ugly as mankind tended to be.

Shen Qingqiu merely needed to keep a close watch over the Heavenly brat, and surely his flaws would be revealed to the harsh light of the day. No matter how flawless he appeared in his demeanour and features, how graceful his walk and the way his hands moved through the air, how soothing the qi spilling from his slender body in waves –

Never had he felt such peace in anyone’s qi, even from his own Shizun – the serene and endless quietness of a starlit pond in deep winter, pristine white and deepest black, the whole world pausing and holding its breath because disturbing such scenery would be blasphemy from the highest grade –

And it was right there for the taking, mocking any yang cultivator to seize the yin spring for their own and drink of it until it went dry. But who would dare to raise a single finger against a Heavenly Official, one borne of the Moon fairy herself ? Surely the Heavenly brat knew that, and that would explain why he was so shamelessly flaunting himself, his perfected body and his pure qi – because he had nothing in fear with the Upper Realm poised to retaliate in his name. He didn’t even have to trouble himself with punishing the offenders !

Yes, that was a good reason to mistrust the brat. That and his childishness – always dragging his rabbit attendant behind him, couldn’t he walk anywhere on his own ? Did he actually need someone constantly holding his hand ? What a coddled, useless young master indeed !

Shen Qingqiu’s opinion of the Heavenly brat refused to improve after the calling-out of Teacher Zhen – how lofty Young Master Shen was, how enlightened to claim he was better at teaching than someone who actually taught, and that for longer than Shen Qingqiu had been a Peak Lord ! How arrogant, to criticize the lodgings when he was a guest on Qing Jing Peak ! And why would he be upset about anything in the Middle Kingdom, since he would soon depart for the Upper Realm ? All these deities in their cold, exalted palaces were far too busy marvelling at their own greatness to wonder if mortals needed help, or even care about it.

Well, Guanyin was the lone exception, yet her attempts were doomed by the fact that having eleven heads and a thousand arms still wasn’t enough to relieve all the suffering under the Heavens.

Then a meeting had been called, in order for the other Peak Lords to stop burying their heads in the sand and accusing Shen Qingqiu from lying about the nature of the disturbance that shook his Peak late in the night, and the Heavenly brat proceeded to make an even bigger scene by claiming Shang Qinghua had the potential to Ascend further than the four previous generations that ruled over the Tian Gong Twelve Peaks.

Mousy, sniveling Shang Qinghua who wouldn’t stop shaking in his boots everytime someone talked to him, whose greatest ambition was to hug the thighs of the first person strong enough to break his nose and threaten to choke the life out of him – that , having the attention of the Queen Mother of the West, she who first taught mankind cultivation and whose pupils were always fated to achieve greatness and everlasting glory ?

Preposterous, ridiculous, and utterly infuriating . Shen Qingqiu could feel his heart demon rise its ugly head in his broken meridians and instable foundation – why bestow such favour upon someone utterly unworthy of it, whose inadequacy was so obvious it was blinding ? Fucking why  ?!

At least he wasn’t alone to seethe, Qi Qingqi was pale in the way that spoke more of a hissy fit, her nails threatening to open thin wounds in her forearms because she was clutching herself so tight, and Wei Qingwei eyeballed the Heavenly brat as he would consider a demon beast on the prowl, liable to devour a bystander if not quickly caught and put down.

Perhaps this was the best way to handle the situation, treating the Heavenly Official forced upon the Twelve Peaks as a rabid monster to corral away from vulnerable disciples, staff and low-level cultivators. Not being allowed to kill the disturbance under pain of extreme punishment would ensure there would be some injuries and damage to the sect when it would be time for the calamity to leave them alone, but it would be mitigated. High-level cultivators could take care of themselves, after all.

At least, they were supposed to need no help in watching over their surroundings, and Shen Qingqiu knew deep in his bones how wrong it was, because he fucking lived it, day after day since he had ascended as the Qing Jing Peak Lord.

But he would do his duty – he would prevent harm from causing permanent damage to Cang Qiong.

Chapter Text

As so many things much more interesting than heaving bosoms, shivering blossoms and badly written papapa, the Lingxi caves had been mainly glossed over in the narrative. Mostly, they were known for being the place in which Shen Qingqiu managed to murder his own shidi and get away with it in spite of everybody knowing he was responsible for the deed.

It makes Shen Yuan a tad nervous about having the Qing Jing Peak Lord following him in said caves, because the scum villain apparently believes – or at least claims – a good host is supposed to trail after the guest everywhere, just to prevent the guest from having a dumb accident and sue the frick of the whole inn or company or whatnot ? The godling rather thinks it’s an attempt to cover his ass, or maybe Shen Qingqiu just wants to ruin his day further, that man is trash after all and utterly allergic to other people being happy.

Fortunately, Yue Qingyuan is there – because the Lingxi caves are situated on his peak and so he’s the designated tour guide. Such a nice man, he could have thrown some poor Disciple or hallmaster to the wolves, but he insists on suffering Shen Qingqiu and Shen Yuan at the same time ! Truly, Cang Qiong’s Sect Leader is a compassionate soul ! When visiting Qiong Ding, meeting him is the high point of the tour !

Or maybe not, because they’re entering the Lingxi caves and the atmosphere in there – it’s different from Qiong Ding Peak itself, almost a separate entity and it might actually be the case. Can a mountain get dissociative identity disorder ?

In Shen Yuan’s arms, Lingling sighs and quivers, her fur softly fluffing out as the qi-saturated air brushes against her small body.

« Mmh, Young Master » she whispers, « you feel it, don’t you ? »

« Feel what ? » Shen Qingqiu asks, his tone bland and his eyebrow arched behind his fan, the dude seriously won’t drop it and Shen Yuan vaguely wonders if the Qing Jing Peak Lord grafted the accessory to his hand with a mysterious magical surgery because xianxia, even when it’s not a stallion novel they’re doing the craziest shit just because it sounds like a good idea to them.

But it’s a minor preoccupation, because the atmosphere in these caves, it feels like…

It feels…

« It’s very reminiscent of home, actually » Shen Yuan softly confesses.

Home as the Fragrant Palace, the elegant mansion eternally standing among a thousand blossoms, the oxymoronic place in which the transient spring season will last forever. Home as the quiet peace between these walls inhabited by a flurry of rabbits tending to a Moon fairy and her offspring while an obedient giant is watching over the domain, a peace in which people are smiling instead of laughing because laughing would disturb something intimate and sacred.

Home as a hidden pain, kept far beneath the surface, because it’s far too old now, it’s far too late to hope things will ever be fixed, and you know that, you accepted that, yet it doesn’t mean it will stop hurting you in the early morning, when it’s the loneliest you are…

Shen Yuan blinks, his heartbeat stuttering and beating a thunderstorm in his inner ear. Something happened deep in these caves, something just as bad as Chang’e forced to consume the Immortality pill and abandon her beloved on Earth to grow old and die without her to follow him.

Something very sad happened in these caves, and he instinctively wishes to shy away, just like he wants to run when a-Niang gets lost in her mind as she offers incense to the solitary tablet in the ancestral shrine. His grip on Lingling tightens a bit, he has to remind himself she’s not a plush toy and might be uncomfortable if he squeezes too much.

He won’t ask any questions about what unfolded in the caves. It’s already hard to bear witness to a-Niang’s sorrow, Shen Yuan is unsure about his ability to endure more suffering – be you a god or a mortal or even a rabbit, pain doesn’t seem to diminish in intensity.

Nobody talks as they wander in the soft glow of the night pearls scattered in the halls, barely enough to keep complete darkness at bay and letting the caves suspended in twilight – this isn’t the kind of place in which you want to raise your voice louder than a whisper, and Shen Yuan wonders if it served as one of these carved grottos before Cang Qiong came and decided it would be perfect for a sect to be established there.

And then the noise .

Is it an earthquake ? No, it sounds far too localised, it would spread more like water rippling if the mountain was about to fall over their little band’s head. No, it sounds more – someone banging against the wall ?

Lingling hisses in annoyance, her ears flattened against her skull, and Shen Yuan pouts angrily – who dares to impiege over the caves’ quietness ? He would have words with them. Very specific words, from the kind he unleashed in the chatrooms and comment sections for webnovels.

Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan don’t look happier than the godling and the moon rabbit.

« Zhangmen-shixiong, did you give anyone the right to meditate in the caves ? » the scum villain mildly asks, snapping his fan shut in a jerky move betraying exasperation.

The Qing Ding Peak Lord narrows his dark eyes.

« Well, there is our shidi… but he ought to have everything well-handled, shouldn’t he ? »

The major problem when a Sect Leader is calling someone shidi , you won’t know who exactly he means unless he adds a surname or given name. What complicates things further is that Proud Immortal Demon Way never cared about naming half the Peak Lords of Cang Qiong – because Luo Binghe never had the opportunity to interact with them and in spite of these people likely being unaware of his existence he nonetheless murdered them with extreme prejudice for belonging to the same sect than Shen Qingqiu, what the hell dude ? Xianxia really isn’t for one cursed with a weak stomach, ah !

Let’s see, a shidi of Yue Qingyuan, meditating in the Lingxi caves… Shen Yuan is pretty sure he read this plot somewhere but it’s been so many years since, what were the specificities ?

The walls shake anew and a tortured scream echoes – a scream you would hear when your computer suddenly crashes right before you could learn who the Emperor would believe about the conspiracy to destroy the kingdom.

And Shen Yuan thinks he remembers.

Chapter Text

So Liu Qingge was very much a background extra in Proud Immortal Demon Way. Worse than a background extra, actually, as he was barely worth a few sentences explaining how Shen Qingqiu would even murder a martial sibling for not liking him very much – who could blame the guy, Yue Qingyuan seriously was an anomaly among the Twelve Peaks, the scum villain had to blackmail him with something truly outrageous to achieve such behaviour – and mostly served as revenge motive for his sister Mingyan before Cang Qiong’s destruction, then brooding motive after Luo Binghe established himself as the Sacred Ruler of the Middle and Lower Realms.

Naturally, Shen Yuan feels a mite intrigued about the secret character – the War God of Bai Zhan Peak, the lone cultivator whose martial might would have potentially stood up to the Protagonist himself with his golden finger Xin Mo ! Anyone would want to behold the dude in his prime !

That’s really unfortunate that Liu Qingge is currently in the throes of a qi deviation, and very busy to try and kill them all. Apparently, the whispering annoyed him and he popped up like some jack-in-the-box or the fox animatronic in this survival horror about the doomed pizzeria – er-ge loved the game but Shen Yuan barely could watch one walkthrough before swearing the experience off entirely. When he’s playing horror, he likes being able to hit back or run away screaming like a little girl ! Not being stuck in a corner while the monsters are lurking around his refuge ! That’s called fucking common sense !

A bloodthirsty cultivator willing to string you by your freshly ripped guts in a secluded cave would be a pretty good idea for a survival horror, thinking about it. Shen Yuan is lucky, because Yue Qingyuan is a good host and doesn’t take kindly to the howling banshee running at them with a live sword.

And holy frack, Yue Qingyuan doesn’t bother with kid gloves when fighting. He doesn’t even bother with his spirit sword – very much a brawler or wrestler in his moves, but not afraid to kick in the balls, spit in the eyes and punch his opponent’s head so hard that it causes an impact crater in the wall – mother of fuck, is Liu Qingge still alive ? Shen Yuan is holding his breath…

Yes, the War God is struggling to get back up, only for his Sect Leader to firmly sit on his back and Yue Qingyuan is huge , wouldn’t be a surprise if he was above one hundred ninety centimeters, so he’s heavy and he’s now pulling on Liu Qingge’s arms to force them above the guy’s head, it has to hurt. Especially with Liu Qingge trashing so much, you would believe he’s rabid – and he won’t stop screaming his head off.

Shen Yuan can understand why Shen Qingqiu looks so disgusted – it’s very undignified, and Liu Qingge really ought to stop, he doesn’t have the face ugly enough for that kind of expression !

That’s a big surprise, the War God’s appearance, Shen Yuan’s jaw threatened to drop on the floor with a mere glimpse because where the fuck are the scars ? Where are the muscles ? Where are all the details befitting a cultivator able to terrify a whole army into throwing their weapons and surrendering in masse when he comes to the battlefield ? The poor thing thrashing under Yue Qingyuan’s merciless grip looks more the part of a pampered young poet lamenting over wilted blossoms and sipping jasmine tea in the weakening light of the autumn evening !

Seriously, Shen Yuan is mind-blown. Even if it kinda makes sense ? Liu Mingyan is supposed to be so beautiful she needs to veil herself or people would be nothing but drooling idiots in her presence – really, she shouldn’t have bothered because people in Proud Immortal Demon Way have IQ in the negatives when interacting with someone plot-relevant and as one of the protagonist’s main wives, Liu Mingyan is very relevant.

