Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His dreams used to be so simple, he’d go to sleep and wake up in his dreamscape, then train his mind and try to fix everything he was, fix it to be stronger, to be better, to be faster. The abyss wasn’t a safe place to be in general, even less so to be sleeping in. He was safe though, if something should try to interrupt his sleep his mind would lash out at them and they’d join him in the scape where he could destroy them further. It would be good practice.

In theory that’s what would happen at least. Dreams were nice, the ones where Meng Mo wasn’t being pushy and bossy as usual. Those usually involved revenge fantasies, or even the occasional memory or two. Lately they’d been different though, so different from what he’d known he took note of it the first time it happened and it spiraled from there.

The dream had started out normal, he’d finished with the demons training and was told to rest for a while. At first he wasn’t planning on listening to the demon when he’d said that, but he’d hardly had the chance to rest for months now, and he was tired. So, he let his mind drift endlessly into nothing at all and when he blinked his eyes it was to the bamboo forrest he knew so well.

Bitterness had soaked his gut, frown lighting his face as he walked around the bamboo forrest and thought about destroying it with every step he took. He couldn’t help it, how was he supposed to not want it to be razed to the ground. The fact his mind thought this was the only way for him to rest peacefully spoke in numbers about his mental state, and he nearly conjured up a depiction of himself to beat raw.

He kept himself from doing so, only because he saw a pathway he’d never taken before. His footfall had paused soon as he’d noticed it. That hadn’t been there, he knew it had never been there, he’d walked the pathway enough to know that. Without thinking, he turned and walked down it, his footsteps making no noise as he stepped inside.

The shift of stepping into the pathway was immediate, his dirt and bloodstained clothes falling away to elegant ones resembling the ones he used to wear on…the ones he used to wear. These ones were black though, black with red and silver lining he stopped for a moment to marvel at. They were nice but nothing nice ever meant anything good. He could stay here, see what happened if he didn’t move further into the path it clearly wanted him to take, but his curiosity had never been the best and he found himself moving forwards without much thought.

As he walked he could hear a sound on the nonexistent wind, a voice singing unfamiliar words in a language he didn’t know. It grew louder as he continued walking, his speed increasing every time he thought he was getting closer. It didn’t take too long to come across what he was supposed to find, a clearing with flowers covering the earth and a small stream off to the side that crinkled and flowed without pause.

He didn’t focus on that though, it wasn’t important. What he chose to focus on instead was the figure in the center of the field. They were shorter than him, something he could see even at a distance, with even shorter all white hair. How they managed to do that he didn’t know, what he did know was the voice floating over to him was coming from them.

Their back was to him, but he could already tell he didn’t know their face. Who was this then? Could this person…could they be a god? No, that was ridiculous. Gods were only tales his mom used to tell him to make him feel better.

He took a step into the clearing and, as if they heard the silent footfall, they paused their song and turned to face him. They were beautiful, the kind of ethereal beauty he thought could only ever apply to one man. It was the kind of beauty he could only find himself calling godlike.

Their dark eyes found him easily, settling on him in the same way his settled in their figure, on their glowing blue and gold robes that swirled about them as they moved. Then, in that alluring and amazing voice he’d only heard in song, “Binghe?”

They knew his name. Whoever they were, whatever they were, they knew his name. He was special enough they looked to him and knew his name. Perhaps he should’ve been more terrified for what that meant, for why they would know him by looking at him for a second.

They hadn’t recognized him by the mark on his forehead, nor had they shrank away from his presence. He should be worried, terrified, maybe even angry for them interrupting his possible dreams. Instead he couldn’t help but smile and arrogantly hold his hand out to them as though they were on the ground and needed help up. Why would he do that? If they were a god, and that was a big if, why would they take the hands of a filthy disgusting demon like him? Binghe wasn’t special, they could probably smell it on him.

They had moved without his noticing though, their hand slipping into his easily and staying there. Their intertwined hands floated in the air between them as they both stared down at them. Then, at the same time, they both looked up into each other eyes and–

His eyes popped back open, Meng Mo’s voice echoing in his head. He snapped at him to shut it, sitting up. How dare he interrupt his dream, how dare he stop Binghe from meeting them. He feared it would be the last time he met them, meeting and separating after only a few moments. Apparently it wasn’t a few moments though as he was later informed it had been hours. If nothing else, that fact alone cemented the idea in Binghe’s head they were a god. A god he’d only been able to spend a few seconds in the presence of. He’d be lucky though, even if they weren’t a god, Binghe could still feel in his bones they were special enough he would call them one.

What if that was the only time? What if Binghe couldn’t see them again? He hadn’t had time to memorize their appearance, to fully take in their voice as they called out his own name like they were the best of friends. Would they get to call Binghe’s name again? If that was the only time he ever got to meet them then he would spend the rest of his life regretting not saying anything.

It wasn’t though, it wasn’t the next night, or even that week, but on a night he hadn’t been expecting it, he went to sleep and opened his eyes to that pathways entrance again. He hadn’t even meant to fall asleep, he’d been knocked in the head by another demon he then killed and now was wondering if this was a hallucination. Binghe would have never been this creative on his own though, not like this.

His heart thudded in his chest as he looked at the walkway. Last time he acted the way he did because he didn’t know what he was walking in on. Should he still go in? Was it safe? What if this was all a plan to destroy him? Would he untimely care if it was though?

If shizun didn’t want him, what good was there to being alive? What good was there to living. If this was a trap to kill him, at least it would be quick, of that he was sure.

He stepped through, his clothes once more fading to the clean elegant form of the red and black. They were nice against his skin, soft in a way that made him think he’d actually had a bath and was wearing them for real.

He couldn’t focus on them for long, no matter how nice they were his mind inevitably traveled to other things, such as, what if they were at the end of the pathway again? What if they weren’t? Would they still know him if they were? Would they still hold his hand if he offered it? It had been a few days, what if they no longer wanted to see him?

His feet carried him through the entire pathway, once more not stopping to look around the place and see the surrounding area. Why would he care about some birds and trees when they could be there. He didn’t hear any voices calling out from the distance, no sound of their singing reaching his ears.

It was fine though, they might just not feel like speaking right now, he’d be okay just seeing them. His feet carried him into the field and he found it hadn’t changed the slightest bit, flowers circling him at every turn and popping right back up after he’d stepped on them. The stream still crackled, water rushing through it and filling the air with noise. It wasn’t the only thing he could hear, the breeze that swept through the area chilly if one wasn’t wearing the layers he was, or if they couldn’t regulate their temperature. It whizzed past his ears, whipping his hair around and blocking his view.

He didn’t care about that either, what mattered was the one who should have been here and wasn’t. The field was empty, only filled with him and his presence, nothing to greet him beyond the wind coming for him. A frown flickered to life on his face as he spun around and looked again.

Nothing had changed though, he was the only one here.

Any sense of joy he’d had dissipated into nothing as he stared in the direction he’d come from. He could leave, there wasn’t much keeping him here and if he couldn’t see the god that dwelled over this land, why would he want to stay?

Something told him to, a deep feeling that had him sitting down in the middle of the field and idly picking at the flowers beneath him. No matter how many he pulled up, more would pop up in their place, and he began to amass a pile of them on his lap. Staring down at them, his hands moved on their own and connected them one by one until he’d created a crown of them that rested in his hands limply. Their bright pinks and yellows mixed together in the pattern, none of them reflecting how he felt.

He’d tried to make one of these for shizun once, years ago after he’d moved into the bamboo hut. It was much sadder than this one, by the time he worked up the nerve to actually give it, the thing had started to wilt. He’d still smiled when he got it though, taking it from his hands and slipping it onto Binghe’s own head like that’s what he meant for it. He didn’t even have the nerve to tell him what he actually wanted him to do.

The memory made him want to smile, it made him want to scream and cry, it made him angry and happy all at the same time. His hands had nearly curled around the wreath and gone to tear it in half when a pair of feet entered his sight. His head raised of it’s own accord and he stared up at the god above him, mouth wide open.

They stared back down at Binghe with their hands held half out to him, as though they’d meant to touch Binghe and thought better of it. Did they think he was disgusting? Was that why they didn’t want to touch him? He didn’t blame them, he would think as much too if he were them.

They crouched down to his level as he continued to watch them, eyes searching over his face almost…worriedly? No, that didn’t make sense, why would they be worried over Binghe? It’s not like he would die if he took his eyes off him or anything, and he didn’t look as much like a corpse as he did in the real world, he’d checked.

As he watched the other without saying a word, their eyes flickered down to the crown in his hands and he followed where they landed. Did they not like it? Were they mad about him picking their flowers? He couldn’t put them back now, he’d already picked them, but he could give it back to the other.

His hands moved before his thoughts had fully caught up to the action to lift it up high enough to drop lightly onto the others head. It settled onto to others hair crookedly, their face mirroring the surprise he felt in himself at his own actions. It did not get better from there as he continued to make matters worse and reached out to righten it on the others head.

Their hair was so soft and it didn’t feel different than his own even though it was different in color. If anything, it was softer. Soon as he realized he was less fixing the crown and more touching the others hair, he ripped his hands back and folded them in his lap, staring down at them as his face burned.

Why would he do that? Why would he do that! The god would be so angry at him touching them without their permission, he was about to die again! Not just that, he did what he wanted to for shizun, to someone else. How could he, how could he!

A small sound came from the other and Binghe lifted his head to glance at them, only wanting to know how angry they were. There was no anger to be found though as the god reached up idly to secure the crown against their head further and smiled at it. After they had apparently decided it was good enough, they lowered their hands to Binghe’s and cupped them between theirs, smiling towards him.