But the ugly expression must go. Oh, he’s foaming at the mouth now, that’s even more disgusting and that’s it, Shen Yuan cannot stand it anymore.

« Young Master » Shen Qingqiu hisses as the godling walks towards the rabid War God, kneeling besides his head.

« Young Master ? » Yue Qingyuan echoes in a more alarmed tone, more a parent seeing their brat near the mean dog leashed to the wall.

Lingling squirms uneasily in her master’s embrace, obviously worried by her proximity to a very big threat but that’s alright, it will take barely a few seconds to fix the situation.

« Hush now, we are going to help this poor soul » Shen Yuan declares. « Such a pity it would be for him to be stuck this way forever. »

Liu Qingge snarls when two cold fingertips brush his forehead, and Shen Yuan closes his eyes to focus on the qi he’s sending in the mortal’s scalded meridians.

It’s quite a delicate endeavour, with the Bai Zhan Peak Lord being a mortal in spite of his physical cultivation refining so much of his body and as such surprisingly fragile. Nonetheless, Shen Yuan’s qi is yin – yin is rest and peace, there’s no risk of the mixed energies exploding in the War God’s golden core and killing him or leaving him permanently crippled. Yin is meant to soothe, and Liu Qingge certainly needs soothing with the turmoil wrecking havoc in his dantian.

No wonder he had a qi deviation, his qi is heavily skewed towards yang – very good for a physical cultivator, that, yang is aggressiveness and vitality, but it will lead to raging tantrums if not tempered by drops of yin. Shen Yuan takes pity on the War God and allows more than drops to spill in the mistreated meridians, a dark river gently flooding the dry plain to let new growth burst out of the ground in verdant crops.

A hiccup from beneath Yue Qingyuan. Liu Qingge has lost his wrathful expression and now appears struck-dumb, a cat unable to comprehend why neckties are a thing in front of his master dressing for the office.

« Who – what – are you ? » he stutters. « F-fairy ? »

A smile pulls on Shen Yuan’s lips.

« That would be my mother, actually. »

« The peerless and esteemed Chang’e, she who dwells in her lunar palace, to be precise » Lingling intervenes because she thinks the job of herald is an important one. « Be grateful, mortal, for this is her child who beheld your wretched state and brought you back to sanity when he could have commanded your death for such a loathsome spectacle. »

Lingling ! What the fuck are you babbling about ? This Shen Yuan is going to spank you one day for telling such ridiculous things, don’t think he won’t dare !

No, being cute and tiny and fluffy won’t postpone the punishment. Really not.

Chapter Text

Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu are pissed.

Frankly, Shen Yuan can understand why – that’s not very nice for your martial sibling to assault your guest, especially when they are barely dressed according these goddamn xianxia modesty standards that treat an uncovered ankle as shameless exhibitionnism, and when they are obviously mentally impaired because xianxia societies tend to look down upon people losing control of their sanity and mental health.

Still, that’s not very kind of them to gang up – Shen Qingqiu not opposing his Sect Leader for once, now pigs are majestically soaring over the frozen landscape of the Eighteen Hells – against Liu Qingge who just suffered a major qi deviation and very much wishes to commit seppuku on the spot to escape the shame currently upon his – quite lovely – shoulders.

Anybody would rather slit their throat than staying there while Yue Qingyuan is smiling at them. It’s a soft, gentle smile that screams the Sect Leader is not going to kill you but keep you alive to ensure you will have to face the consequences of your actions and acutely regret it for a very long time, and Lingling took a look at the man and immediately burrowed her fuzzy head in Shen Yuan’s collarbone, quietly whimpering in sheer terror.

The godling doesn’t blame her, and he very much would like to flee the scene as the coward he is at his core, but on the other hand that would mean abandoning Liu Qingge to his shixiongs and that’s just too cruel. Even for the Bai Zhan War God, some foes are better left alone.

« Excuse this young master, but the poor fellow seems to have been chastised enough, don’t you think ? »

Shen Qingqiu eyeballing you really is something. It’s a mix between oh my fucking god I cannot believe how much of a dumbass you are and what kind of crazy shit are you smoking and pretty please do they deliver at home , a lesser soul would quake and stutter and take their words back, and he would despise them for that.

Never flinch. Never compromise. Shen Yuan calmly stares back, and the Qing Jing Peak Lord blinks first, haughtily sniffing before glaring at the softly luminescent crystal on the wall across him.

Yue Qingyuan turns toward the godling and his smile settles back into polite blandness, thank fuck for that.

« The Young Master is really too merciful » he declares.

« Not so much » Shen Yuan sighs, « it’s only that I cannot look at him closer if Sect Leader Yue and his shidi keep badgering him. »

Liu Qingge fliches when Shen Yuan crouches in front of him. He’s likely self-conscious, wearing inner robes dirtied with flecks of blood, smudges of soot, his long hair falling back on his face. And in spite of that, he manages to be beautiful, his features further polished in the soft glow of the caves.

Shen Yuan looks at this man, this human being, and a whiff of homesickness gently bruises his heart, even if Liu Qingge lacks the gentleness displayed by a-Niang and likely will never manage to develop it, since his very essence bursts with yang qi – aggressive and vibrant and so painfully alive it gives you the urge to howl.

« Liu-gongzi truly has a fair face » the godling sighs. « Almost as fair as my esteemed mother, but who is ? »

« Young Master only has to gaze in the mirror to answer this question » Lingling cheekily grumbles in his collarbone, the fuzz on her muzzle tickling the skin of his neck.

The War God flushes deep crimson. The scarlet wave invades his face through the ears before plunging on his neck and gaining access to the chest, and is he actually full-body blushing ? Shen Yuan didn’t know it was possible, but he alas cannot confirm the possibility because he would have to entirely undress Liu Qingge and the poor man is already suffering enough.

Also, a male undressing another male is freaking sus on the matter of sexual preferences. It might give ideas to the War God – who’s the embodiment of alpha masculinity in spite of his beautiful face and would be very offended by the idea of a dude hitting on him. Shen Yuan would never dare, of course ! He likes girls fine, but he also knows the rumor mill enjoys shipping everybody with anybody, no matter the gender, the species or even the status as a living being, so he will content himself with mere looks. Respectful looks.

« Why is Liu-gongzi so embarrassed, hm ? Learn to accept due praise » he comments, as he nervously pets Lingling instead of stroking Liu Qingge’s cheek because he’s content with merely looking at the beautiful man in front of him, he really is.

A choked noise in his back, and the godling is quite sure that Shen Qingqiu is chewing on his anger – if it was a manga, the Qing Jing Peak Lord would actually chew on his handkerchief. Prissy as he is, the kind of handkerchief the scum villain would keep in his sleeve would be very prettily embroidered. That’s a shame – Shen Qingqiu is child-abusing trash, and he nonetheless plays the part of flawless, immaculate cultivator to the hilt when it comes to the appearances.

Shen Yuan is so very weak to the appearances, alas. Only his in-depth reading of Proud Immortal Demon Way prevented him from being taken for a ride – well, that and Shen Qingqiu is unable to uphold the maskerade more than a few moments before unveiling his true ugly character. If only he was a tad more manipulative, truly he would be utterly horrifying – more than he already is, that is, such a character that he traumatized – will traumatize ? Crap, Shen Yuan really isn’t good with fluid timelines – the Sacred Ruler of the Lower and Middle Realms, even a century after dying from gruesome torture.

Why is he thinking about these awful events when Liu Qingge is right there ? The older brother to the best wife, Liu Mingyan herself, the reason why she embarked in a crusade of bloody revenge against her own Sect – wait, Liu Qingge is supposed to die in the Lingxi caves from a qi deviation, read murdered by Shen Qingqiu, while Binghe is only a whipping boy for Qing Jing Peak as a whole… Did… Did Shen Yuan…

Jesus Christ on a buttered biscuit, did Shen Yuan derail the fucking plotline  ? Alright, Liu Qingge not dying is a good thing ! Very good ! He’s too pretty to die like a rabid dog in the dark and damp caves but the plotline  ! Shen Yuan isn’t qualified to interfere with Fate as written in the original book !

Lingling softly squeaks as her Young Master squeezes her tight in the throes of his panic attack.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan doesn’t know how much time he spends panicking – well, panicking to the point the Peak Lords can see something’s wrong with their guest and he’s sobbing tears of blood because he completely destroyed his credibility as a god, now they won’t have any qualms kicking him around and who can blame them for enjoying the opportunity – but it’s long enough for their small party to decide it’s better to leave the Lingxi caves and take the rainbow bridge to Qian Cao.

Shen Yuan doesn’t need Qian Cao’s help, he’s a Heavenly Official whose immune system will eat plagues as potato chips and the reincarnated soul briefly suffers craving pangs but he’s stuck in a xianxia dimension, if he’s asking for salty, greasy goodness, the cooks are going to look at him weirdly before trying to call for an exorcist. No, the visit to the Healing Peak is for Liu Qingge with his bedraggled appearance, his inner robes soiled with dirt and a worrying amount of blood and strategically torn to allow glimpses of toned muscles behind the fine cotton – of course Shen Yuan has noticed, these tears are fucking huge – and his expression still utterly stunned and confused, he had to be commotioned from Yue Qingyuan throwing him in the walls.

Shen Yuan tried to pat his hand to reassure the poor Bai Zhan War God that everything would be alright, but the man flinched hard and scrunched his nose, you would think the godling was threatening to dip his fingers into boiling hot water, so Shen Yuan left him alone and was reduced to clutch his darling Lingling.

He worries a bit about Lingling. Since they crashed on Qing Jing Peak, he’s constantly squeezing and cuddling her in order to lower his stress levels, and well, that has to be annoying after a while ! Yes, the dark-furred bunny claims she enjoys the hugs, but what if she’s lying to be polite ? People in his first life wouldn’t stop lying to Shen Yuan, telling him it was fine when it obviously wasn’t, but the third Shen son was sickly and wouldn’t live long anyway for a lie to make a difference so why would you hesitate ?

Still, Shen Yuan is too selfish to relinquish his embrace on his fluffy attendant so he hugs the shit out of her while he’s mentally freaking over the fact he completely derailed a major plot point.

See, Liu Qingge not dying means his sister not turning in a grim avenger hell-bent on forcing the truth to the light, in spite of Yue Qingyuan doing his best to cover the sheer scandal of a Peak Lord murdering his martial brother at his most vulnerable. Liu Qingge not dying means less dirt to uncover on Shen Qingqiu – there already is a fuckload of sins crawling upon the scum villain’s back, but good old murder in which the victim is the dude much more popular who wouldn’t stop having violent rows with your wretched self really helps with the tarnishing. Liu Qingge not dying means a more cohesive, less divided Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, that just might complain a smidge stronger about one of their most esteemed Immortal Masters being slandered in front of the whole jianghu and condemned as the criminal he is, even if only to keep face.

With one single act of mercy, Shen Yuan has made the Protagonist’s path to becoming the Sacred Ruler of the Lower and Middle Realms harder. Surely the Imperial Court in the Heavenly Realm won’t take kindly to that – his niang doesn’t deserve a criminal for a son ! She’s already heart-broken from losing her husband millenia ago, what’s going to become of her if Chang’e is forced to let go of Shen Yuan ?

He frantically swallows to prevent a sob from escaping his throat as he considers this awful potential future. He’s really an awful son to Chang’e, isn’t he ? Not only he’s a liar, a cuckoo who stole her love by pretending to be the child she wanted to have with her lost love, now he’s breaking Heavenly laws right and left. One might say he deserves to be punished, but Shen Yuan knows his niang far too well, she’s too attached to him now, so she’s going to cry as if her actual flesh and blood was tormented…

« Young Master ? Do you feel well ? »

Nothing like Mu Qingfang’s pitiful excuse for facial hair to chase the ghost of self-loathing away. Shen Yuan waves a hand – why is the Qian Cao Peak Lord fluttering around him when Liu Qingge is the one who just had a qi deviation and would have – was supposed to – die without an immediate intervention ?

« Merely hoping for Peak Lord Liu’s health to be better. He did his martial brothers quite a fright, do you know. »

The physician deeply bows and what the fuck ? Why is he doing that ?

« This wretched master humbly begs Young Master Shen’s forgiveness on behalf of my martial brother. In his right state of mind, even the Bai Zhan Peak Lord who aspires to martial godhood wouldn’t be so foolish that he would raise his blade against one dwelling in the Upper Realm » the doctor carefully declares.

« There is nothing to forgive » Shen Yuan snorts. « Why would this one blame Peak Lord Liu for something he couldn’t control ? »

Mu Qingfang stays bowed. It cannot be good for his back, even if the dude is practising cultivation and has to know a thousand yoga stances to help with aching joints.