They said something, he was sure they did, but he couldn’t hear it over the blood rushing through his ears at seeing the other smile. It was so small, the barest upturn of their lips really, but his eyes crinkled so familiarly with the movement, the hands holding his own feeling much like the ones he’d always longed for. His eyes filled with tears without him wanting them to.

Why was he sad at this, he should be angry, it only made sense. Shizun had thrown him into this pit of hell, he’d subjected Binghe to this, he’d–he’d…

The tears still fell, wet and hot against his face and the others face fell as they watched it. He shouldn’t be crying, not in front of such a powerful being. It was silly, he’d never prayed to the gods before, everything that happened he never thought it would actually reach them nor would they care if they heard what he had to say. They were–they were supposed to be fake.

This one though, this one whom he could only call his god, they pulled their hands back from Binghe and curled their sleeves around their hands, gently wiping away the tears from his face as they frowned lightly. The action didn’t help with whatever was happening to him, only making him cry harder.

This was ridiculous, he should be able to control himself by now, he was stronger than this. He was a demon, demons shouldn’t…they weren’t supposed to cry, why didn’t that apply to him? The sleeve was soaked through now and he opened his mouth, if only to apologize, only for the other to grab at his shoulder and tug him into their arms.

Binghe froze at the movement, unable to compute the nearly foreign feeling of arms wrapping around him, of the warm body against his. He would’ve thought there wouldn’t be any warmth to the others body, they were supposed to be a being of power and elegance, cool and untouchable. They felt so, human holding Binghe.

The fact alone they were touching Binghe to clean off his tears was too much, much less actually hugging him. He hadn’t had any physical safe contact since…since getting down into the abyss. His body didn’t know what to do with it anymore, but the other simply kept holding him, arms firm against his back until eventually Binghe relaxed into the hold and his tears began again.

He didn’t bring his arms up to hug the other back, that seemed too much, too familiar. Beyond that, just because they felt it okay to touch him didn’t mean they wanted to have him touch them. He’d soaked the others shoulder all the way through by the time he managed to relax enough to lay limply in the others arms, his face pressed against the others neck.

This was too much, he was too close, he should move. He needed to move. He didn’t move an inch, nothing fully making him think it would be worth it to move. If the other wasn’t going to push him away then…then he was going to stay here for as long as he could.

The longer he stayed there though, the more time he spent in the arms of this kind god, the more guilt grew in his chest. He was betraying shizun, he knew it shouldn’t matter seeing as the other did it first, but he, he was still doing it. He should be staying far away from anyone, he was a demon, he was unlucky, tainted even. This god was good, he hadn’t spoken to him yet but he still knew they were. They had to be, to be willing to be so close to something like him.

The moment he started to wake up he could feel it, his form and feeling starting to fade away. Still, they didn’t move from their position and he was left to slowly wake to the safe place he’d decided to rest in for the night. It was a dark boring cave, no light, no monsters, nothing but him. Meng Mo didn’t even try to bother him anymore, only pitching in when he thought Binghe would listen to him. He usually didn’t, the old demon was little more than a nuisance he hadn’t bothered to get rid of yet, but still. He woke up, got up, and continued fighting, the rage he hadn’t had in his sleep returning full force in his attacks while he was awake.

He thought that would be the last time he ever saw them, thought his pathetic state would have inevitably managed to chase the other way. So he got up, he fixed his clothes best he could, and he started back out into the world.

Three days later and his hand was closing over the hilt of the demon heart sword xin mo as it screamed at him. He finally managed to free himself from the abyss, one swoop of the sword strong enough to create a rift long enough for him to fall through and crumple to the ground. It shut behind him with an obscene popping noise, the noise of nothing but trees around him filing his senses in the abyss’s constantly noisy place.

He was free? He was free. He was free!

Fighting to stand up, he could still feel every effect of the past few months, every single unhealed injury, and every night he’d gone without rest. Even around that, he still managed to stand up to see a plain old forrest around him. Birds chirping, leaf’s rustling, animals moving.

Letting out a small huff of laugh, he sank back down to his knees as he looked at the ground beneath him, wondering if it would be going to far to kiss it. He didn’t, in the end, instead fully collapsing from there and shutting his eyes. He was safe again. Nothing in the human realm would hurt him, and he was ninety percent certain he could take anything in the demon realm.

Sooner or later he’d have to get up and keep going, figure out what to do next, account to it. For now though, he let his consciousness drag him into sleep. Blinking his eyes open again, he wondered if he’d slept without dreams if he was waking to the forrest floor again before lifting his head and gazing at the calm of the bamboo forrest.

Oh, he was back here, in his gods forrest. He didn’t wake up right in front of the pathway this time, instead it was a little ways ahead of him and he nearly ran towards it, happy to be free of his disgust and rot even for a little while. His foot crossed over into the pathway and he was awarded the sanctity of the walkway, his robes clean and new, swirling around his legs and arms as he moved.

Something was new though, this time the sword hung at his side, vibrating lightly with it’s loud voice screaming at him for more violence. He hadn’t had it for long but he already knew exactly what he thought of it. He didn’t like the sword if he were honest, it was loud, and rude, and believed itself to be the master of Binghe instead of the other way around. It hadn’t said it yet, but he’d been around people like it often enough he could hear the hidden words and wants.

He’d already made peace with carrying it for the most part though, the fact he had to deal with it’s annoying voice only serving to make it harder on him to fully accept it. If he could use it for his revenge against the sect though, it was a price he would pay.

He didn’t like the fact it had come with him into the clearing, but he thought it would be fine for now. He figured it wouldn’t cause any issues for anyone but him, until he stepped into the clearing. Again he was alone and he chose to wait again, sure the other would show up again as they did before.

He didn’t have to wait long, this time hearing when the other stepped into the space. Glancing over he found the other by the stream. They caught Binghe’s eye soon as he looked over and smiled again, walking closer until their eyes settled on the sword by Binghe’s side. They stopped a safe distance away and stared at it, their head tilting as it hummed at his side.

The sword seemed to have the same reaction to the god, if not just a reaction in general, vibrating harder against his side and voice growing louder. He could hear it’s bloodlust, it’s want for the beings blood against it’s blade. Binge nearly broke it in half then and there.

How dare it insult his god, how dare it think itself good enough to be in their presence. This was a dreamscape, no matter if it was the gods or not, it boiled down to that in every way, which meant he should hopefully be able to at least control whether the sword was there or not. One moment it was, the next the offending object was gone and he was sighing lightly at it’s departure. When he looked back up, the other was blinking at the place the sword had been, frown previously gracing their face disappearing into pleasant surprise.

They didn’t seem like they’d planned to come closer to Binghe so he stepped closer himself, most likely pushing a boundary the other didn’t want him too. He couldn’t stop himself from doing it though, he wanted to be closer to the other, wanted to be close to this ethereal being. They didn’t shy away from him coming closer, eyes flickering back up to his face with brows furrowing, an almost exasperated look on his face.

“Binghe,” they started, voice as beautiful as when he’d first heard it. He’d said it so quietly, a tone no one but them would be able to hear even if there was noise around to block it.

“Don’t ruin yourself for this,” they continued lowly, frown starting to replace his smile as he reached out soon as Binghe had grown close. Hands cupped at his face, pulling him downwards gently until he was at eye level with the other.

His eyes searched over Binghe’s face, searching for what he didn’t know, all he knew was the others warm palms against the sides of his face, how comforting they were, how little he wanted to move away from him. If nothing else in this cruel and dark world, he was certain this god was good, nothing they could ever do would manage to convince him otherwise.

He’d thought that before though, he’d thought it and was shoved off a cliff. If they did it too, if they decided Binghe was evil, then he…he must truly be evil. Nothing else could make sense.

He was evil, he already knew that. If he weren’t, shizun wouldn’t have thrown him down there.

They hadn’t cast him into an abyss though, they had only cupped his face and held him while he cried. He had to be better, if not for shizun then–then for them. Should he be replacing shizun so soon? Was it replacing if shizun made it so clear he wanted nothing to do with Binghe? They wanted something to do with Binghe, and Binghe wanted to know more about them.

He still didn’t know their name, or what they were called either. They hadn’t offered it yet, and he wouldn’t pry. In his mind he’d already considered them perfect, even if they should only offer a name meant for destruction.

Without his meaning to, his lips had tilted up as he smiled at the other who’s frown disappeared at the sight. Soon, it was mirrored back at him and they stayed there, smiling at one another for no reason, the others hands still cupping his face. Slowly, obvious in his movements in case the other wanted to take his hands back, he reached up to cup the others hands in his own, trapping the others hands against his face. The other let out a snort at that, halfway rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“Shameless,” they tutted. He didn’t take his hands back though, leaving them on Binghe’s face until his form started to waver.

He’d never left before Binghe before, but they hadn’t exactly met often before then. It felt like they’d known each other forever though, he’d never considered this to be one of the first time they’d ever met, it never seemed like that. It was almost like they’d known each other for years, like they’d been through everything together.

They hadn’t though, and when they flickered out of the dreamscape, they left Binghe standing alone in the field with his hands by his face holding nothing. They got so little time, so few minutes to be near to each other. He wasn’t complaining, far from it. He doubted many people ever got to spend so much time in a gods presence. He couldn’t help but want more though.

The voice, the touch, the sheer comfort the other provided, he wanted that all the time. It was like the comfort he used to know so well, the one he doubted he would ever experience again. Was he–was he trying to replace shizun? He thought he wasn’t but. No, no that wasn’t it, he could never replace shizun. Shizun was, well, shizun. Nothing and no one could replace that, not even a god or being or whatever they were.