« He could have injured Young Master Shen » Shen Qingqiu intervenes, glaring above his fan. « Surely the Young Master cares about this pesky detail ? »

Shen Yuan raises an eyebrow. Why do you care about Liu Qingge, ah ?

« But he didn’t » the godling pointedly reminds everyone. « To punish someone for a sin yet to be commited is no justice at all, this is merely spilling innocent blood out of misguided zealotry and lust for self-righteousness. Does the enlightened Master take this one for a tyrant, to cast such a merciless judgement ? »

Shen Qingqiu’s green eyes flash venomously but the Qing Jing Peak Lord refuses to say anything more, likely bidding his time to find some other nasty accusation to fling at Shen Yuan’s face. The reincarnated soul will enjoy the silence as long as it lasts, you cannot ask too much from the scum villain after all.

And maybe Shen Yuan can allow himself to enjoy the fact that he did save someone, actually – especially such a beautiful man, it truly would have been a sin for the Middle Kingdom to be deprived of these fair features.

And Liu Qingge, unlike his sister, doesn’t hide himself behind a veil, so the loss would have been tremendous.

Chapter Text

For one who was titled a War God, Liu Qingge never had been truly worried about the Upper Realm and its denizens.

Why would he ? In almost three decades of living in the Middle Realm, he fought and vainquished a great deal of opponents – evil cultivators, sentient flora, rabid monsters, demons coming in all shapes and colours, even aggressive rocks and a plethora of more or less embodied spirits – but never did he stumble upon something he would truly call divine.

What was divine  ? He couldn’t really explain it, except to confess he never met it. At the most, he had the vague feeling that it was something beyond himself, something in front of which even the Bai Zhan Peak Lord, unsurpassed in a thousand battles since he inherited his position, would be unable to raise Cheng Luan and would kneel instead.

But he never found it, and so he didn’t care about it. He already was far too busy with his Peak, the brats calling him Shizun and ambushing him in his bath in the hopes to take him down – they nonetheless failed because Liu Qingge was a Peak Lord, he mainly fought with his sword but everything could be a weapon so he didn’t neglect barehanded fighting, especially since one of his martial brothers was this scum Shen Qingqiu who spat on honor and gladly used every single dirty trick he could think of to triumph when he condescended to take the field instead of fanning himself to hide his disgusted sneer – the travels he regularly undertook all over the Middle Kingdom, and furthering his own cultivation.

That was for the latter point that he asked for Zhangmen-shixiong to let him enter the Lingxi caves – the place was filled with natural, spiritual qi to the point it was a minor miracle that the walls weren’t bursting but natural qi wasn’t the aggressive kind. It was rather soothing, thoroughly grounded in the here and now , and it leaned towards heaviness, there wasn’t any other word to describe the feeling. It just was so hard to rouse natural qi into having a reaction, most people in tune with it were very much passive in temperament and held within them a serenity befitting hermits relinquishing mundane thoughts to dissolve in pure non-existence and achieve the perfect peace of the Primordial Emptiness.

Liu Qingge wasn’t that kind of person, he knew himself far too well to have delusions on the matter – but he chose the path leading to the silver bridge, and when one started to tread the road in which Immortality was the end, one didn’t have the luxury to pull the wool over one’s eyes regarding your capabilities, your feelings, your very being . You had to be at peace with yourself if you wished to progress far.

Let the commons and the highborns and even his martial siblings call Liu Qingge a meathead, a battle maniac who cared less for his duties as a Peak Lord than indulging his thirst for adventures and blood spilling. Why would he take offense, when it was nothing but the truth ? Liu Qingge had been warned when he had been accepted on Bai Zhan, so very long ago, parts of him likely would be ugly and repelling – everybody was like that, had something they wished to hide from others and most of all themselves – and he nonetheless would have to stand their sight because not acknowledging the impurities in the molten steel would lead to a subpar sword being forged, and nobody was interested in a blade that would shatter if you swung it with a bit too much energy.

Unfortunately, it seemed all of Liu Qingge’s efforts to refine the molten metal of his being and cleanse it from impurities had reached a bottleneck, and he fell into a qi deviation as a result. For what reason ? Hard to determine, yang qi begged for the slightest reason to run wild and fiery and this time was akin to an inferno on the plains, when a drought ensured the grass was yellowed by thirst and dust, perfect kindling to be devoured by the hungry flames and it hurt .

It hurt so much, Liu Qingge couldn’t see anymore, could barely feel his limbs as his qi seized control away from him and he was quite sure he was dying, his heart beating so hard in his chest that the organ surely would explode and end his existence in the most painful way imaginable.

Then he heard the whisper – a quiet singing weaved from moonlight and silk and snowflakes in the deepest, darkest part of winter, a soft refrain swiftly fleeing when you received barely a glimpse of it, so delicate and elusive and so lonely that Liu Qingge’s heart ached anew, a pain so pure it almost forced tears to spread on his face, and he wanted nothing more than fall to his knees in front of this song, this quietness, this blessed darkness.

A darkness in which appeared a face – and Liu Qingge wasn’t blind, he knew his mother was famed for her beauty to the point that several of her suitors would have kidnapped her if she hadn’t been a prodigy in sword-wielding, he knew Mingyan took after her so much that she needed to hide behind a veil or Qi Qingqi would spend all her time burning proposal letters, he knew he was handsome and he rather disliked it because simpering weaklings were more interested in ogling him than helping him to fix their problems by hunting the local hungry ghost or monster or evil cultivator on a rampage…

And yet…

Quicksilver eyes dispassionately gazing at him, hints of black and white glinting in their swirling depths, set in a face so utterly lacking in flaws, it should have been uncanny, and yet…

They couldn’t be human, they couldn’t be a cultivator, even one among the highest-graded golden cores, because the qi freely spilling from their skin, from their snowy mane of hair, from their graceful moves, it was far too pure to be human, far too serene to be natural, far too – just far too much .

It couldn’t be explained. This fairy made of white and black couldn’t be explained, their existence flying in the face of everything Liu Qingge had seen and fought and lived in his three decades of existence roaming around the Middle Kingdom, occasionally wandering on the frontiers of the Lower Realm…

So it would leave the Upper Realm, wouldn’t it ?

Shen Yuan . Child of the Moon fairy Chang’e – she was formerly married to Houyi the tyrant, Liu Qingge remembered being tiny and focusing less on the tragic parting holding most of the appeal in the legend because he only cared about hearing how a man became so skilled, he had been able to slay the rampaging Suns…

A Heavenly Official whose qi flowed through Liu Qingge’s meridians and he wanted to shy away from the gift, seized by the fear of the unknown, someone he didn’t know had just injected their lifeforce in his body and he ought to hate that and yet…

Cool moonlight shining on the dark sea at midnight, the barely formed waves crested with ice and snowflakes, and the Bai Zhan Peak Lord never had felt so small, not even when he was a snot-nosed brat fretting about Shizun rejecting him as a potential Disciple no matter how much he fought and demonstrated how strong he was.

So small in front of the unfathomable ocean and the Heavens reflected by the water, and yet not resentful of this fact, because how could he even dare ?

Liu Qingge who had fought and battled a thousand opponents and always had emerged victorious, had been vainquished at last and he would kneel at his god’s feet as long as it would take for this feeling of startled awe in his gut to fade.

He couldn’t bring himself to believe it ever would happen.

Chapter Text

Finally, finally, Shen Yuan is allowed to escape from Qian Cao Peak. That’s not like he hates the place – or maybe he just dislikes it, the tiniest smidge, because he spent too many years in hospitals in his former life, in his initial human childhood, and that’s the kind of trauma that follows you in all your ensuing reincarnations, alright ?

Qian Cao even has the temperament of some nurses he was familiar with – very sweet, very gentle and great at comforting the patients but kinda overbearing, their presence a reminder of the fact he was sick and couldn’t leave his room, couldn’t leave his fucking bed, their gaze automatically sweeping over his body to search for hints of weakness, of a disease progressing.

Shen Yuan doesn’t hate these nurses, and he doesn’t hate the Peak either – they’re supposed to help injured or ill people, he cannot fault them for doing their job ! He – merely wishes to stay away. From the memories reeking of bleach, tinged grey and faded white by exhaustion.

(why cannot he remember his former family without making such a tremendous effort, one that just won’t stop growing and growing as times flies by, while it’s too goddamn easy to remember choking on air, wondering if his fucking heart would stop working today, eyes filled with pity as they stared at him, stared through him and sometimes held irritation and annoyance, why won’t you die already and free everyone from the burden your wrecked health is, why are you still pussyfooting, not sick enough to die yet not strong enough to actually live)

(do you think he never prayed for the end to come because he was exhausted too, he was angry too, but how was he supposed to say that when people all around him wouldn’t even acknowledge the matter)

Shen Yuan slowly breathes out, and enjoys the cold mountain air rushing in his lungs, so cold he would have fallen down to the ground gasping and hiccuping in his previous life. He walks on the rainbow bridge to go back to Qing Jing Peak, such a long distance that he would have been unable to walk it on his two feet, not even able to crawl because his muscles would burn and scream, underutilized from constant bedrest.

He’s healthy, and for all his complains about reincarnation and transmigration – especially when he adds the reveal that he’s stuck in a fucking trash novel that cared more about papapa than worldbuilding – the boy who died before celebrating his twenty-fifth birthday thoroughly relishes the new body he now owns. A body that won’t betray him, that won’t sicken even if Armageddon is unleashed tomorrow, that will let him do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.

He’s focusing on that, and the grasping fingers of Qian Cao – whose voice echoes in the many tones of these nurses belonging to another world, another life, and have no right to be there, no longer when he doesn’t need their services anymore – stop digging within his neck and shoulders.

Breathe in, hold it, breathe out. Everything’s fine. Really.

« Young Master ? Do you feel better ? »

Poor Lingling, he’s not doing a bang-up job of watching over her, falling in pieces right in front of her and she’s not even complaining, merely worrying for her good-for-nothing employer as she blinks her ruby red eyes at him. Shen Yuan’s heart swells with remorse as he sighs and kisses the top of her fuzzy head.

« That’s alright » he claims. « Just… a lot of things happened, for our first day in the Middle Kingdom, hm ? »

« I will say ! » Lingling sneezes in annoyance. « No wonder the mortals are always running everywhere, constantly confused, if that is how their life looks like ! »

« I think the current circumstances are a tiny bit exceptional » Shen Yuan cannot help but nuance, because yes, this is a cultivation setting but on the other hand, Proud Immortal Demon Way made rather clear that in spite of the fancy qi techniques and sword-wielding and occasional monster hunts, Luo Binghe’s disciplehood within Cang Qiong was very much like going to school, with the bullying and studying and sometimes boredom involved.

So it means the current agitation is entirely Shen Yuan’s fault, and judging from Shen Qingqiu mentioning other Sects jumping on the opportunity to ogle him like an animal at the zoo, it’s not going to settle down anytime soon. That will teach the godling to trip over a hundun and crash down in another realm, next time he will find some train or another way to travel safely and most importantly, without anyone noticing his ass and making a scene – no, not a scene, a full-blown movie, an entire cinematic saga because that’s genuinely how it feels right now – over it.

Fuck, the pressure is already climbing back and threatening to give him a headache. If it’s the same or similar to the Imperial Palace summoning his niang for her to dance on the steps of the Highest Emperor’s throne, everybody will gape at him because he’s new, shining entertainment they didn’t have time to get used to so it will take a while before they find him stale and leave for new horizons, even if Shen Yuan fully trusts in how boring he is – seriously, he’s a fucking nerd who barely leaves his countryside house ! Who’s going to find that interesting ? Heavenly Officials are supposed to be martial prodigies able to split the wind by raising an eyebrow or raze a mountain by glaring at it ! Or they are peerless beauties whose song makes snow in summer ! Or they are so impossibly terrifying you immediately kowtow and beg for your life while hoping the stink from your piss-soaked pants won’t annoy them too much !

Shen Yuan is nothing like that. He’s just some measly redneck who happened to be at the right place, at the right moment, to save the Bai Zhan Peak Lord from dying alone and very gruesomely in the dark, but cultivators are constantly rescuing each other from ignominious fates – slaughtered and gutted and devoured and not always in this precise order, to name a few – so that’s not like it matters a lot. Especially when the rescued shmuck is such a minor character he warranted a mere sentence in the novel, to reveal he died and that was yet another crime to pile on the scum villain’s shoulders, frankly it’s impressive that Shen Qingqiu didn’t crumble under all this weight because the jianghu and Luo Binghe did their best to charge him with everything they could think of.

He cannot wait to go back to the shadows of the almost unknown.

Chapter Text

Considering the utter shitstorm his first day interacting with the Cang Qiong cultivators wound up to be, Shen Yuan concludes it’s better for everyone if he hides himself and his poor Lingling in the bamboo house’s spare bedroom – really, he’s going to be fine ! He used to stay in his flat for weeks without setting a foot outside in his first life – on the other hand, he had a computer and a phone so that wasn’t like he was completely isolated, he admits it. Also, he didn’t have a very scummy child abusing trash as his landlord.

You would believe Shen Qingqiu would be happy to learn his unwanted guest doesn’t intend to disturb the way he rules over Qing Jing further – especially after Shen Yuan publically eviscerated this quack teacher – but apparently, having to share his house – a place big enough for Shen Yuan’s former family to comfortably live there – is unforgiveable. Truly, you can trust that guy to find the rusted lining on the auspicious cloud, he’s going to poke and prod until it’s exposed for everyone to see !

If he’s that determined to make himself miserable, who is Shen Yuan to stop him – and that’s not like he’s very motivated to do so, because that kind of personality is exhausting even for a fucking saint – now, if only he could abstain from spreading the misery around, like a drenched dog that fell in the sewers splattering its master, the people who rescued it from the sewers and so many innocent bystanders with dirty water and smelly liquid shit as it shakes itself clean.

Shen Yuan knows where this road leads, after criticizing every single chapter of Proud Immortal Demon Way . For a character who only had importance in the very beginning, Shen Qingqiu’s influence nonetheless looms over the entire novel, since he thoroughly traumatized the stallion protagonist into indulging his worst flaws and seeking self-validation and comfort everywhere he shouldn’t, and when the stallion protagonist is the Sacred Ruler who merged two realms of existence, it easily means hundreds of millions of lives changed not for the better.

Shite, the godling cannot help but wonder what it means for the Upper Realm – are they supposed to get involved with such a disaster as an interdimensional merging ? Yes, that’s Luo Binghe’s fate to unite the Lower and Middle Realms, so there’s an argument to be made in favor of letting things proceed as they did in the novel, but the Upper Realm is staunchly orderly and bent on defending the status quo, and forcing demons and humans to live together would utterly destroy the current order as defined by the Highest Emperor.

It can go one way or another, really, and Shen Yuan dreads the possibility of being too involved already, after preventing Liu Qingge’s scripted demise – but he won’t regret it, not when he got to admire this beautiful face and what the fuck was thinking Airplane, depriving the world of such magnificence – hey, that’s a pretty good idea, going to yell at Shang Qinghua ! He’s right there, and he wrote the trashfire, so everything’s his fault ! Shen Yuan’s mood is already improving, nothing like breathing fire at a dumbass who totally deserves his wrath for his stress levels to lower into nonexistence !

Still, visiting An Ding Peak – and he cannot help feeling a smidge curious, so many of the Twelve Peaks weren’t described in Proud Immortal Demon Way because the protagonist was considered too disgraceful to officially peek at them – will have to wait, likely until the official visit from the Tian Yi-Zhao Hua delegation, because the other Peak Lords looked very anxious and twitchy at the meeting before the venture in the Lingxi caves, it has to be caused by that. Dignitaries coming to your home and complaining about the flaws you couldn’t hide is very upsetting, after all !

In the meantime, the Twelve Peaks will suffer a flurry of activity and since Shen Yuan doesn’t belong to the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, since he’s actually the filthy criminal ruining everybody’s schedule by crashing into their backyard and not having the elementary courtesy to summon his mother to get scolded and dragged back home in shame, it’s better for him and Lingling to not be underfoot. A good guest won’t deliberately inflict more work on their host, it’s distressing and extremely rude.

Ning Yingying likely will be disappointed, with the girl obviously slotting herself into the position of tour guide for Qing Jing Peak, and now she’s losing the opportunity before it can really rise off the ground. Regarding Luo Binghe – Shen Yuan is hesitant on the matter, but he strongly suspects the protagonist won’t be too unhappy about not having to interact with Lingling, the rabbit having bitten his hand and that’s the kind of thing the blackened lotus won’t forget or forgive but if he ever tries to turn Shen Yuan’s fluffy attendant in a stew or a fur stole, the godling is going to do something very mean to him. Maybe slap him silly.

That’s fucking ridiculous, to oppose the future Sacred Ruler of the Demon and Human Realm over a measly rabbit, especially when you have read the gruesome fates Luo Binghe would force on his opponents – for so many reasons, Shen Qingqiu and Ming Fan were the most justified cases but the Heavenly Demon sometimes would lob someone’s head off because they were talking back and he wasn’t interested in hearing what they wanted to say – but Lingling belongs to Shen Yuan, and she’s barely an infant in human weeks and you don’t punish an infant for biting someone, that’s fucking disproportionate and evil.

Even if the stallion protagonist has a problem with that, Shen Yuan isn’t staying in the Middle Kingdom anyway – Airplane was terrible for following a plot hook, he wouldn’t stop dropping good plotlines and would leave characters alive and potentially playing a role in future chapters only to completely fail at mentioning them three millions words later, so there’s a precedent for escaping the Sacred Tyrant’s retaliation, just exploit his goldfish’s attention span and let yet another sister papapa him into distraction !

And if the blackened protagonist really couldn’t forget, well, he would find Hong’er on his path. The pale giant certainly would object to a demon threatening one of his charges – even if he focused more on Shen Yuan and his niang’s protection, Hong’er enjoyed petting the bunnies too much to let anything happen to them and wasn’t that a cute picture, the giant bodyguard swarmed with fuzzy critters dozing on his lap – and maybe he would tag-team with Tu’er Ye, that would be a fucking horrifying combination, even King Yama would balk at pairing these two on a regular basis.

Nothing like a dad bent on defending his baby girl to ruin a fiery young stallion, ah !

Chapter Text

Liu Qingge apparently didn’t got the memo that Shen Yuan wanted to hide in his guest room – but maybe he wanted to get even, since his seclusion was disturbed so he would disturb Shen Yuan’s own seclusion ? And he also brought Liu Mingyan, or maybe she brought herself with him, because she had this vibe of a younger sister who wasn’t scared of pestering and harassing her poor older brothers until they caved to her will.

(meimei wouldn’t stop doing that to er-ge and da-ge, Shen Yuan she wouldn’t annoy too much because his health wouldn’t let him and that was nice to be considered boring and unfunny when you got to sit on the sidelines and laugh at your brothers complaining a storm, but when you grew up a bit and understood just how much you were missing out, well)

(knowing meimei she already forgot her sickly, useless third brother because she won’t let anything or anyone stop her from having a life, and maybe Shen Yuan ought to be pissed about that but there’s nothing to feel beyond exhausted acceptance, that’s not like he did anything worthy for his family to mourn him years later)

The purple and pink-clad female cultivator is smiling behind her gazy veil, judging from the crinkles at her eyes’ corner – Shen Yuan really wants for this veil to disappear and let him decide if she’s as beautiful as Airplane insisted she was, after beholding the Bai Zhan War God in his unexpected prettiness maybe the hack author was actually in the right for once – while her brother is grim and almost frowning, but even upturned lips aren’t enough to mar Liu Qinghe’s peerless features. Truly, if the dude manages to ascend – and Shen Yuan hopes he won’t screw the process and have yet another qi deviation instead, once should be enough for a lifetime – the Imperial Court won’t complain about him being so ugly that he’s distracting the officials from doing their job.

That’s just weird, how plain humans are in Ancient xianxia China, especially when the setting is supposed to be Proud Immortal Demon Way in which it was impossible for Luo Binghe to wander in the countryside without stumbling upon a peerless beauty – fucking seriously, Airplane, did nobody ever got bad acne in your story ? Surely it happened, with none of the miracle that proper modern skin care is available to the masses !

Anyway, the Liu siblings visiting him in the bamboo house. Shen Qingqiu is chaperoning – and looking like he was sodomized with a fistful of hot chili pepper-flavoured gravel, slowly fanning himself to repress a powerful urge to commit the murder he couldn’t be accused of in this timeline, dude couldn’t scream his intentions more plainly than if he was yelling in a megaphone at the top of his lungs ! And all that expressed in pinched lips and bloodless cheeks and an empty gaze !

Shen Yuan almost marvels at how subtle the scum villain is, but the dude is used to play politics at Yue Qingyuan’s side. Of course he’s subtle – regarding politics, because his child abuse is nothing short of blatant.

« A thousand thanks to Young Master Shen for saving my brother’s life » Liu Mingyan is saying, and Shen Yuan wants to scrunch his nose because Liu Qingge – wait, no, he doesn’t remember Liu Qingge thanking him ? But the poor guy was coming down from a qi deviation, and then he had to find clothes that weren’t completely destroyed, so the godling isn’t holding a grudge for that.

« Young Mistress Liu is far too polite to this one » Shen Yuan politely answers.

« On the contrary, Young Master » she insists and the godling’s stomach is plummeting somewhere around his heels because he cannot help but feel it won’t end in a good way for him. « Saving the Bai Zhan War God is not a small thing at all... »

Shen Qingqiu snorts and looks through the window – is he agreeing with Liu Mingyan ? Since Liu Qingge is supposed to be pretty strong, that would be hard for him to stumble into such circumstances that he’s stuck in the rescued part rather than the rescuer one.

« Not only that, Young Master Shen helped him with his cultivation ! »

Now, Shen Yuan is frowning. What is she babbling about ? Don’t go and accuse him from something he never did, sister !

« This one believes he merely reminded your brother’s meridians that a qi deviation would be very detrimental to their well-being » he declares.

The thing is, it’s not actually sarcasm – when your qi is overwhelmingly yin, the passive side of vital energy, you cannot exactly force things. It’s more about hinting , or suggesting , because yin cannot act on its own, it exists as something inert, a simple truth of the world and that’s to the living beings to act on this truth. Fortunately, Liu Qingge was powerfully yang so it’s easy to push him into action, you don’t even have to wave a red flag under his nose, just scream you’re holding the flag and he will run you over.

Is that just Shen Yuan, or does this last sentence sound weird ? He’s going to blame the Bai Zhan War God’s cold, hard stare upon him – really, that’s a shame for him to not smile, but if he did, the godling can see that quickly becoming a weapon of mass seduction. Forget Luo Binghe’s canonical three thousands beauties, Liu Qingge would seduce six sevenths of the world and the last seventh is because old people have no libido whatsoever – well, people who aged normally, since it’s a xianxia trash novel you can reach five centuries and a half and nonetheless stay youthful enough for getting carded in the modern world because nobody is buying you’re legally allowed to get drunk.

« You’re a Heavenly Official » Liu Qingge grunts, his voice terse and clipped and that suits him in a deeply strange way. « Your qi is – pure. More than natural qi. It – should prevent any other deviation. »

So basically, Shen Yuan’s qi has fixed Liu Qingge’s meridians ? Still, that’s not a reason to act so weirdly around him, he only prevented the Bai Zhan War God from dying.

« This one really hopes his qi will suffice for Master Liu to find the silver bridge, then. I cannot very well follow you everywhere and help every time you stumble upon a roadblock. »

Because, seriously, Liu Qingge is a grown up and a seasoned warrior, he ought to be able to handle himself and not trip on his feet and impale himself on his spirit blade, that would be quite the embarrassing demise, wouldn’t it.

Pink creeps on the Bai Zhan War God’s ears and cheeks, that’s adorable.

« I have survived on my own before you came » he growls, but that’s not very threatening. « I will survive on my own. »

« Of course you will » Shen Yuan answers. « You’re not the disappointing sort. »

And now Liu Qingge is outright reddening, while Liu Mingyan gives off the impression that she’s widely grinning behind her veil.

Seriously, what’s up with these siblings ?

Chapter Text

In his previous life, Shen Yuan used to laugh at the very idea of cabin fever. If anything, he would rather describe himself as a smidge agoraphobic, an expected consequence of spending so much time in a hospital bedroom then unable to truly enjoy the outside because he couldn’t properly breathe or walk. At least when he was huddled in his bedroom, he could control his surroundings and that wasn’t like he was bored, with his webnovels and movies and online classes.

The Fragrant Palace wasn’t such a bad place to idle the days away, either – it certainly was far better than the Imperial Court will all these rude, gaping courtiers. Shen Yuan complains a lot about being trained as a perfect gentleman and scholar, but it’s not as stressing as it could be when the teacher is a fluffy bunny you can pick and cuddle, sometimes the godling did precisely that just to hear the rabbit emit this funny, offended squeak as they wriggled without great conviction in his embrace and continued their lecture.

But now, Shen Yuan is on Qing Jing Peak and his attempt to isolate – it certainly could go a lot better, because the Liu siblings went and visited in spite of the godling specifically asking to be left alone, thank you very much, and now the dam is flooding quickly, hallmasters and disciples from the inner and outer circles won’t stop knocking at the bamboo house’s front door for one reason or another, and they’re not always from Qing Jing !