He was trying to slot them into his place though, trying to fix the empty hole in his gut that shizun left him with. He couldn’t do that, shizun didn’t deserve to have left that hole, they didn’t deserve to be put in the same category as him. He…he couldn’t be doing this, he couldn’t do this at all.

Dropping his hands, he turned on his heels and started to walk back down the pathway that would lead him out and back into the forest where he would once more look like hisself. Soon as he passed through, the gore and muck that had been caked onto his skin returned, it’s smell following soon after. He lifted his arm and smelled at the fabric, wrinkling his nose a second later.

The first thing he needed to do when waking was find a river, then he could find sanctity. He knew where to go to screw over Qing Jing peak, it wouldn’t even be hard to convince them. Perhaps in the past when he was helpless, he would’ve been turned away. Now, he was powerful, and while he didn’t like the sword, he would admit it certainly helped him out of a hard place more than once.

He continued marching through the bamboo forrest, intent on getting to somewhere else, somewhere he wouldn’t have to focus on pretending the entire place didn’t stink of shizun’s touch, pretending he wasn’t thinking about the god, pretending about everything. It’s all he ever did anymore, pretend. Pretend he was fine, pretend he could do more than he could, pretend it didn’t hurt all the time to breath and move and exist, pretend pretend pretend.

Another step and he suddenly froze, eyes trained on the pathway to his left. So, it seemed to be a loop. It meant for Binghe to go through the pathway then, he was always meant to find them. There was never a chance of finding shizun, only ever his god. The thought brought a smile to his face, even as he started to wake up, face pressed to an actual forrest floor this time.

Meng Mo had started to talk to him again recently, apparently thinking he had any right to. If Binghe wasn’t so aware of how much he’d helped him, he would’ve booted him years ago. As it was, the demon was chatting away at nothing as Binghe finally found what he’d been searching for, a blessed river he launched himself into soon as he spotted it, only stopping long enough to throw xin mo onto the ground before dunking himself.

It was freezing, goosebumps rising on his skin soon as he touched the water and not going away after he’d gotten in. The water washed away at his hair and his robes, his skin being scrubbed clean with his hands to the best of his capabilities then rubbed red when he couldn’t do more. The water that flowed from him was stained with a number of things, most of which he couldn’t name anymore. Instead, he watched until it ran clear before sighing and finally climbing out of it.

Standing soaked and dripping, he picked xin mo back up and looked off to where he could see a building in the far distance. He knew the hatred between the two sects was strong, him showing up with the plight he’d prepared ahead of time would gain him a place to stay, he was sure of it. Still, the journey to Huan Hua palace was going to be long even if he wasn’t soaking wet.

Next time he found himself in the bamboo forrest, he didn’t go to the pathway immediately. He no longer looked like death on the outside, his robes newly tailored and made for him by the palace master. A creep of a man, he was at least good for getting that done.

The only reason he’d kept from walking into the pathway was the fear he would show up differently now inside the field. What if they took one look at him and realized he was a traitor and no good for anything? His hair bounced against his shoulders as he stomped around the loop, finally starting to feel like he was taking care of it again, no longer plastered to him like the robes had been. He stabbed xin mo into the ground along the way, continuing without it.

Was he even enough to be appearing in front of them? Surely they wouldn’t think highly of him now, he was going against everything he’d ever stood for, going to the enemy, going to shizun’s enemies and staying there, all to spite him. The joyous and kind god who held Binghe so sweetly, he wouldn’t think highly of Binghe anymore, not if he saw the robes he had now.

When he saw the pathway come up again, he stopped. Ahead of him was xin mo, still stabbed into the ground where he left it. Next to him was the pathway towards the field, it’s calm air waiting for him to walk towards it as though it knew Binghe would pick it. He shouldn’t, it was a terrible idea and it would only…it could only end as it once did. Still, he wasn’t smart enough to run the first time, he certainly wasn’t smart enough to walk away now.

He stepped through the pathway and let the shift settle around him as the robes he’d grown used to fell over his shoulders, decorative silver embroidery covering the sleeves and it’s weight less than nothing. His shoulders fell from around his ears at the realization he still looked the same, reaching up to tug on a curl, pulling it straight and letting it bounce back over and over again.

His feet carried him through the rest of the pathway until he could step into the clearing. They were already there, sitting amongst the flowers in the never ending sunlight where they should always be, dozens of different colored flowers atop their lap. Binghe moved closer hoping to see what they were doing, careful not to get too close incase he insulted them with his proximity. They didn’t look up as he grew closer, not until he had stepped within clear view and then the others head shot open.

They’d been biting at their tongue, the tip of it stuck out in concentration. His eyebrows rose up his face as he looked up until his eyes met Binghe. Then, he smiled, showing his teeth and straightening his back.

“Binghe, sit sit,” he said, waving his hands to him. He still didn’t understand how the other knew his name, simply assumed it came with their power. He sat with the other waving at him the entire time, happily reaching down to grab a handful of the flowers and hold them out to him. Were these…gifts? Threats maybe? No, how would flowers such as these be threats. He’d seen threatening flowers, these were no threatening flowers.

He reached out slowly to grab them only for the other to shake his head, pulling his hands back the slightest bit. Binghe nearly hurt himself ripping his hand back as fast as he did, clenching it by his knees after he’d done so. They watched him move with wide eyes before blinking owlishly at him.

“I meant for you to pick one,” they said in almost a rush, the words coming out so much less smooth than the other times they’d spoken. Binghe stared blankly at them in return. He hadn’t realized that’s what he meant at all, the idea hadn’t even crossed his mind. He didn’t move even after realizing it, staring at the other as though he could magically read his mind.

They furrowed their brows, lips starting to tilt down as they looked to their hands where the flowers sat. Crap, he’d made them sad, he hadn’t meant to make them sad, he just didn’t want to mess anything up.

“What’s your…favorite color.” Their voice startled him enough he looked back up into the others eyes. His favorite color? Why would they–oh. They had nearly every color of flower in their hand, which meant Binghe was–he was supposed to pick his favorite. Without saying a word, he carefully lifted his hand and reached into the pile, spotting one he quite liked the color to.

It was a small blue flower with little green petals surrounding it. He twirled it around between his finger tips before hesitantly holding it out to the other. He dropped the other flowers immediately, grabbing the one Binghe held out to him and nodding, ducking their head a moment later to try and do…something.

He was watching them work silently, eyes trained on the movement of their hands, yet he still wasn’t entirely sure what they were doing, not until their small cry of victory as they lifted their head and their hands, hoisting the flowered object up and dropping it onto Binghe’s own head.

He blinked when the weight settled over him, hand absently reaching up to fix it and meeting the others hands that hadn’t quite left it yet. He smiled down at Binghe when he did so, as though the little crown on his head was his own crowning achievement. He found himself mirroring the look, grinning brightly as he lowered his hand and let the other fix it atop his head. When they finally leaned back, he still hadn’t stopped smiling and neither did they.

“Thank you,” he murmured quietly, only realizing after he’d said them these were the first words he’d said to the other. Judging by the surprise on their face, they were expecting him to speak as much as he was, which meant very little. Still, the smile returned soon after and they nodded.

“Of course. My Binghe deserves only the best.” My Binghe. The words played over in his head, they’d called him theirs, they’d laid claim to him.

Did that mean they were looking out for him? Did that mean they’d always looked out for him? No, no god so kind could have watched him be thrown into the abyss and stood by idly. Though, he didn’t seem surprised at Binghe’s living through it? Maybe they knew he would, maybe they thought it was better for him to get the experience.

That was…well, he wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that made it okay, the time he spent there still haunted every move he made, every slow scanning of the area, every duck away at sudden movements. It stained him, more than the mark on his forehead ever did, that place ruined him fully and completely.

Anger rose in him at the idea of them thinking it was okay to leave him there–and he could be angry. He didn’t owe them his calmness, he didn’t owe them anything! How could they leave him like that and think it was okay? Binghe didn’t–he didn’t deserve that! He was sure of that at least.

Without noticing his internal strife, the other sank back fully and picked up another set of flowers, beginning to weave again until he’d created a smaller chain than before. Without his noticing, the other had grabbed his wrist and picked it up to fasten the little bracelet around him. This one wasn’t the same blue flower he’d picked anymore, instead it was made of a circle of puffy bright white flowers and smaller red ones that rose above his wrist far enough he feared poking his eyes out if he tried to scratch his face. Still, it was fastened before he could stop it and he could do nothing but watch as the others hands held at his own and tilted his wrist back and forth, admiring their own work.

“Color?” He spit out without meaning to, drawing the others attention up to him long enough to quirk an eyebrow and shoot him a small frown.

“My favorite color.” They explained and went back to their handiwork. They liked, of all the colors, red and white? It was such a normal response it snapped Binghe out of his anger. How could he be mad though? He was tired of being mad all the time, he didn’t want to be mad at them too. They were a god, how could Binghe think they fully understood how a mortal would react to such things? They did act weird when they saw Binghe while he was in the abyss, who knows, maybe they did care.

Binghe looked up into their face, watching the smile spread across their face, how their eyes crinkled, so much like shizun yet so…no. Nope, no he wasn’t going there. No way was he about to compare the one good thing to happen to him since the abyss to one of the–he’d love to call it bad things but. It wasn’t as simple as that.

Yeah, when they met he didn’t like the man but that was for a good reason. Then, he changed and Binghe couldn’t think of a reason anymore to dislike him, instead he, well. It wasn’t exactly contempt he felt for him. Perhaps it had been naïve of him, expecting to live out the rest of his days by his side. How could he have known?