No wonder that Shen Qingqiu developed a twitchy eye, and Shen Yuan cannot help feeling bad about it. Alright, that dude is the scum villain, but come on, everybody deserves privacy in their own house ! If you’re constantly disturbed when you want to relax with a good book or in the bath or are laying on the bed to endure a headache, murder begins to appear as a pretty entrancing, rational option.

Since Shen Yuan and his poor helpless Lingling are physically the closest potential victims, it means quietly fucking off somewhere else on the peak. And hopefully find a way to stop biting his nails bloody over the cultivating delegation’s upcoming arrival.

That’s Lingling who suggests Shen Yuan could try and revisit his dance training, we don’t know how long we are going to be stuck in the Mortal Realm, Young Master, do you wish to get rusty ? Surely the physical exhaustion will do you a world of good, and your esteemed mother would be so pleased for you to continue the exercice without her to guide you !

Shen Yuan pictures his niang and the way she smiles at him every time they dance together and something deep within his gut twists and churns and it doesn’t hurt, not really, but it feels like congelated sadness, it feels like a petty betrayal to dance without her since it’s Chang’e who loves dancing above all the other things, Shen Yuan only agreed to learn in order to please her.

Chang’e is the one who twirls and swirls and is impossibly graceful doing so, a butterfly in her element as she appears unburdened by gravity and gliding over the floor. Besides her, Shen Yuan can just wiggle and shake his butt and not fall on his nose. Wouldn’t that be a hoot, a godling with a broken nose ? He’s pretty sure that some martial deities have their share of scars, so nobody ought to call him out on this, and if they do, that’s not like Shen Yuan is handsome to begin with.

He borrows a fan – meaning, he shamelessly steals a fan in Shen Qingqiu’s collection when the man turns his back to him, a silken thing painted with a silvery-grey pond with a few dark green reeds as it was the one calling to him the most – finds a small nook away from the main classrooms, and there he practises his dance.

Of course he fucks up, with all the excitment from the latest days, it takes a bit for him to calm down. It takes a while for him to remember how to breath deep, so deeply his lungs threaten to burst, and he has to focus on the unpleasant feeling instead of the rising agitation in his mind, you cannot freak out when you’re so tired that it’s hard to think in sentences, you cannot look at yourself and lamenting over the ugly details when you’re closing your eyes.

Dancing with his eyes closed is weirdly comforting, Shen Yuan cannot see Qing Jing Peak’s scenery. He doesn’t mean to offend, this is a really impressive and majestic peak, but it’s not the Fragrant Palace’s gardens with the flowering trees and a thousand upon thousands different blossoms and the high stone walls enclosing the place, the jewellery box in which you hide your treasures.

When dancing with his eyes closed, Shen Yuan can pretend he’s in the Fragrant Palace’s gardens, right under his niang’s favorite apricot tree, she loves dancing near this tree or maybe she just decided it was the perfect place for her to teach her son how to pitifully mimic her ? With his eyes closed, he can pretend Qing Jing’s always present whisper in his ear is Chang’e gently suggesting for him to move his left foot a bit closer, to lift his right elbow a mite higher, don’t clutch that fan so tightly or you’re going to break it, that’s it, Yuan’er, you’re doing it, do you feel the flow now ?

Because everything in the world is constantly flowing, constantly moving, and Shen Yuan remembers what Hong’er told him so long ago, about everything having a voice and singing together, and yet nobody is able to hear.

But as Shen Yuan is twirling and swirling and breathing and moving , he almost thinks he got it, or rather he doesn’t think at all as he fully sinks into the dance, letting his training to overpower his conscious mind and flow through his body, as he becomes this animated puppet without strings to animate him.

He’s no longer himself, and how liberating it can be, he’s no longer a godling or a guest on Qing Jing Peak and how soothing it can be, he’s nothing but a rythm as he instinctively tunes his dance with the soft, green humming in his inner ear, Qing Jing wanting to play with him, his celestial qi nurtured by the Moon and the mountain’s own lifeforce that grew with the bamboo groves and the burbling streams and the animals calling it home and the cultivators who later came and tended to the place.

Shen Yuan never will be a great dancer but he thinks he can get a glimpse of why his niang enjoys it so much.

Chapter Text

That was with tremendous relief that Wu Wang finally glimpsed the high peaks of the Tian Gong mountain range climbing towards the sky as if they wished to reach the Heavens themselves, on the horizon.

His old bones were part of that – even with the benefits of cultivation and his fellow monks’ help to travel more or less comfortably, it nonetheless couldn’t fully stop age from slowly spreading in his marrow and soft tissues, leaving him a creaking, exhausted shell of a man who longed for a seat in which he could sink and close his eyes for a shichen or three.

Another reason was the fact that the Zhao Hua delegation had spent the last leg of the travel in close quarters with the Tian Yi delegation, and these nuns – for all their demure and stern aqua robes and horsetail whisks – were more a bunch of gossiping, silly highborn maidens excited by the prospect of ogling an Imperial prince than a band of dignified cultivators. Their Mother Superior didn’t even try to scold them, a slight grin on her face as she shrugged off in front of Wu Chen’s disapproving glare, what can you do in front of the passions of youth ?

Of course, she might have concluded that the grave matter at hand more than justified her nuns’ barely restrained enthusiasm. A Heavenly Official, that wasn’t nothing after all ! Truly a momentous event, something one would remember for the decades to come !

If this truly is a Heavenly Official , Wu Wang forcefully reminded himself, letting his hands quiver in exhaustion rather than anticipation. Be patient, for it’s better to be called an overcautious dullard than to rush in and be derided as an easily tricked fool .

He reminded himself to be cautious, and yet the closer their procession came to the mountain range, the more the old abbot could detect something in the air. Something almost impossible to perceive, mortal senses would be too weak and inadequate, even cultivation-enhanced audition was barely enough to pinpoint this slow, whispery humming, as if someone was quietly singing to themselves, hidden right out of sight to avoid disturbing everybody else.

The low-ranked nuns and monks allowed to join the delegations in order to serve as attendants and scribes were cheerfully oblivious, their attunement to the spiritual far too meager for hearing the humming, but Wu Wang carefully checked on Wu Chen and the Mother Superior – for once, his old friend seemed more stunned than grumpy, and the Tian Yi Overlook Head was so intensely focused that her face appeared carved from pure granite, one of these statues abandoned deep within dark grottos to honour forgotten deities.

So busy contemplating this humming and its implications were they, the delegation couldn’t muster any annoyance when their greeting commitee at the great gate opening on the great stairs was revealed to be a Qiong Ding Disciple instead of Sect Leader Yue himself. Usually, guests from another sect would be welcomed by the one who suggested them to come in the first place, and Yue Qingyuan had begged for Tian Yi and Zhao Hua’s help in testing their unexpected visitor’s godhood, so for him to lack the elementary courtesy to show himself to the delegation would be breathtakingly rude – in ordinary circumstances, but the current situation was everything yet usual, wasn’t it ?

The humming was proof of that, and as the Qiong Ding Disciple quietly asked for the honoured guests to follow him on the Qing Jing Peak, soon you shall understand why you had to come quickly, Wu Wang wanted to bit down on his tongue to soothe his rising excitation.

Patience, and caution. He tried to remind himself he needed to display these, but that was difficult as they slowly climbed the stairs leading to the second most important Peak of Cang Qiong – for the place had a serene, aloof beauty the old abbot had admired twice in his life, but now…

Now, the addition of something impossible to define – impossible to grasp – had changed everything, and the majestic mountain was softly vibrating in harmony with a qi that wasn’t spiritual in nature, and it wasn’t natural either, it was beyond the crass, vulgar Earthly existence and that mere understanding was enough for Wu Wang to blink tears away from his eyes.

Muffled sobs in his back indicated some in the delegation weren’t faring that well in mastering their emotion, and from the way the Qiong Ding Disciple’s shoulders were shaking, these youthful cheeks were streaming with flowing rivers.

Still, the youngster didn’t falter in his step, guiding the delegation towards a small grove far away from the buildings and training courtyards, and as they walked, they saw many Disciples and Hallmasters and teachers, and they weren’t all from Qing Jing but everyone was still and their eyes lost in a faraway place, as the foreign qi was gently flowing all around them, humming and wistful and just distant enough for one to realise it would be a fool’s dream to try and catch it.

It should have been worrying. It should have been grounds for alarm. Wu Wang should have rejected the foreign qi as it softly whispered against his robes and his skin, snowflakes made of moonlight chiming and making his meridians and dantians feel comfortably loose and relaxed, and yet…

When the Qiong Ding Disciple finally stopped walking, they were standing at the edge of a small meadow in a bamboo grove, the twelve Peak Lords standing still and silent and watching the figure dancing in the meadow’s center.

The figure –

The old abbot blinked and gasped –

Pristine white everywhere, from the silken garment covering flawless skin to the flowing loose hair spilling in the air as starlight, motes of this foreign qi rising from the white towards the Heavens before falling upon the bamboo and the gathered beasts and cultivators as they witnessed the dance, so much qi it beggared belief and it freely was given by this immaculate figure as they danced –

Dancing as if nothing else mattered under the Heavens, dancing as the Moon and stars danced together in the night sky, such a perfect choregraphy that humans had no hope to ever ape this grace and beauty, merely thinking about attempting to do so surely would be a grave insult, for witnessing such a spectacle was enough for the proudest courtesan to fall to her knees and weep in awe –

Awe in which a hidden pain was nestled, because the dance wasn’t balanced, it was obvious when one looked at the footsteps, it was meant to be danced with a partner yet the pristine white figure was dancing on their own and it felt wrong, it felt lonely as the moon when clouds were blocking the starlight and the understanding was making you cry, because it was beyond your ability to help, beyond anyone’s ability to fix, be it the lowliest beggar or the Son of Heaven on his golden throne –

« Chang’e. »

Who said that ? Wu Wang was unsure and he wanted to twitch in distress, the whisper rudely intruding on the private, sacred moment, and yet – yet it made sense, didn’t it ?

Chang’e, the fairy who dwelt on the Moon, forever mourning the husband she left behind as she ascended to godhood. Chang’e, she who endowed maidens with a meager fraction of the beauty she called her own but it was enough for nobody could lay eyes upon her without being struck mute and dumb by her likeness.

« Chang’e » someone else whispered, impossibly reverent, as if speaking to a lost beloved, and soon the name was whispered again by yet another voice.

Voices upon voices, akin to the paper lanterns on which people would scrawl prayers for love and good fortune before releasing them in the sky, in the hope they would carry their wishes to the one able to grant them.

« Chang’e. Chang’e. Chang’e. »

Chapter Text

When you’re completely, utterly focused on something you’re doing, it’s easy to lose your grasp on time – Shen Yuan remembers his mother entering his bedroom in order to rip the book he was reading out of his hands, she had called him to dinner three times already, next time I will throw your book in the bin and put a padlock on the library, do your hear me ?

Of course, she would have never dared – books were so much better than mindless, violent video games such as the ones er-ge enjoyed so much, even when they were the kind of trash barely worth wasting paper and ink to print them.

(maybe she actually wound up throwing them as trash, after Shen Yuan finally died, that wasn’t like he was there to stop her, that wasn’t like his memory mattered enough for his family to desperately hoard his former belongings as mementos of him)

(he had so few of them anyway, too sickly to care about accumulating material possessions since he wouldn’t get to use them after his demise so what was the point, especially when you could borrow or rent so many things)

So when he lost himself to the flow of dancing, to the rythm of the world all around him, when he opens his eyes again, he has the surreal feeling that no time at all passed in spite of his feet and calves and shoulders sending slight twinges of discomfort in his nerves, and since he’s a godling it means he danced long enough for normal people to go to sleep and wake up and eat their dinner, rinse and repeat several times.

Fuck, he hopes Shen Qingqiu enjoyed his impromptu vacation and won’t complain about people bothering him for losing a guest, because he’s going to vent his spleen on the most deserving target and without Shen Yuan to get pissy at, surely he has slapped Binghe silly for breathing too loudly ! No, he’s not exaggerating, the scum villain actually has done that – the other Disciples were taking some poetry test and somebody complained about the poor sheep ruining their focus and of course the trash Peak Lord jumped on the opportunity to indulge his child-abusing tendences, claiming the helpless bun was sabotaging his martial siblings’ studies ! Really, dude ? You dare to say that when you had no qualms saddling your whipping boy with a false cultivation manual ? When your little goon squad is openly spilling ink on Luo Binghe’s essay to make him fail ? Isn’t that the very definition of academic sabotage ?!

Wait, Shen Qingqiu is there, and he looks – pretty weird, actually, as if an alien from the Roswell kind had jumped out of his wardrobe to ask if he could borrow his bike. And – there’s Yue Qingyuan too, and he’s looking just as bamboozled, and also Mu Qingfang, Liu Qingge just looks about to have an aneurysm and…

Holy crap, that’s a fuckload of people, Shen Yuan is ready to bet three quarters of the Twelve Peaks are represented there, and there’s several old monks and a bunch of nuns whose robes don’t look familiar at all, is that the delegation Tian Yi and Zhao Hua promised to send ? Shite, he really has danced for a long time, he still had one week to wait when he started…

… Since when all these people are there ? For so many bystanders to come, surely it took a while and when your cultivation has advanced enough to let you practise inedia, you can stand until several weeks in a row rooted at the same spot, so.

People have watched Shen Yuan dancing.

An humiliated flush burns under the godling’s pale skin, because he knows what he looks like when he’s practicing his footsteps – clumsy and awkward and constantly needing for his niang to correct him, how many times did he almost stumble and barely avoided to trip on his own feet ? How many times did these people swallow their laughter as he shook his useless butt and made a spectacle of himself ?

They are staring at him, and Shen Yuan wants nothing more than burst into tears but he cannot – when Binghe was crying, Ming Fan and the other Disciples and the Hallmasters and Shen Qingqiu more than all the others would mercilessly lambast him for his weakness, good for nothing else than selling his body to someone happy to cut him down in small pieces for evil cultivation, so pathetic you’re fucking disgusting, have you done shaming us or do we need to publically disgrace and expell you from the sect ?

He swallows, and does his utmost to freeze his face. The slightest mistake is forbidden to him.

Lingling is a warm, comforting weight against his legs as she puts herself between the gawping crowd and her Young Master, in spite of being so tiny and a prey animal who couldn’t scratch a single cultivator before dropping. Shen Yuan loves her so much.

« All of you had the honour to behold the Young Master Shen Yuan, only child to the esteemed Moon fairy, Lady Chang’e, she who dances at the feet of the Highest Emperor’s throne » she loudly declares, as if challenging everybody to a fight.

Her words ring clearly in qi-saturated air – shite, did Shen Yuan leak everywhere, he’s really a fucking mess and Shen Qingqiu is going to strangle him for spreading all over his peak – and a great deal of people in the crows uneasily shift from one foot to the other, coughing in their sleeve or playing with their fingers, and the godling wants to laugh at them for being so pitiful, they’re scared of a bunny.

He doesn’t laugh. If he opens his mouth right now, he just might scream or vomit, he’s unsure.

Finally, a nun in foreign aqua robes, a horsetail whisk stuck under her elbow, deeply bows towards him.

« Might this humble sister speak for Tian Yi Overlook and thank your Celestial Highness for granting us the blessing of watching your Highness » she carefully enunciates and something ugly crawls beneath Shen Yuan’s epidermis.

She’s fucking mocking him, even if her voice is perfectly even, she’s obviously mocking him because first of all, he’s not a Celestial Highness whatsoever, he told that to Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu and Mu Qingfang, as the son of a pop idol without a husband and who snubs the Imperial Court to hide in the countryside he cannot lay claim to an influent title at all.

Second, she claims it’s a blessing to watch him. While he’s clumsily shaking his butt and waving his hands in the air as a dumbass, as he pitifully tries and fails to ape his mother’s effortless grace and otherworldliness.

His chest is aching – almost as bad as the day after a surgery, even through the haze of morphine it would throb and itch and drive him mad.

And when Shen Yuan is really mad, he needs fucking air or he’s going to spit ugly, ugly words he cannot take back.

His mouth opens, and it’s a minor miracle for him to not shriek, for his voice to stay cool and even.

« This wretch is to be called Young Master, and he precisely knows how much of a blessing his dance is worth. »

He cannot keep standing there anymore, his meridians are so cold and quiet that he wants to curl on the grassy soil and never wake up, he cannot let himself be vulnerable in front of all these peeping toms, he cannot –

He barely takes the time to gather Lingling in his arms before running away.

Chapter Text

Qing Jing’s voice is swirling around Shen Yuan, as it did while he was losing himself in the dance, but this time it gently ushers him down a path then another, guiding his feet towards a quiet little pond near a gurgling waterfall – well, not so much of a waterfall, barely wide as his arm and he’s not very muscled to begin with – because obviously, the mountain is detecting his desperate need to flee the crowd.

A fucking crowd. Even in his previous life, Shen Yuan couldn’t deal with a crowd – he never actually learned because there was no need, when he was constantly stuck at home or the hospital, and even when he was attending school people would leave him on his own, he was sickly and as such uninteresting or the other kids were intimidated by his parents’ money, in both cases he was left friendless.

Which was fine – Shen Yuan is awkward and stubborn and weirdly focused on books and games, the picture perfect Hollywood nerd who got beaten behind the loo for his lunch money, and he would rather take a lack of friends than getting bullied, his face is too thin for him to survive bullying with his self-esteem whole.

(and if he doesn’t have friends, it means less people to cry over his looming demise, but it rings false because he cannot really imagine people crying at his funeral)

(at the most they likely sighed in relief because it was finally done, they didn’t have to wonder if the phone would ring and deliver the news that the Shen family didn’t have three sons anymore, it finally happened and how light his parents and siblings had to feel in the wake of this, without this constant weight burdening their days)

Really, the closest he got to deal with a crowd was when posting on the chatrooms and he was fucking cheating because he wasn’t interacting with these dudes in real time, he was merely reading their comments and answering back in some attempt to explain why they were wrong – and they got pissed or they called him mean and unable to understand a joke, bunch of babies who refused to grow up.

So Shen Yuan doesn’t know how to deal with crowds, and this brand new life didn’t really help. So far, when his niang was summoned at the Imperial Palace, when they had to come to some soirée or another thing, they always followed the etiquette, and Nanny was always quite happy to monopolize Shen Yuan’s time and nobody sane wanted to stay in close quarters with the trolling old biddy unless she decided you would be a perfect pranking target, so.

He never learned, because there never was a need and now it fucking went and blew right in his face. He gloomily stares at the shallow pond and remembers warning ads about some dumbass tourist managing to drown in a puddle, but he really cannot leave his poor helpless Lingling alone on the Twelve Peaks, sure they would spoil her since she’s a toddler-sized bunny and a breathing weapon of mass squeeing over her cuteness, but she wouldn’t be able to go home.

Said bunny is currently wriggling in his arms.

« Is the Young Master alright ? Aish, what an idiot this one is, of course not… »

The godling forces his mouth to smile, he practised so much the skill in his previous life that you wouldn’t be able to call him out on the lie.

« Lingling is a very devoted retainer, one I am happy to have besides me » he declares, because he won’t let her believe she’s an idiot, she’s merely young so her lack of experience is to be excused and not condemned. « But this crowd was getting stuffy, and I never asked for them to ogle me anyway. »

Really, how can a-Niang dance in front of the Highest Emperor and the Queen Mother of the West and their many vassals and servants, it beggars belief. Either she’s made of sterner stuff than her worthless spawn, or she’s picturing all of them wearing silly hats or brushing their teeth to soothe her nerves.

Shen Yuan tries to mentally put a silly hat on Shen Qingqiu’s head and pulls a dismayed face – the scum villain truly is exceptional, he could walk around naked and still he’s the most terrifying man to live in the Middle Kingdom !

He doesn’t even try to repeat the exercise with Yue Qingyuan – that would be just mean in a depressing way – or Liu Qingge – because nothing can ruin that man’s appealing features, Madam Liu has to be something else entirely for passing such good genetics down to her offspring. Welp, it looks like he’s doomed then !

After the shameful exhibition he just gave to all these peeping toms, he already smells the pungent perfume of nasty rumors spreading about Qing Jing’s unwanted guest who clumsily shakes his butt instead of training his swordsmanship – as if Shen Yuan can wield a blade without threatening to cut his own head instead of his opponent’s – and sheds qi all over the peak, surely Shen Qingqiu is sneering and complaining about his mountain being infected or something, that douche is territorial as fuck but on the other hand, Shen Yuan basically did the xianxia equivalent of showering in his personal bathroom and covering the place with dirty water and hair and that’s fucking gross.

And because Shen Qingqiu is pissed off for a very good reason, Yue Qingyuan likely will be annoyed too, in a very gentle, polite manner, just like da-ge when he popped up in Shen Yuan’s flat to check on his younger brother and started pointing at the dust bunnies wandering on the carpet, the cupboard almost empty except for some packaged food about to expire, the unmade bed with sheets left from last month, and are you really certain you don’t need a maid, because everything I have seen so far certainly would point at the contrary !

… He misses da-ge, because da-ge would smile and stroke his cheek and would call someone on his phone and then the entire crowd of peeping toms would suddenly find themselves blacklisted by every single important corporation in China.

… He misses er-ge, because er-ge would snap and snarl and scream colourful insults at the crowd until his voice is gone, hugging Shen Yuan all the while as a fluffy kitten.

… He misses Hong’er, because Hong’er would have no qualms physically slapping all these powerful cultivators for their shamelessness just like he did to that swine who forced a kiss on a-Niang.

… He misses his niang because a-Niang wouldn’t give a fuck about these cultivators tripping over their feet to apologize, she would directly bring him back home.

… He misses home.

But he’s not home, and even if Qing Jing Peak’s whisper is sweet and gentle, it cannot replace the Fragrant Palace.

Chapter Text

Since he’s currently on Qing Jing Peak, Shen Yuan vaguely expects for Shen Qingqiu to come and drag him away from his hideout. Or maybe Liu Qingge, since Bai Zhan Peak was mentioned to train hunters and trackers, so he would be a logical choice.

But no, it has to be the trash author himself, Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky in all his crappy, pitiful glory. Seriously, how did he ever manage to convince the former An Ding Peak Lord that he would be a good successor ? Shen Yuan only has to look at him twitching – and he’s constantly twitching, you would believe he sat on a cactus and couldn’t remove all the spikes from his butt – to feel annoyance rising up, and his lone answer is Canon shenanigans, if Shang Qinghua was written as the An Ding Peak Lord in the source material then Shang Qinghua no matter how undeserving has to be the An Ding Peak Lord.

« Cucumber-bro, if your goal was for everybody to panic and wonder if you found a way to fuck off back to Heaven on your own, well congratulations ! I swear, if you don’t go back and show yourself to everybody, they are going to blow the whole mountain range and I really don’t want to deal with the consequences of that . »

« If you’re trying to persuade me to spare you misery, it’s not working » Shen Yuan ominously confesses to his fellow transmigrator.

« Dude » Shang Qinghua snorts. « Have you ever heard of the volcano that wiped the Cretan kingdom off the map ? It gave Plato the inspiration for Atlantis, man, that’s how apocalyptic it was, and if one of the Twelve Peaks wants to throw a tantrum, that’s how creamed China is. And not just China, the ashes could actually be carried as far as Europe. »

« Holy fuck, that’s epic » the godling cannot help but comment, one pale eyebrow raised on his forehead and threatening to disappear in his hairline.

« Suure, that’s epic when you’re living several centuries after the event » the An Ding Peak Lord whines, « not so much when you’re at ground zero. Or when you’re a peasant and the ash rain is killing all your crops and cattle, and that can last three years at the very least, not funny at all. »

Lingling lowly hisses under her breath as she flattens her ears on her downy skull, and Shang Qinghua eyeballs her with more curiosity than genuine fear. Let’s face it, it’s impossible to take a bunny as a serious threat to your health unless you have watched the Monty Pythons’ idea of the Arthurian myth, and even so, Shen Yuan thinks raising a rabbit of Caerbannog in the Fragrant Palace might not be such a problem. Tu’er Ye certainly wouldn’t allow it to run amok.

« The Young Master never gave you the permission to adress him with such disrespect, human cultivator » she points, and whoops.

Shen Yuan kisses the top of her fuzzy head – right at the junction between the skull and the ears, it’s a ticklish spot and her siblings just love being petted there – to soothe her.

« Don’t worry about it, Shang Qinghua is different. »

The dark-furred rabbit ogles her Young Master, obviously suspecting him from being a dumbass and it stings a lot. Lingling ! How dare you to betray him so, when he needs a great deal of comfort after publically humiliating himself without even being aware of what he was doing !

« Because he has the potential to meet the Queen Mother of the West ? » she asks, her ruby eyes narrowed and inquisitive.

The transmigrated author coughs in his hand.

« Yeah, about that… might I please get a pass, because I’m already juggling my disciples, and the other Peak Lords treading on eggshells around me, and fuck I don’t even want to imagine how my King is going to take that , his pet cultivator being poached by the Upper Realm, he will throw a hissy fit to end them all, I guarantee that ! »

« That sounds like a problem for you, but I fail to see how it’s a problem for me » Shen Yuan fires back. « Well, unless I grant your wish, then the old biddy can keep pestering me when she’s bored, and now it’s a problem for me instead of being your problem. »

« Cucumber bro ! What a meanie ! Aren’t you supposed to be nice and compassionate and all this mercifulness jazz, since you’ve ascended ? » Shang Qinghua dramatically wails, a smidge too loud for it to be anything but faked.