Meng Mo had told him about the weird heritage long before his shizun knew, he knew that, he understood that. He reacted so differently than how he thought towards him though, all that talk about how demons could be good like humans and he threw Binghe out just like that.

He could’ve brought it up better he supposed, tried to tell him about it before then. He’d been so confident he could do well there though, so confident he could do well in the conference and then try and tell him after all that. Clearly that had been the wrong idea. Ducking his head, he watched the other finish inspecting his creation with a nod.

“White looks nice on Binghe,” they said, whether they meant him to hear it or not he couldn’t tell. All he could do was nod and wait as he felt the telltale signs of waking up. They must’ve noticed too as they looked up at him in surprise before the look morphed into a sad smile. Despite himself, he found his mouth opening.

“Goodnight,” he said stupidly. Goodnight? Who says that to a god? They probably aren’t even affected by such things, why would he say that?

“Goodnight Binghe.” Honestly his own genius proved unparalleled, why would he say–what? If he’d managed to hear them before blinking into awareness, they probably would’ve caught the look of shock on his face. Meng Mo certainly did, seeing it fit to comment on it and everything. Binghe helpfully told him where to stick it as he sat up, staring down at his wrist and wishing there was something more there than his sleeve.

He’d said goodnight, he’d talked to them, he’d managed to do that. He managed to do that! A dumb grin grew on his face as he raised his head, looking at the wall in front of him that had nothing but paint on it. He’d talked to them! They listened to him! Him! Binghe! They even said goodnight back to him!

“Oi, what making you so happy this morning?” The demon in his head chipped in, Binghe could feel him scratching at his chin as he asked. He didn’t answer though, instead leaning over and rolling free from his bed. Nothing from then on could ruin his mood, not the creep of a palace master making free comments again on Binghe and his daughters nonexistent relationship, not the little palace mistress who’s name he has long since forgotten making sly comments to him on the same matter, not even the other disciples making crude comments. That night he may not have dreamed of them, but he did dream of them eventually, and when he did, he abandoned xin mo and moved into the pathway at once.

Time was a fickle thing, he always knew that. It passed weirdly in the abyss, so much it distorted his view of how it would normally flow and made getting used to reality again a bit harsh to try and do, even more so when he started taking trips into the demon realm to start building relations with the kind shizun had so willingly thrown him to.

It messed with his mind, and the nights he spent in the flower fields meant a night spent in the company of the only other person on this planet he had ever found himself enjoying the company of. He found himself counting the days between the meetings as a way of keeping track of days, every night going to sleep hoping to see his god again. If he didn’t, he could only conjure a dreamscape to pretend he did, when he found himself there though…

Everyone knew when he’d had a nice night by how chipper he was the next morning. Last time, he’d been stupid, recently having gone down to the demon realm for a look and got into a fight. He won, of course, but he’d gotten a cut along his cheek. It was shallow and would heal quickly, he needed to practice healing injuries anyways. It wouldn’t even leave a mark when he finished healing it, but when they saw it, they traced it with their hands, frowning and telling him to be more careful. They told him he was a treasure and he…he shouldn’t get himself hurt for the sake of it. Right after saying that Binghe made the comment about their caring and got hit upside the head lightly as the other berated him for being shameless.

Demons hurt themselves all the time though, he’d seen it often enough in how they trained and fought against one another. They were a pathetic lot, untrained in their ways and too blunt in their attacks. If he was going to keep himself from being hurt, he had to fix that. How could he manage to do that though, he wasn’t their leader, he couldn’t tell them what to…hang on.

He was powerful, more so than he’d seen of any of them, they were nothing compared to the beasts of the abyss, and he’d beaten all them, he could realistically do it. Wouldn’t that be straying further from shizun though? To become the demon lord, it both wouldn’t be easy and it would be spreading himself even thinner and tearing himself away from shizun’s teachings.

Then again, if he was in charge, he could keep them from being so harsh on mortals, he could keep them from causing shizun trouble. He’d already half stuck his foot into the title, beating Mobei-Jun into submission soon as he got out of the abyss, and Sha Hualing whom he had only met once before then had already submitted herself to Binghe’s side, claiming he would be interesting to spar. If shizun didn’t have to deal with the demons so much, he could stay on Qing Jing peak and live peacefully. Yes, all he had to do was set it into motion and–

“Ah Lord Luo may this one speak with you?” Halfway to taking xin mo and shoving it through the others face, Binghe stopped in his tracks and turned to see the palace master coming towards him. He really should’ve remembered this guys name by now, he’d heard it at one point, and again when shizun complained about him. It was long gone though, replaced by other names and faces he found himself more interested in.

He was speeding towards Binghe with his hand raised like a pig, big grin on his face that showed off many of the man’s disgusting teeth. How he managed to keep himself from killing this man he didn’t know. Still, he stopped in front of Binghe without dying, so there was that, setting his heavy meaty hand down on his shoulder like it belonged anywhere near him.

“What.”

“I hope you’ve been well, this master hasn’t seen much of lord Luo about these days.“

“Been busy.”

“Ah, yes, alright then. I’ve been meaning to approach you on this but a group of my disciples are set to go out to fix the problem going on in jinlin city and I was simply wondering if you would like to lead them?” Him? Why would he be the one to lead them? No one said anything about him having to lead idiot humans in trying to figure out a problem he was ninety percent sure would be solved in five minutes if he were there.

Maybe this would be good though, another step in fixing things for shizun. Shoving the brightest most winning smile he had onto his face, he agreed and found himself shipped off to jinlin city, the city of dead and sowers. Honestly, he regretted his decision to go soon as he stepped foot in the city and figured it was sowers. He told his companions as much and even went far enough to grab one and hold it out to them by it’s neck as it wheezed for mercy.

It was gruesome, a sight most of them would be unused to that he planned to use to scare them into taking this seriously. The entire way there had been filled with nothing but ‘lord Luo will figure it out,’ and ‘Thankfully lord Luo is here,’ and ‘We’ll have nothing to fear if he’s here.’ Honestly he’d had no idea he was held in such high regarded until then. He’d only gone out a few times before then, usually on solo trips and often for his own sake than Huan Hua’s, but apparently they’d heard about his tendency to fight demons and took it the wrong way.

It was exhausting, all the happy compliments from people who didn’t even know him, who thought they did. What was with people doing that? He was no better than them, if anything he was lower than them, the mark on his head should have shown them that. Apparently it meant nothing to them to see it though, the sight little more than an accessory or identifying feature.

The only one there that seemed to have an issue with him was one of the upper disciples, a guy named Gongyi Xiao. Binghe remembered him from before the abyss, he had been doing very well in the competition. It garnered some respect at the time, and his refusal to fumble over Binghe only made it grow. He’d normally be annoyed at it, but with the constant chatter of his ‘greatness,’ it was a welcome change.

They’d already met with the elders of the city, well, the others did, he’d stayed behind to hunt for more sowers to amass and returned later in the night to a very quiet room full of normally chatty people. Raising an eyebrow, he dropped the knocked out body’s of the sowers onto the ground by his feet before moving further into the room.

No one had noticed his entrance yet, instead watching someone he couldn’t see. That’s when he heard one of the girls that came speak up near the front.

“Lord Luo already said that!” She half yelled, her foot stamping against the ground as she did so.

“Yeah, we already knew,” another piped up, a guy who had suddenly thought he was Binghe’s best friend when he’d been stuck next to him on the way over. If he could go back and stab his ears out he would have, but the girl wasn’t much better. Honestly, the dramatics of girls towards him freaked him out, especially after the abyss.

Ning Yingying was never like that, not after they’d grown up. He considered her one of his good friends–well, used to at least. He didn’t know how she’d changed over the past few years. He missed her, wondered how she was doing, if she was well, but knowing she would stand on shizun’s side if given the chance. Maybe when he’d cleaned things up though, maybe when he fixed things he could–no. No he needed to focus.

Someone suddenly straightened up from where Binghe had assumed them to be bent over the spot he’d thrown the first sower, face suddenly coming into view as fast as his footsteps froze. Shizun was there, in the place they were staying, holding the same fan he always did and giving the boy who spoke an exasperated look, the same he always gave when he thought someone should think before speaking. It was familiar and foreign all the same. He was both fourteen all over again staring at this man whom invited Binghe into his carriage out of kindness and a twenty year old who survived the endless abyss, staring at the same man he’d known for so long who looked unchanged through time.

Someone must’ve noticed him standing there, who it was he didn’t know, but suddenly eyes were turning to him and he had to rearrange his face before he started giving anything away. A smirk should work, it would probably keep him from seeing the panic he could so clearly see in the others face. Good, it wasn’t just him who wasn’t expecting this little meeting then.

What was he supposed to do? What was there to do? Should…should he stab him? Xin mo was saying yes, but his shaky legs were saying ‘Move an inch and we’ll let you fall all over again.’ He listened to his legs, tilting his head up and looking down at the other.

“Binghe,” the other murmured, eyes raking over Binghe. It was weird, he didn’t look surprised to see him alive, he just seemed surprised to see him standing here of all places, eyes pausing on his sword the longest before continuing to look him over the same way his god did. The voice was the same, the same tone he always used, the same expression, everything the same yet so, so different.

“Did shizun miss this one?” He could feel the others glancing between him and shizun, their eyes watching, searching for a show. Well, too bad for them then that he didn’t plan to give them one. He’d already collected all the sowers in the city, he had no need to be anywhere and he had no need for them to be in the room with him.

“I’d like to have a moment with shizun,” he said, raising his voice so those around him were clear on what he was saying. He could tell they didn’t want to leave, they clearly wanted to see how it turned out, but they moved along soon as he gave them a look.