« Stop confusing me for Guanyin, you dumbass. Me and my mother are fucking Taoists, none of this Buddhist crap. »

Airplane rolls his eyes.

« After five millenias sharing the same country, that’s impossible to avoid interfaith contamination so shut your trap and come back with me. At least long enough for everybody to be reassured that you didn’t run away, Cang Qiong really wouldn’t like to have that much egg on the face, losing a deity as you would lose one hairpin, Huan Hua Palace wouldn’t let us live it down until Luo Binghe’s final assault… By the way, what the fuck have you done to my son ? » the author suddenly asks.

« Excuse me ? » Shen Yuan sniffs.

« My Protagonist, bro ! He was in the crowd with all the other Qing Jing disciples, looking at your little performance and Oda be my witness, you were fucking awesome, dude, then you fucked off and Luo Binghe basically blackens on the fucking spot ! I seriously was afraid for the Tian Yi lady that spoke to you, he glared at her as if he wanted to set her on fire... »

« Are you shitting with me, you hack ? » the merciless reader sneers. « Forgetting your own protagonist’s characterization, he would never raise a hand against a woman when he can papapa her dumb and add her to his harem ! But of fucking course, you forgot a novel is supposed to have a plot worth the name , so why not ? »

« Really, guy, that was weird and since you’re the most recent exciting thing to have happened to the Sect, that’s entirely your fault » Airplane fired back. « My protagonist isn’t supposed to be the worshipping kind, he’s a strong, independent character... »

« With an unfortunate addiction to papapa and a complete inability to acknowledge he should go to therapy instead of feeding it ? » Shen Yuan snidely adds.

« Hey, that’s not like therapy is a thing in xianxia China. I mean, you’re hearing voices, are you going to think you’re haunted, or you have schizophrenia ? One you can exorcize, the other you have to endure for a lifespan... »

« That’s – a pretty good argument. Why couldn’t you do that all the time, when you still were writing your trash ? »

« Sex is selling. That’s an unfortunate truth of mankind. Just go and visit Xian Shu Peak, they have a writing workshop and their most popular author has a major hard on for boy’s love, the very explicit kind. »

« Oh for fuck ’s sake… You know what ? I would rather go back and face all these peeping toms than suffer one minute more of this conversation. »

« Great ! If your Celestial Highness agrees to follow this measly wretch... »

As Shang Qinghua dipped in an exaggerated bow, Shen Yuan rolled his eyes.

What a dumbfuck.

Chapter Text

When the pair of transmigrated souls – and a fluffy bunny – finally reaches civilization again, there’s a buttload of people running everywhere and looking like they just learned they’re supposed to attend a very important job interview tomorrow in the morning but their car is busted, the trains are on strike and weather will likely prevent the airplanes from flying.

Seriously, that’s ridiculous. Have you never seen a nerdy shut-in having a meltdown because he’s gone too long without exposing himself to the polluted atmosphere of a modern urban landscape and is now forced to run back to his flat under pain of hacking a lung on the road ? Wait, that’s xianxia China, of course they never did. Put these people in front of a computer and they will believe tiny midget people are playacting inside to entertain their owner.

Then someone notices them awkwardly standing near a gravel path and shrieks or yelps and suddenly that’s a fucking circus unleashed. Really, Shen Yuan is ashamed of Airplane’s writing skills – cannot even write dignified cultivators or monks, think about your face, ah !

« Master Shang ! Master Shang has found his Celestial Highness ! »

« Well, of course he did, he’s favoured by the Upper Realm. Didn’t you hear about him possibly meeting the Queen Mother of the West ? »

Shen Yuan almost chokes as he tamps down on his potent urge to snort so strongly that he will knock himself unconscious because Shang Qinghua, favoured by the Heavens ? You would have more luck looking in the opposed direction. On the hack author’s side, dude is twitching and shifting in the way indicating he very much wants to hysterically laugh or curl in his bed with a truckload of ice cream and sob his eyes out.

« Young Master Shen » Yue Qingyuan politely smiles at them but that’s the kind of smile that makes your skin itch as if you were wearing too small clothes because someone wants to be a petty shit and swapped the content of your wardrobe, « this Sect Leader hopes your walk was refreshing. »

The godling is starting to wonder why Proud Immortal Demon Way constantly insisted on the Qiong Ding Peak Lord being a perpetual fount of kindness and understanding. Luo Binghe is supposed to be smart, or at least having survival instincts honed by his years growing as a half-feral servant brat and Qing Jing’s designated whipping boy, why didn’t he ever run away screaming in terror after facing such an expression ?

… Because he never had the opportunity to watch Yue Qingyuan being a bitch, Shen Yuan you fucking dumbass, the dude always turned in a whimpering simp around Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe isn’t an omniscient narrator ! If he doesn’t know something, then it won’t appear in the novel !

May Airplane find his armpits crawling with lice right after getting both his hands broken so as to prevent him from relieving the itch through scratching, it will teach him to make his characters less unidimensional and it will save his poor, beleaguered reader from having to improvise when confronted by a peeved Sect Leader with the influence to make his life quite difficult as long as he’s stuck on Earth.

Shen Yuan slightly bows his head, and a whisper buzzes in the crowd. Fuck, he’s betting he didn’t dip his head low enough, surely a cultivator as famed as the Xuan Su sword deserves more acknowledgement from a measly pop idol’s brat ! Cannot he manage to bumble his way through this interaction without shaming himself yet again ? Wang Wang is going to cry and wonder how he failed that much in teaching rites to his mistress’ son, and Xiao Lan will get so upset over his perceived uselessness as a tutor that he won’t leave his bed for days .

Shen Yuan will have to cuddle them so much in order to be forgiven.

« Many apologies for the inconvenience » he speaks aloud, and his voice isn’t wavering by a sheer miracle. « And this was a very enjoyable walk. Qing Jing is a beautiful place and Master Shen is rightfully proud of it. »

There, he gave a compliment, so please don’t let the scum villain flay him alive as the guy is so obviously dreaming of doing so ! All around him, the mountain’s humming gains an almost amused colouration, and also becomes tinted with warmth and the kind of tipsy, bubbly happiness when it’s your birthday and the boy you’re crushing on is praising your new dress and makeup, and that’s the best gift you will receive for the occasion even if your parents are so wealthy they can throw a private concert with your favorite idol singer only for you and your friends.

Shen Qingqiu – is staring at him, a weird pout on his lips as his hand is stroking his fan a smidge too casually for it to not be some nervous tick. Is he conflicted about something ? The Qing Jing Peak Lord is a very harsh, decisive person, a consequence of being Cang Qiong’s strategist, it’s impossible to be effective in such a position if you are waffling over the costs or the damages incurred by one side or the other, so that’s pretty strange of him to appear such.

« … Young Master Shen is deeply generous towards this humble peak and every soul calling it their home » he ultimately utters. « Will the Young Master repeat his performance on Cang Qiong’s other Peaks ? »

Oh ho ho – so the scum villain still needs to mock and drive the nail deeper in the flesh, doesn’t he ? Asking if Shen Yuan is going to expose himself further to ridicule and criticism by going to shake his butt eleven times more, each in a different location to maximize the humiliation factor and ensure as many people as possible will behold his spazzing self ? Maybe Shen Qingqiu intents to sell tickets, he’s bitchy enough to do so ?

Shen Yuan’s eyes are burning yet stubbornly stay dry.

« This humble one will have to disappoint you, since it will be one of a kind. Do enjoy what you already have. »

The scum villain twists his pout in an even weirder expression. Is he frustrated because his plan has been foiled ? He kinda looks like he has been waken up from a well-deserved nap to be informed he just won the big prize at the lottery through the radio – desperately needing coffee to fully register the good news.

(why does he bear such a likeness to er-ge)

(he wants his brother , he misses him, he misses his grumbling and fierce affection and even his endless complains about so and so)

Shen Yuan’s eyes stay dry.

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu wanted to spit all the drops of blood his body still contained, maybe that would lessen the fucking headache this godling was saddling him with.

Since he dropped on Qing Jing Peak, this Shen Yuan had been nothing but a problem – dragging the jianghu’s eyes on Cang Qiong, openly disrespecting a teacher, paying attention to disgusting wretches from the kind of Shang Qinghua and Luo Binghe, putting himself in a dangerous situation by nearing a qi-deviating crazed Liu Qingge, vanishing immediately after being greeted by the envoy sent by Tian Ti Overlook without even bothering to greet her back.

Yes, a fucking problem and the strategist of the Twelve Peaks knew he wasn’t alone in thinking such, that was obvious in the way Yue Qingyuan’s bland smile was tense and pinched at the corners, as if he had forgotten how to naturally do so and was forcing his expression to stay on his face with string and glue.

There was a great deal of nuance in the Qiong Ding Peak Lord’s thought to be perpetual smile, but since almost everyone was a fucking idiot who wasn’t interest in paying attention to something beyond their own navel, nobody had noticed. Except for Shen Qingqiu, but he shamelessly cheated – he had known Yue Qi long before the older street rat decided to conceal everything about him beneath high-class robes and perfect upper-class manners.

Yue Qi and the streets had been Xiao Jiu’s initial training in reading people – you had to peg the right suckers whose pockets to pick or approach with pleading, teary eyes, you had to be aware of the slavers being in a good mood or not if you wanted to avoid a walloping that would leave you limping and sore for a week and a half, you had to mistrust the right urchins to keep your hard-won food or loot to yourself instead of helplessly watching them in other hands.

After the streets, his training grew in harshness with the Qiu Manor and Yu Wanzi, and it didn’t actually stepped back when he was dragged on Qing Jing Peak as a feral, disrespectable mess because any Disciple and hallmaster and teacher was carefully watching everyone else, one mistake and his ass would have been grass.

So yes, Shen Qingqiu was proud regarding his ability to read people. That was his best survival tactic, how he avoided death or rape or so many wretched fates so many times in his lifespan.

But now he couldn’t read the Heavenly brat and that – no, he wasn’t scared, he was done with fear since he was big enough to hiss and snarl and kick back at anyone looking down upon him, it was far better to get angry and nasty, wrath gave you strength when fear would only sap it from your limbs. So he was pissed off, because he couldn’t read the godling.

He was supposed to be simple as a reading, nothing but a spoiled whelp showered with luxuries and privilege when he was still latched on his mother’s teat – Shen Qingqiu constantly dealt with such noble scions as one heading the Scholar Peak that was supposed to turn these insolent, unruly beastlings in properly raised gentlemen, he was familiar with their whining and the tantrums they would throw and how fucking blind they were at the possibility of someone loathing them because that would mean they weren’t universally loved.

The godling was supposed to be all that, self-centered and immature and constantly pining for the life he had been unexpectedly forced to leave behind, waiting for the first opportunity to regain his former place among the elite – he was all that, yet –

Yet –

The Heavenly brat claiming mousy, snivelling Shang Qinghua was worthy to meet the Queen Mother of the West and sit at her feet to learn secrets the greatest Emperors alone had been entitled to receive –

The Heavenly brat not batting one single eyelash in front of Liu Qingge’s rampage and wrestling his qi deviation in nonexistence when he could have asked for the Bai Zhan brute’s head to be gifted to him on a platter for imperiling his life and well-being and Cang Qiong wouldn’t have another choice but complying –

The Heavenly brat performing a mountain-wide ritual dance blessing in one of Qing Jing’s groves without the slightest prompting, and the waters and the wind were quietly singing and even the constant dull ache in the Peak Lord’s mistreated meridians wasn’t that noticeable anymore –

The Heavenly brat bowing his head to Yue Qingyuan in front of the delegations sent by Tian Yi and Zhao Hua, giving Cang Qiong a major fucking boost in fame and influence because the Heavens themselves had acknowledged the Qiong Ding Peak Lord’s existence instead of merely treating him as yet another subject to command, pretty good achievement for a gutter rat born of a hundred rapes and hysterical bubbles threatened to turn Shen Qingqiu’s mind weightless and drunk stupid, that was just too fucking much –

What in the Eighteen Hells was the spoiled whelp’s angle ? It had to be some kind of cunning plan, part of a devious strategy – there was no other reason for him to heap so much favour upon a measly human sect, he grew up in the Upper Realm as a student to the Divine Mother, he couldn’t be a political dumbfuck !

Shen Qingqiu knew how the song and the dance went, nobody important would ever gift something genuinely precious without expecting something in exchange. Always, a gift came with strings attached, the expectation of repayment one day because such a treasure had to be earned, the gift-receiver had to show they genuinely deserved to be considered an investment, otherwise the gifts would stop and you would fall in disgrace and then you would find every door closed on your path because you weren’t worth it.