The room cleared before he could blink and he was left alone with the one man he’d thought about for three years now with no idea what to say. Why did he do this, it’s not like he had a plan. His stomach boiled at the sight of him, his perfect being clearly having suffered none from his absence other than being smaller. Was he smaller? No, he was just skinnier. Had he eaten? Not important. What should he do? Did he try to feed the other his blood? Was that even a good idea?

No, no, what if his god found out and gave him that sad disappointed look like when he got a cut on his face? How would he find out though–no. No he needed to focus on other things, like the more pressing matter.

His eyes searched the other over and saw the hand he’d been attempting to hide behind his back covered in marks he knew very well. Frowning, he moved closer and took hold of it without thinking. Shizun tried to pull his hand back and shrank away from the touch, but Binghe held firmly onto his hand.

If the other had his blood in his system he could fix this right away, but he–he was trying. He was trying not to give in to the impulses of xin mo. Especially if it would only help the man to do. There was medicine for this, he could take that instead. He carefully kept his head bent low while looking it over to speak.

“Shizun didn’t answer this one.”

“I saw no need to.” His lips twitched downwards at the words, halfway to reaching for his sword. But no, it would only be sweeter if he waited, it could only get better if he built the other up and crumpled him bit by bit. He let the others arm go, but didn’t move away from him.

“This one apologizes then for this meeting, I simply wished to know whether shizun has mentioned anything to his fellow peak lords.”

“Mentioned what?” Blinking, he went to speak before pausing. The other seemed genuinely confused by the question, as though he couldn’t fathom what Binghe was talking about. Seriously, could people not see the glowing red sigil on his forehead? He didn’t try to cover it or anything.

“My heritage,” he explained blandly, catching the moment the other realized what he was speaking of, as well as the tiny glance he sent in the direction of nothing. Shizun had always done that, long as he could remember, that whole tiny glance off to the side thing. He used to think it was cute, now it, it was totally weird. Yep.

“No,” he answered. “I didn’t mention it.” He didn’t? Why not? Would it be rude to ask why? No, that had to be fair, right? He would’ve asked too if the others eyes hadn’t shifted down to the floor where he’d left the sowers. Halfway to wincing, he shrugged lightly.

“They were in my way.”

“Your way?”

“No one likes them, and this one is not spared the sentiment, why would I want them wandering around where I currently reside?” Why did he say that, the other didn’t need to know that. It wasn’t any of his concern anyways. Still, shizun nodded and started to move around him to leave.

“Shizun,” he called lightly as the other neared the door, catching the other pausing his steps but not looking back. What should he say? Was there anything left to say? He couldn’t make the other converse with him like they used to, no amount of threatening would ever accomplish that. “Don’t say anything about it,” he commanded, no longer see why it mattered. Maybe he just wanted the satisfaction of telling the other what to do for once.

“…I wasn’t planning on it.” With that, he was gone, leaving Binghe alone. Hands still shaking, he took his anger out on the sowers, grabbing them and beating them even further before throwing them into the cage with their buddy.

He left quickly after that, intent on making it back to his room to sleep before the others decided it was time to came back in. He didn’t want to explain what happened, they didn’t need to know anyways.

He collapsed into his temporary bed and held his hand out in front of him. He’d touched shizun, after three years, and it was so different. He’d shrank away from Binghe, there’d been fear there. It was good…right? This is what he was supposed to want?

Xin mo screamed at him again, it’s energy all encompassing and loud. He could still ignore it though, it hadn’t gotten so bad he couldn’t ignore it yet. Besides, he was used to noise, noise was a corner stone to his life, the street he grew up on was always loud, most of his early years in the peak and even a few of the later ones were as well. The abyss was deafening, the lack of it here wasn’t a fun thing to come to, but he was getting used to it again because xin mo was loud.

He didn’t want loud right now though, he wanted to think and once more the idea of throwing the damned thing out crossed his mind. It had helped him out of a tight place, but was it really helping him out right now? Because as far as he could tell, the most it was doing was hindering his growth. The muscle of training and years of eating well had started wearing off with the effect the sword had on him, he could feel his own body and soul growing gaunt the longer he had it. It crowded his mind to the point he couldn’t even remember why he wanted so badly to speak with shizun, what had been so important. He didn’t know if fear is what he wanted from him, it didn’t feel right. If he apologized, that would be nice, but he didn’t see him regretting the decision anytime soon. Not after the way he’d acted. No, the great Shen Qingqiu never regretted anything. Including him.

He fell asleep without meaning to, awakening to the pathway leading to the flower field and finding himself walking around while waiting. He still had his god, his god was good to him and kind, he wouldn’t do that to Binghe. Probably at least.

He knew gods were never good or bad, his mamma had taught him that, but his god was good. He might be biased though. Even if he killed thousands, Binghe would still probably call him good.

He wanted to have some kind of comfort, anything really if it meant he could try and rest through the night. It wasn’t fair of him to use the other like this, he knew that, but he couldn’t help it. Shizun hated him, he thought he knew that, but tonight had truly solidified the fact in his mind. He walked in circles, still waiting. If shizun, the kindest man in this world, couldn’t love him, no one could. Even if they did, he didn’t want them.

He kept walking. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with shizun, it wasn’t fair. He didn’t choose what he was, if he had any say in it he wouldn’t be this. If he had a say he’d be stronger, he’d be prettier, he’d be better. He couldn’t choose though, why couldn’t he realize that? He didn’t want to be like the other demons, he wanted to fix things! The only one who wasn’t looking at him like that wasn’t the one he wanted to.

His god had never changed how he looked to Binghe, why would he? His god was better in every way, so why was Binghe still stuck on shizun? He didn’t want to be stuck on him, he hurt him. He didn’t deserve it, he hadn’t even hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.

He walked for hours, they never showed up and he woke up feeling more tired and pathetic than he had in a while. Xin mo was still screaming, he could hear it the whole night, always yelling at him from just beyond the barrier, screaming at him to take charge, take action, do something! Usually he could ignore it in the presence of his god, but his god wasn’t there tonight. He wanted it to shut up, to be quiet, to stop pestering him. He said nothing. He got up, he got ready, and he left.

Chapter Text

Shizun had nothing to do with the sowers. He knew that, they all knew that. Well, apparently not all of them. His sleeping for so long in an attempt to see his god had cost him, his stupid exhaustion clouding him even as he left and found they’d already set his prize aflame. Then, he learned the full extent of what had happened.

They took shizun and he wasn’t there. They took shizun and used Binghe as a reason to do so, along with some random claim of death. So what, he’d killed people, they all had, but apparently it really mattered when shizun did it. The palace master, that son of a bitch, soon as he found him he planned to rip him a new one, maybe even two or three. They’d already started transferring shizun when he’d gotten there, already halfway there when he left with the other disciples, already locked up when he got back. Soon as he found palace master his sword was halfway out. The other seemed incapable of sensing danger though and actually smiled when he spotted Binghe, waving his hand at him.

“Ah, lord Luo, I have good news for you. You see, this morning it was discovered Shen Qingqiu was–“

“How dare you–“ he hissed, fully pulling it out and holding it to the others throat “–use me as a reason to lock shizun up.” Palace masters smile fell then, replaced by an open and panicked look as he raised his hands and realized for possibly the first time Binghe was dangerous. Good. He should’ve guessed that in the first place.

“I–I meant no harm my lord–I simply meant that Shen Qingqiu could no longer harm anyone from the–the water prison and–“ halfway to actually following through with what xin mo longed to do, he pulled it back and stomped around him, continuing down the hallway towards where he knew the prison would be. Nothing would stop him in his tracks, he didn’t plan to be stopped by anything, entering in and finding not just shizun there but also palace mistress. He would’ve rolled his eyes if he hadn’t caught sight of the exact nature of the scene.

Before he could fully think the action through, he was rushing forwards and catching the barbed whip in his bare hands. It left a red mark around it, blood seeping from where it poked into his skin. He couldn’t feel it around the blinding rage though. Shizun looked beaten to hell and back, shivering behind him with whip marks and torn clothing.

His hand shook as he held the whip, nearly crushing it as he turned to look at her and said, pronouncing every word very clearly so there was no chance of misunderstanding, “What are you doing.” It was not a question, yet she still stuttered out an answer like it was. In his hands he crushed the whip, letting out just enough energy to turn it to near dust as he did so. He got quite the satisfaction from throwing the whips remains into the liquid around them. He chose not to ask where they got the water, the mystery wasn’t one he cared to know any more than the bare minimum on. Besides, there were more important things to do, such as keeping his hand from reaching out and throwing her in as well.

When she finally left, he turned to face shizun fully, watching the others eyes turn to him from where he rested too close to the edge. Binghe went to moved towards him and offer a hand before remembering how he’d acted last time high he came close and instead moved further back.

“Is shizun alright?” He asked lightly as the other moved further onto the platform and safely away from the edge, preserving the distance between them. He didn’t answer Binghe, but he didn’t expect him to. Another gust of wind whipped through the area, the water having not settled enough to not blow air around. He wasn’t effected by it, but he could see the other shiver from it.

“This one asked if shizun was al–“

“Binghe came in a rush. In one months time the juristic of the four sects will have been decided, won’t you be happy when they find me guilty?” His heart sank in his chest as the other spoke. Why would he bring that up? In no way was in pertinent to the question asked.

“Why is shizun so sure he will be found guilty?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you this?” Him?

“Me?” What does Binghe have to do with the man’s alleged past? Surely he didn’t think Binghe somehow managed to change the course of his younger life via sheer willpower? Or–oh, right. He forgot about the alleged part about him throwing Binghe off the cliff.

“I told them you didn’t cast me into the abyss,” he said as if it would clear anything up, receiving only a look from the other that meant he was referring to something else. What else could have possibly been his fault? He hadn’t done anything of recent times that would have him receive this kind of look, the most he’d done was beat out Liu Qingge at getting the sowers. Surely that couldn’t have been it. Everyone knew the man was obvious, but shizun had never acted like he knew before and he doubted the man would be jealous about that of all things. Maybe Binghe but not shizun.

“Is shizun referring to the sowers?” He guessed blindly, receiving a look when he said it that said he’d guess correctly. Anger sparked in his chest again as he worked not to stomp his foot into the ground like a child. “So everything the demons do is my fault?” It hurt to say, his stomach clenching at the words. He didn’t deny them though, looking at Binghe like there was irrefutable evidence he’d done it. To make it painfully clear, he did not.

“Let me ask you something in return.”

“Whatever shizun wishes to know this one will answer.” He’d said it without thinking, regretting it only a moment later as the others back straightened further.

“If not out of hatred, even if Binghe is not to blame for the sowers, if not you, why would you go to Huan Hua?” Why would he ask that? Of all things he expected to hear from the other, he hadn’t expected that.

“Would shizun have let me back if I didn’t.” He shouldn’t have answered, it was clear the other wasn’t having anything to do with him.

“Does shizun regret it,” he asked suddenly and stupidly, wanting to throw himself into the liquid a second later. Shizun blinked up at him, opening his mouth then closing it and glancing off to the side once more. What was he looking for? It wasn’t as though someone would come out of nowhere to tell him what to say. It was an easy question, yes or no, it wouldn’t be that hard, a nod or a shake of his head. He did nothing though, and they returned to silence until he scoffed.

“Suppose I should’ve known better than to have expected shizun to answer,” he sneered out, the resentment in his soul the only thing keeping him going right now. Still, no answer beyond the other shivering. The palace mistress must’ve hit the others clothes earlier before he’d gotten there, they were torn and a mess, nothing like the elegance and grace they always were in his mind. It made him smile to see, it made him want to cry at the sight.

Without thinking, he let out a loud sigh and removed his outer robe, it’s lack of presence leaving him barley any colder as stepped closer he threw it over the others head. Not his best plan, but not his worst.

Shizun didn’t seem to understand what to do with it, letting it slip off of him and lightly pushing it back towards him. Of course, how could he forget, he hated demons, that extended to anything tainted by it. He’d be pissed at it, if the others hands weren’t twitching towards it, his brows furrowed as he stared.

“What are you doing,” he said for the second time since going in there, a vastly different tone being used. Shizun looked up at him then back down to the robe and back up again before answering.

“It’s yours?” The urge to punch something rose in his chest and he nearly succumbed to it, already picturing the entire cave collapsing around him before coming to his senses. The man was stubborn, and prideful, but Binghe was pissed and more patient than he gave him credit for. Gritting his teeth together he stomped over and scooped up the robe again. It was nicely made by the finest seamstresses in Huan Hua, he could admit to that, but he also had little say in it’s making in the first place. The other didn’t flinch until he had circled it around him and curled it over the others shoulder.

“It is not Binghe’s, it’s a gift from the palace master. Throw it in the lake for all this disciple could care but shizun is shivering.” Soon as he was sure it would take a lot to knock it off, he backed away and bowed to the man, turning on his heel and nearly running out of the room.

On the way out he somehow remembered to click the mechanism for the water back on before fleeing all the way back to his room. He didn’t stop once to turn back and throw himself at him, beg to have the other take him back, beg for him to hold him in his arms until Binghe died. He should’ve stayed and tried to get him out, tried to help, offered something.

The mere idea of going back though, of having to look the other in the eye, it made him sicker than he already was. His sleep was restless, anytime he fell asleep he would dream of shizun again and again, memories replaying at speeds he wished they wouldn’t. He was in control of his dreamscapes, he should be able to regulate his emotions better.

He didn’t go to visit shizun again at all that week, he didn’t go to do much of anything that week, spending most of it trying to deal with everything that had happened on the platform. He didn’t even have his god to turn to, every time he actually stopped long enough for a nap, it wasn’t to open his eyes to the pathways as he hoped. Of all times for there to be a stretch of time between seeing them, this was…this was hard.

When the news of him leaving came to Binghe, he’d been on the middle of a debate over going to see him again or not. He’d nearly decided when a disciple rushed in to tell Binghe of what had happened. He’d bolted immediately, unthinking and grabbing xin mo along the way.

The sects were still considering him an enemy, it wouldn’t just be Binghe searching for him. Why was he bothering, they’d drag him back here anyways. And if they didn’t, then they didn’t and life still went on; but. It was shizun, and he’d never been the best and leaving things involving shizun alone, no matter how much smarter it would be sometimes to give up.

He went out to search. It would all be fine, he would find him and it would–he’d fix it–he’d fix everything. Everything would be fine, he just needed–he could fix it. It would be fine, it would all be–it. Would. All. Be. Fine.

He–

…shizun self destructs.

Binghe could do nothing as…that damned sword, it…it…

It cost him shizun. It cost shizun his life.

He took shizun’s body without thinking, grabbed it and ran without having thought it through and now it lay in front of him on the bed. They would come for it eventually, if not them then Liu Qingge would. That, he could deal with, easily too. What he’d done though, he couldn’t.

He’d killed shizun. He’d taken his life. Him and that damned sword. His eyes skidded off the others body and onto the sword resting by his side. Silently, he stood from his seat and grabbed it, leaving a moment later.

There was no one near to his room, anyone who saw him on the way in running at the sight of him, which made leaving ten times easier. Nothing else was easy though.

Hours later, after calling for Mobei-Jun, he no longer had the sword. He didn’t need the thing anymore, what good would the thing that helped kill shizun do? He’d throw himself off a cliff and rid the world of the other part, but he had to fix things first, he had to do right by his shizun before then.

He couldn’t stop to feel anything, he felt nothing ever, wasn’t that how demons were supposed to operate? Shizun hated demons, hated Binghe, now he understood why. Everywhere he went he ruined things. He must’ve done something terrible in a past life to be this way.

He’d only slept once in the last week though, only when he confronted shizun in the dreamscape, so when he stupidly sank down in a chair to await news from Sha Hualing and fell asleep, he nearly killed himself in the rage of it, or at least a version of himself. Shizun wasn’t able to sleep, if he couldn’t, why should Binghe?

Raising his hand, he slapped himself across the face, hard enough it would leave a mark if he were human. Then, he did it again, and again. Soon as he paused his slap-a-thon, he noticed two things. One, xin mo had blessedly stopped accompanying him into his dreams, whether that was from the distance between them now or his own mental walls being built up, he didn’t care.

The second thing he noticed was the pathway to his left, it’s sprawling ways welcoming him with the breeze sweeping through beyond it. He didn’t go through it, standing there frozen in his path staring at it.

His god was…back? They were, what? Willing to see him again? After all that? Well, he didn’t need to see them, he needed to help shizun, he needed to fix shizun, to get him back to life. He didn’t deserve to lose it, Binghe would fix it and he would take care of himself afterwards.

He took a blind step, then another, and realized too late he hadn’t changed his course enough to be traveling the loop. By the time he thought to turn back, he was already looking up and at the god. They were standing with their backs to him, arms limp at their sides. Gone all that time only to reappear when Binghe didn’t want to see them. Well, too bad, he didn’t have time for this.

Scoffing, he went to turn back and glanced over to see the other looking back at him. The sun was right above them, it’s heat not reaching them, but it’s light did. It bounced off their bright hair and made it glow, it lit up their robes and they glittered. It also made spotting the tear tracks down the others face that much easier.

They were…crying? Why would they be crying? What could a god have to be crying about?

Against his better judgement he walked over to them. They didn’t dodge back as he grew closer, didn’t flinch like–like some would have. They let Binghe come to stand in front of them and didn’t object to Binghe raising his hand to wipe at the others cheeks with his fingers.

He didn’t know what he was expecting from doing it, maybe an angry cry or disgust? They weren’t either of those thing though, all they did was sniffle when he wiped away their tears. Why would they be crying? Why was he bothering to comfort them, they were the god who let someone like shizun die.

Shizun deserved to meet this god, not him, and he certainly deserved to be living in Binghe’s place. What is it he’d said? Payback for everything? A bunch of shit. The only payback Binghe wanted was him to be alive, not that.

The god didn’t say a word as they looked at Binghe, eyes glancing between both of his before they did the unthinkable. They reached out and gently drew their arms around Binghe’s shoulders, pulling him towards them and crashing his face into their neck. At first he tried to pull back, to move away.

He didn’t deserve kindness, he didn’t deserve anything! He deserved to die in shizun’s place, not the other way around. This god, could they–were they crying because they knew what had happened?

Was there a reason they couldn’t help him? Was it truly just his fault alone he wasn’t strong enough to protect him? No, no, all he wanted was to protect him and in that he–he’d failed.

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair it wasn’t fair! He didn’t mean for shizun to–why would he do that if he–if he didn’t believe in Binghe why would he do that!?

He didn’t want to see them, he didn’t want to look at this cruel god who would let shizun die, he wanted shizun, he wanted his shizun alive and safe and–

He stopped trying to squirm free, curling his arms around the others back in a crushing movement and letting out a sob. It echoed, it echoed so far he thought it might’ve been someone else’s by the time it got back to him. Their arms tightened around his shoulder and he suddenly realized he could feel the shoulder their head rested on growing wet.

That’s right, he wasn’t the only one sobbing. Well, if they both needed comfort, if this is all he could ever do to be good ever again, he could do this. He tucked his head further into the others neck, fully conforming himself around them.