Nobody would gift something just because – they always wanted something back, be it a favour as many officials bribed into suddenly turning deaf and blind to less than perfectly legal trades, be it Yue Qingyuan constantly dropping gaudy trinkets in the Bamboo house in his pitiful attempts to buy Shen Qingqiu’s silence on their shared criminal history as starving street urchins.

People weren’t interested in following Guanyin’s footsteps, the princess who had been a complete and utter freak of nature because she just couldn’t be bothered to give a shit about people spiting on her mercy and merely using her as a mean to laze around and assuage their moral qualms, because she was so singlemindedly determined, so mercilessly compassionate that she would fell in the Eighteen Hells and turn them in a true paradise for damned souls who deserved oblivion and torture a thousand thousands times…

She had been barking mad, there was no explanation for her careless, unending kindness, her constantly giving and giving and giving and no matter how much she was taken advantage of, she wouldn’t diminish, she wouldn’t let her light be dimmed but would keep on spreading her universal radiance for the whole world to bask in the warmth of her gentleness, her understanding, her love.

She had been a freak of nature, an anomaly in the great scheme of nature and the Universe as ordained by the Highest Emperor, and so the Heavenly brat couldn’t take after her. He just couldn’t. He wasn’t that careless, or dumb, he wasn’t that good .

Nobody could be that kind in the Middle Kingdom.

Chapter Text

Finally, someone remembers Shen Yuan knows absolutely nobody in the delegation sent by the jianghu and decides it might be a good idea to introduce the guys responsible for all these peeping toms who obviously weren’t properly taught manners if they are mimicking goldfishes and gaping at a dumbass busy ruining his reputation for the next hundred years instead of pointedly ignoring him.

That combined with their track record of failures when facing the Protagonist – well, alright, that’s blackened Luo Binghe, they get a pass because Protagonist Halo plus Xin Mo means they never truly had any hope to win this fight – means Shen Yuan is unimpressed already, and as the monks and the nuns are bowing to him – far too low, they really don’t know anything about court etiquette, but what can you expect from a bunch of secluded cultivators more focused on religious enlightenment than hugging the local ruler’s thighs – he merely nods at them, his expression blank as he casually strokes Lingling’s head.

Having a fit earlier helps in reining his emotions, his nerves burned from the outburst and needing half a day to recover. He’s an unreachable fortress upon a harsh mountain, the jianghu’s armies will need serious planning if they want to break his walls down and slaughter everyone cowering in safety intra muros.

The old abbot is staring at him – and it’s rather hard to know what he’s thinking exactly, Shen Yuan leans towards holy fuck he’s young and not at all what I was expecting or something like that, that would explain the slack, stunned face, you would believe the wizened man in his saffron robes had just been squished by an overweight killer whale. The godling wonders if that was the face he pulled when he met Liu Qingge in all his youthful, boy’s band-worthy glory instead of a man embodying martial godhood as portrayed by so many xianxia works of fiction.

On the other hand, the head nun from Tian Yi is donning a wide, dopey smile, the kind you cannot help when you ate brownies spiked with a slightly worrying amount of special stuff and Shen Yuan doesn’t think marijuana was a thing in Proud Immortal Demon Way but all the shitty aphrodisiac plants and mushrooms could have some neat side effects, making you see pretty rainbow bubbles was the mildest one reported.

Still, a Sect Leader is supposed to show more class than coming high as a kite to a meeting between the big powers in the jianghu ! Shame on you, head nun ! Shame on your cow ! Shame on your chickens ! Wait, she’s a nun, has she sworn an oath of poverty ? Does she even own household pets for Shen Yuan to shame ?

Well, she might not have household pets, but her part of the delegation – a dozen blushing nuns in aqua robes, hungrily ogling his poor fluffy, lovable Lingling with such desperate need that he almost wishes to cave in and let them pamper the dark-furred rabbit to an inch of her life – has brought several tools in order to evaluate Qing Jing’s unwanted guest’s level of godhood. And the other part of the delegation – Zhao Hua in their saffron robes and these monks would benefit from Mu Qingfang giving them a new diet to follow, like holy crap they appear so constipated and awkward and pained about that, the transmigrated soul feels his asshole burning in spite of lacking the tiniest intestinal problem since he lost his human body – did the same, but their tools mostly aim to check if someone isn’t lying when they claim to be a Heavenly Official or having some kind of relationship with the Upper Realm.

Shen Yuan internally praises their mistrust, because hey – that’s not like anybody would take a look at him and immediately conclude his wretched self came from the Heavens, yes his residence is in the boonies even if they are Heavenly ones, frankly it’s a minor miracle for no one to have hurled the accusation of having been raised in a circus at his head. No, not a circus, an itinerant drama troup, that would be the best equivalent in ancient xianxia China.

Shen Yuan never went to the circus before his demise. Too many people sniffling and spitting all over the place, food from dubious quality and origins, exhausted performers and potentially abused animals, that really wasn’t a good recipe for the Shen family to gamble on their sickly third son enjoying the show.

So he’s patiently waiting for Tian Yi or Zhao Hua to do the first move – well, it ought to be Zhao Hua because their devices are made for detecting godhood, that’s mere logic for them to go first – and he flittingly wonders if it’s going to look like an hospital physical, something like drawing blood but much cooler because cultivation and all the shite it involves – when the old abbot seizes his hopes and mercilessly dashes them to the ground by claiming his Celestial Highness has given more than sufficient a proof when he jiggled his butt all over Qing Jing Peak.

Because Shen Yuan’s nerves are completely burned from his tantrum earlier in the day, he doesn’t scream so loudly that it would shatter the glass in a radius of two provinces, this fat blonde singer in the Belgian comics can go and eat her heart out, but he nonetheless mourns the urge to do so.

Yue Qingyuan – angel that he is, fortunately he’s the New Testament version right now instead of being in full-blown divine wrath mode – politely comments on the delegation’s decision, Cang Qiong wouldn’t want for the esteemed masters to have ransacked their treasure rooms and handled the transport of fragile items over such a long travel road for nothing, after all. Obviously the Sect Leader is seeking to cover the Twelve Peaks’ collective ass, Tian Yi or Zhao Hua might complain about wasted effort and wasted time later in the future because politics are ruthless, but he’s just so nice when saying the words, you only want to smile back and agree with him on every point.

Yet the other Sect Leaders are made of sterner stuff, they had to ascend to their positions for a reason after all in spite of lacking manners and indulging their addiction to weird mushrooms, and the head nun flashes her very white teeth in the widest, dopiest smile ever to insist that yes, the dance was enough, more than enough , really the amount of qi spilled by the exercise did the job, and the purity too, after a lifetime of honing your ability to gauge demonic qi and ghostly qi and natural qi and human qi, when you stumble upon something not belonging to a previously labelled category you will notice .

Shen Yuan shifts his posture oh so slightly, a frown making his lips twitch, because he was born and raised on the Moon, and that means he’s a spring of yin qi, and that…

Young Master is born to be loved by all .

He’s pretty sure that’s not the kind of information you would like to spread in the wild.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan will have to tread very, very carefully.

See, he doesn’t know if the jianghu down there is aware of yin springs existing – Xiao Lan implied they were pretty unusual, since living beings are yang by definition, daylight and reactiveness, and the opposite of that would rather be attached to inert things such as rocks, wouldn’t it ? Hard to find something more passive than a rock after all…

On the other hand, if anybody knows anything about his peculiar condition, that will be the Sects with the more obvious links to the Upper Realm, even if said bond is hopelessly one-sided because the Heavens don’t bother with the Middle Kingdom. Unless you are Nanny in a bored mood, then humans are fucked deep in the ass and need to pray for her to lose interest quickly. Unfortunately, Nanny is the kind to listen a prayer and do exactly the reverse of what is asked on a whim, since she’s a petty bitch worthy to haunt Weibo’s chatrooms and reduce throngs of people to tears through her sheer insensitivity and trollishness.

Fuck, if a monk or a nun wants to open his big mouth, Shen Yuan will have to flee from Cang Qiong. He has no wish to cause a riot – more than a few times, people in Proud Immortal Demon Way started to fight over some treasure or a poor girl who never wanted to be at the center of their attention or because a plant has blossomed and belched a sprawling cloud of aphrodisiac pheromones, and of course the Protagonist in all his OP glory would slaughter or gruesomely maim everybody involved except for the girl of the week whom he would shamelessly papapa and add to his harem.

Luo Binghe is currently fourteen years old ! Shen Yuan is no paedo, curse you Airplan for writing this trashy novel ! And ! Shen Yuan doesn’t like men this way, so the whole mess would be flat-out awkward for both parties ! Also, the Protagonist doesn’t even have his golden finger yet, and his demon blood is still thoroughly sealed, so if the representatives of three different Sects start slapping the piss out of each other, he’s going to go through the woodchipper and Shen Yuan is unsure about his victory being a certainty…

Liu Qingge might win the battle royale, he’s titled the War God after all – in spite of being a mere human and Shen Yuan likely ought to be offended for the Upper Realm but mostly he feels curious, is Liu Qingge really that good or is he laying claim to an undeserved fame ? The Bai Zhan Peak Lord never made a proper appearance in the webnovel – and the more Shen Yuan thinks about it, the more he gets pissed because that’s a stinking shame – and Liu Mingyan wasn’t what you would call an unbiased opinion, of course she would worship the ground on which her older brother walked and have a skewed view of his martial prowess…

Well, she looks like this breed of younger sister. Absolutely unlike Shen Yuan’s own meimei, lovely little pest wrapped in pink and wielding her barbed tongue against her poor, long-suffering brothers.

But there’s Yue Qingyuan to take in account – seriously, the blackened Protagonist himself was wary of fighting the Qiong Ding Peak Lord, he drew the guy into an ambush that was blatantly overkill and isn’t that flattering, for a Heavenly Demon to go that far in order to avoid fighting you ? Well, on a purely intellectual level since getting turned in a human-sized pincushion would be a very nasty and painful endeavour in real life.

Anyway, Shen Yuan really ought to stop the wild speculations – Cang Qiong and Zhao Hua and Tian Yi fighting each other no matter the reason would cause a major conflict in the jianghu, the kind of war lasting decades as these cultivators are pretty long-lived and hold a grudge worse than your aged auntie who still perfectly remembers your mom stealing grandma’s necklace to wear at her wedding and never giving it back afterwards.

That would be really ugly. And Shen Yuan doesn’t want to see Qing Jing ruined that way – doesn’t want for the ethereally serene, beautiful humming that surrounds him and softly hugs him as the most comfortable feather duvet to be strangled and choked by rivers of blood and piles of guts.

(have you thought about what’s going to happen in a few decades anyway, when a Heavenly half-breed will ascend as the Sacred Ruler of the Lower Realm and unleash his revenge against the Twelve Peaks)

(there won’t be a song anymore, because there won’t be a mountain anymore )

Hopefully, the low-ranked minions are unaware of what a yin spring is, and the head nun and the old abbot are far too addled by senility and weird mushrooms to remember all the implications of a denizen of the Upper Realm having unusual qi patterns.

Shen Yuan knows what kind of world Proud Immortal Demon Way is, a world that could have been great yet has been thoroughly ruined by the hack author who dreamed it into being. A world in which people are greedy and stupid, always so stupid and that’s a bad thing when mixed with greed because it guarantees the mobs won’t be able to exercize self-control.

Greed and stupidity together mean that when people think a treasure is in their reach, they will try and steal it. No matter the defences surrounding said treasure. No matter if the treasure is supposed to be a sacred relic or some other shite from the same cloth.

Sure, Zhao Hua and Tian Yi are supposed to be heavy on the religion and respect granted to the Upper Realm, but Cang Qiong is famed as the most righteous sect in the jianghu and has no qualms whatsoever to allow child abuse, so. And that’s not like Shen Yuan is very important as a Heavenly Official, so they might think hurting him is justified.

Surely they will think it, after seeing how wretched and unimpressive Shen Yuan is.

He doesn’t have a bow – he’s best with ranged weapons, mainly because it doesn’t involve physical contact with the opponent, and that’s really not his forte. His skill in knifework won’t let him accidentally slice his own finger, and the first rule is so very simple that even he can remember it, stick the other guy with the pointy end , but that doesn’t mean he’s good enough to do more than defend himself for a few minutes.

He misses Hong’er. Where is his faithful Hagrid, ready and willing to choke Divine Beasts with his bare hands in order to fulfill his body as a bodyguard ? Silly question – still in the Upper Realm, besides a-Niang.

At least that’s Shen Yuan who’s endangered. The idea of Chang’e in his predicament is too awful to be condoned.