They didn’t move again until he woke up too soon. When he did wake up, it was to tear marked down his face and his body slumped to the ground.

That day Liu Qingge came and he came to fight. The strongest fighter and he was defeated by a sword-less Binghe. Pathetic. The man went home with bruises covering his everything and an even more bruised ego.

As he left, Binghe couldn’t help but think what a lie it was the man had never lost a fight. The least he could do was manage to kill Binghe, but no. He didn’t even have a sword. Whatever, he had more important things to do.

Thanks to many tired nights and long days, shizun’s body had been nearly put back together, his meridians fixed and the no-cure cured. It wasn’t enough though, Binghe needed to have full control over the demons, he needed to make sure this never happened again. He needed to make sure they could never harm anyone he loved again.

The next time he slept was a week after, right after meeting with Mobei-Jun and his little man servant who were set to go and conquer an area Binghe had had his eyes on for a while. He neglected to go though, because it would be too close to the peaks, it was too close to where he’d grown up.

Instead, he went to his room and saw shizun’s body there, then left again and slept in the space he could consider an office, hunched over his work. The pathway was a more welcome sight than last time, though not by much. He still went in, even if he didn’t know why anymore.

He needed to wake up, needed to get back to work, to try and fix shizun and bring him back. Still, he’d tried to wake up several times here, whatever his god was, he was powerful enough to stop even Binghe’s dream magic.

His god was already here soon as he stepped into the field, sitting by the stream with their sleeves rolled up and their hands plunged into the water. His skin was as pale on his arms as his face, not a mark showing against it. Good, no one like them needed to ever have a hard day in their life.

He must have done something to draw their attention as they raised their head to look up and smiled at him, bright like the sun above their head. It was still tinged with something though, that same something that lead to their last embrace.

“Binghe,” they greeted, voice soft in the air around them. Binghe carefully raised his hand in a wave to the other, feet carrying him over without thought. He couldn’t wake up, but maybe he could still brainstorm in here, maybe his god could tell him something about it. He hadn’t been a shy person in years, not to anyone but shizun and even then. He’d usually demand what he wanted and went with it from there, whoever he demanded from typically doing as he told without any more threats necessary.

The words wouldn’t make their way out of his mouth though, he couldn’t make himself speak. All he could do was squat down next to him and look into the stream. It didn’t reflect the world around them, only the blurry shapes and colors of it with the water moving as it did. He couldn’t see himself nor could he see the other besides him, but he could see the others hands as they swirled around in the water.

They didn’t speak for a while, sitting on the banks and watching the water. He continued to try and make himself speak and continued to fail at it, the entire time wanting to slap himself but not wanting to freak his god out by doing so. In the end, he hadn’t needed to worry as the other brought it up first.

“Have you ever thought about what deaths like?” Of course, he thought, with everything he’d been through his whole life, it wasn’t a subject he could ignore for long. He said nothing, hoping the other would go on and he did.

“I didn’t, not after the first time but, it’s…” he waited on baited breath, desperate to appear normal but wanting to look over and stare at him until he spit it out. “…boring.”

What? Blinking, Binghe lifted his head and looked to the other, mouth falling open lightly. They were still looking at the water, gliding their hands to and fro around it without pause.

“I thought it would be a quick thing, asleep and then awake again. It’s not. I’m just here, looking around doing nothing. You visit sometimes but even then it doesn’t happen often.” He wasn’t following what they were saying. They couldn’t be dead, that didn’t make any sense. He could see them and their fields and gods were infinite, powerful, his god was powerful.

Was he talking about a past experience? No, otherwise he wouldn’t be saying it as they did, referring to Binghe in present terms. They raised their head and looked over to him, grin having faded into a look of deep thought.

“You don’t say enough, you know? I’m talking at a brick wall here.”

“I’m sorry,” he said without thinking, not entirely sure how they’d gotten off the subject he’d wanted and onto him not talking enough. Shizun had always said he talked too much, now his god was saying it wasn’t enough? Though, he had stopped talking for a while in the abyss, even going as far as not telling Meng Mo to shut it even in his head, and picking it back up hadn’t been, well, maybe they were right.

Not the point though. He thought back to shizun’s body, laying on his bed lifeless and pale and opened his mouth again.

“If you died, how would you like to be brought back to your body?” They stared, blinked, then stared again.

“I know I’m the one who requested you talk more but what the fuck Binghe,” he wheezed out, followed closely by a snorting laughter. It was one of the most endearing noises he’d ever heard. For all this man’s voice may have been heavenly, his laugh had such a human ring to it. He hadn’t heard shizun laugh in years, much less laugh this hard. Had he ever made shizun laugh like this?

“I wouldn’t?” He what? Why was he saying what he was then? Didn’t he say he would go back?

“But you said you would come back?” They lost their smile for a second, a look he couldn’t recognize replacing it for the moment until he’d lifted his lips back up in a smile.

“Not back like that, ah! If someone dragged you back into something you left on purpose how would you feel!” He followed by shaking his head then looking back at the water again. He wasn’t following, not in the way he thinks they wanted him to. What did they mean by this?

Would they, would they get another body? Could they do that? It wasn’t exactly helpful to his predicament but it might’ve been his own fault for thinking to ask such a powerful being. Shizun wouldn’t want another body, he couldn’t imagine him wanting that.

“When I die by my own choice,” they started again, drawing Binghe’s attention back to them fully.

“I’d only come back by my choice, not because of someone bringing me back. I’d never settle for that.” His mouth fell open the longer he spoke, eyes going blurry from how long he was keeping them open. Without warning, he blinked and was lifting his head up off a scroll half filled, now back in his body.

Settle? How would it be settling if, if someone cared enough to do that? Wouldn’t he be happy if Binghe brought him back? He would destroy his roots after, he would even kill himself after if that’s what he wished, but wouldn’t he…wouldn’t shizun be happy?

The way they’d said it, the phrasing, the tone, it sounded so much like shizun though, it was–it was messing with his head. He was doing this for shizun. He was doing all of this for shizun. His god couldn’t understand, that was all.

Rising from his seat, he prepared to start up again on his plans. There was a whole demon realm just waiting for him to rule it.

It took two weeks for him to crash again, all of which time he’d discovered the exact boundaries of a half demons body. He should never again demand such boundaries be crossed of a half demon body. He would probably cross the boundaries again.

However, he’d just finished fighting Liu Qingge again. Binghe could already tell this was going to be one of those annoying reoccurring thing. It didn’t seem he would ever be in his dreamscape again, seeing as he kept waking in his gods realm. Whatever was going on with them it seemed he would be dragged into it with them.

He took his time while walking down the pathway, stepping into the space and not immediately seeing them. The possibility they weren’t here yet crossed his mind before his eyes caught on the raised ground in the field. It wasn’t there before and the longer Binghe looked, the less it looked like a bump and the more it looked like a person.

They were laying, in the field, eyes closed and arms thrown out besides them. Binghe walked over to them and leaned over them, blocking the sun from their face as he did so.

“Binghe,” they greeted without opening their eyes, lazily lifting a hand to wave to him down. He complied with the demand, sinking down cross legged with his hands resting on his knees. They cracked one of their eyes open, looking over to him with a small frown, hand falling to the ground in front of Binghe’s knees.

“Something troubles you,” he stated as though it was hard to tell. He could deny it, but his god was too good at reading him to even consider lying.

“This one is simply tired.” They hummed, shutting their eyes again but patting at the ground besides them. Binghe furrowed his brow, glancing at the space and finding nothing there that would require the movement.

“Lay down and rest then,” they went on, lifting their hand from the flowers and settling it atop their stomach instead. Binghe almost argued against the action, tried to make the words escape his mouth. What was he supposed to say though?

That he was comfortable enough hugging the god but not laying next to them? That it felt too familiar despite the fact he’d never done it with anyone else beyond his mom and there was space separating them? No, that would make him seem ridiculous.

He slowly lowered himself to lay in his back, folding his arms over his stomach and staring up at the sky. He hadn’t expected the flowers to cushion the ground as well as they did, his body sinking into their soft embrace like a bed. Clouds were going by above them, white puffy things that sometimes blocked out the suns light. A hand raised from nowhere to point and one in particular, a hand that didn’t belong to him.

“That one looks like a horse,” they said, hand not lowering. He could see where he saw it, but why was he comparing the clouds to a horse? What would the point of that be? They leaned up onto their arms to look down at Binghe, frowning again. He hated when they frowned, it looked wrong on their face. They should never have anything to frown over.

“Doesn’t Binghe not know how to make shapes of clouds?” Blinking, he glanced at the sky and back down to them, only now understanding. His ears and neck started to heat up as he looked up at the clouds again.

“Never played before,” he grumbled out quietly, soon followed by a quiet chuckle as the other laid down again.

“No, I don’t suppose Binghe would have. No time like now to learn, hmm? Come on–doesn’t that one look like a pig?” Humming, he looked at the cloud in question and discovered it looked much like a pig, yes, but he could also see something else, another person there.

“This one thinks it looks more like Liu Qingge.” Quiet, then, the other burst out into peels of laughter. A grin forced it’s way onto his face as he watched the cloud continue on with it’s course. If he were honest he wasn’t entirely certain the other would understand the reference, being a god and all he couldn’t imagine them associating themselves with such an idiot. But, they’d made references to knowing Binghe for years, he’d hoped that meant they knew those whom he interacted with.

If he knew Liu Qingge, then he must’ve known shizun. Here he was making someone else laugh when shizun was still–shizun was still dead. His smile dropped then, no matter how much he tried to bring it back. It seemed the other didn’t sense anything wrong with him though and continued to point out shapes, sometimes animals, sometimes other things. All Binghe could do was hum and agree until he woke again.

It shouldn’t have, but it became a routine, stay awake for days on end, fall asleep and have a few peaceful hours in the presence of his god. Before Binghe could keep track of it, a year had passed and he spent the familiar day drinking and sobbing.

He’d drank himself into passing out and woken up too sober in the realm again, halfway through the pathway before he realized what he was doing. He shouldn’t be allowed such happiness, it was ridiculous to think it was fair of him to do. Shizun still wasn’t alive, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Every time he thought he got close he would fail, every time he would fail he would think back to what his god had told him, and every time Liu Qingge would come, he would fight and fight and fight again. It didn’t stop, he didn’t think it would ever stop, he simply had to keep moving forwards, keep trying, keep going.

He’d conquered so much, he was starting to make a difference, all without that damned sword too. They still didn’t look happy when he appeared injured, or when the bags under his eyes had began to be more than a little noticeable, but what could they do about it? Complain? It wouldn’t stop him, nothing did anymore.

He kept stomping on, figuring he could just get there and tell the other he didn’t want to talk. He had work to do, he wasn’t nearly close to his goal for being done yet, he had so much left to do still. He had to finish, he had to fix things, he had to–

A hand landed on his shoulder and he jerked away, spinning around to see the assailant only to find them standing behind him with their hands raised in surrender. His tense shoulders relaxed soon as he saw them, his own balled fists relaxing and a sigh leaving him as he looked at them.

“Everything alright?” Nodding jerkily, he looked at the trees behind him, the flowers, the leaves, anything but them. As a result, he missed the movement of them turning and beginning to walk. Without thinking he’d followed and found himself sitting by the bank of the waterway before he’d fully realized what was happening. They had that effect on him, that willing blind following. It was dangerous, it was exhilarating, it was terrifying.

Shizun could do that to him too, and it didn’t end well. What would happen with them if Binghe kept on blindly following? Would they…be okay…with him following? Would he be okay doing that?

He’d learned a few month ago if he sank his feet into the water with his shoes on, it wouldn’t effect him when he pulled them out again, as though the water was merely an illusion that only felt like ice against his skin every time he touched it. It seemed a good idea right now to have such a feeling, so he sunk his feet into the water.

They sighed but followed his lead, both of them sitting there silently. He leaned forwards using his hands against the ground besides him to keep himself in place, staring down at the water rippling around his feet.

“Binghe is quiet.”

“This one is thinking.”

“About?” He didn’t have to answer that, surely they couldn’t be expecting him to answer that? No, no he couldn’t, not truthfully at least.

“Time,” he said instead.

“Ah,” they replied as though his answer made any sense at all. They leaned forwards as well, hands going to support themselves and falling upon Binghe’s own. They looked down at the movement but didn’t pull back, instead sending a sheepish smile his way. There wasn’t exactly enough space to move his hand anyways, so Binghe let it go.

“Apologies.”

“It’s alright.” Again, silence. They seemed to be waiting for him to say something, but he had no intention of doing anything of the sort. They couldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to, no matter how much he thought they could sometimes.

“I’ve been thinking,” they interrupted his thoughts, “When was the last time Binghe spoke to me without my starting it?” He opened his mouth to answer and found he couldn’t. It wasn’t exactly weird, he didn’t usually initiate conversations in life either unless he needed to command something.

“This one doesn’t remember.”

“No time like the present then hmm?” What should he say? They were expecting him to say something, what should he say? The only thing he could come up with was the date, the time, what he’d done. They didn’t need to hear that though, they didn’t need to hear about how hard it was waking every day and passing his room where shizun’s body still rested. He didn’t know what to do with him, he didn’t have any place to put him safely, he didn’t have anything set up, all he could do was keep him there and keep his body from rotting.

“This one doesn’t know what to say.”

“How about what’s going on Binghe, no need to look like a kicked puppy.” Oh. Oh his devious little god had tricked him again. He wanted to hear about what Binghe was thinking, what he was doing. It was…a weird thing, having someone actually ask. When he’d asked back one time, the other shrugged and said it was boring on their own.

They were a god, couldn’t they just visit someone else? He didn’t say it aloud though, secretly happy that the other thought he was good enough to be around that the boredom didn’t effect him anymore. He didn’t want to tell him today though, the other didn’t need to hear how he couldn’t figure out how to fix himself, how he couldn’t figure out how to get up most days, how he couldn’t just manage to… the other wouldn’t want to hear about any of that.

“No need to bother–“

“There’s doesn’t have to be a reason to bother me. Besides, it’s boring when you don’t tell me things, even if they’re not real.” So he did know about the times Binghe would fake something. At least they’d never called him out on it before.

“It’s been a year,” he said quietly, the others head swiveling around to face him, blinking owlishly.

“You keep better time than me,” they muttered. It didn’t help to hear, but he still almost smiled at it. Him, keeping better track of time than a god. Right. Still, they tactically kept quiet after saying such. Binghe didn’t say anything though, looking down at their hands. If he flipped his own, he could hold their hand.

They’d done it before, maybe they wouldn’t mind if he–no no, it would be too presumptuous of him to do so. The other sighed in front of him.

“You can hold my hand,” they murmured, lifting their hand the slightest bit and making it all the much easier to flip his hand around and curl his fingers over their palm. He shouldn’t be okay with their touch, he should be fighting against this, moving away, doing anything but this. Their hand was so warm though, warmer than his and it fit so well inside his own, so much smaller than his own.

“I did…all that I could,” he found himself muttering, eyes trained on their interlocked hands. They didn’t demand him to go on, instead choosing to stay quiet and squeezing his hand gently. It only made him feel worse when they did that. He wasn’t supposed to be holding their hand. He was supposed to be holding shizun’s. Right?

“Why is it not enough?” Could they even answer him? Could anyone? It wasn’t a simple question, loaded with years worth of guilt and failure, and probably more to follow in the future.

“When is it enough?” It came out wrong, his tone uneven and voice cracking. He’d started squeezing their hand back, careful not to exert too much force. They were a god, he understood that, but he couldn’t live with himself if he’d hurt them. They hummed in return to what he was saying.

“Sometimes we do all we can and it’s…it’s not enough. Gathering points–ah, merits, trying to avoid things. It’s not always possible, I wish it was.” Frowning lightly, he felt the tears starting to gather in his eyes as he looked over at the other. At some point either he had unconsciously moved closer, or the other did.

The thing was, they were sitting much closer then they had been now, close enough for him to just let his head go and… his head landed on the others shoulder lightly, nose pressed to the fabric on his shoulder. He panicked for a moment when the other tensed under his touch, worried he’d finally overstepped.

Then, the other not only relaxed but dropped his own head onto Binghe’s, his cheek pressing into Binghe’s hair. Now he was worried for another reason altogether. He had a lot of hair, wasn’t it bound to drown the other? Shizun used to say he could drown people with the amount of hair he had and Binghe always took it as a joke, but now he worried he could actually do it. He stayed perfectly still until he heard the other sigh softly.

“Fluffy hair, very soft,” he said in a near whisper and Binghe nearly lost it. Clearly he had not meant to say that. If they could fall asleep here he thinks the other was close to it. Instead of shaking and possibly disturbing the other, he rubbed circles on the back of the others hand and shut his eyes. They said nothing for the rest of the night, not when he soaked their shoulder, and not when he shifted to hug them fully, staying silent and hugging him back just as fiercely.

Chapter Text

It got harder to fight Qingge after that, even harder to watch him walk away empty handed. He didn’t understand the feeling, he wanted to bring shizun back, he wanted to fix things, but he…he also wanted shizun to be at rest though. He deserved to finally rest. If all was true, all his life shizun had been fighting. He deserved to live but.

But he also deserved to rest for once. He couldn’t decide what to do, not until he was walking through Huan Hua and spotted Mobei’s manservant. He was hovering nervously by a window, his hands fiddling around something. He hadn’t heard Binghe approach, no one did until it was too late, which gave him plenty of time to get close enough to see what he was holding.

It was a fan, one he recognized at first glance. He nearly snatched it from him before catching the look on the others face. The short man was frowning down at shizun’s fan, opening it slowly then closing it again and Binghe suddenly remembered the fact this man too was a peak lord. Not of the same degree as shizun, but the title still applied to him.

Silent as possible, he slipped in next to the man and waited until he noticed him. It took an embarrassing amount of time to be noticed, more than anyone he’d ever met, but the moment he did made it worth it. The man suddenly looked over and startled so bad he flung the fan in the air when he jumped back, clutching at his chest and wheezing. With no effort, Binghe caught the fan and inspected it in his hands.

“M–my lord,” he squeaked out as if this was their first time meeting. He nodded in lieu of greeting him back, raising his head soon as he was sure the fan was fine.

“Where did you get–“

“Cucum–mm–Shen Qingqiu lent it t–to me!” Was he sure? The way he’d said it was as though it were someone else who lent it to him, though Binghe did recall the man being odd. Had he and shizun ever even interacted? On nice terms? He was gone for three years but, surely that couldn’t have changed much? Then again, shizun’s was particular about his fan collection, no random person, peak lord or not, could have just picked it up and went with it.

Frowning, he looked down at the fan in his hands. Shizun was his own person, with the right to be friends with whoever, Binghe had no control over that. Of course he could be friends with the other peak lords, he was! But, he looked back up at the man in front of him, did he have to choose the squirrelly one to be friends with?

“If my lord would excuse me–“

“Wait,” he said before he could fully think it through, lowering the fan to his side. Whatever his name was paused his turn away and looked back at Binghe, clearly having not expected to be called out. He looked more nervous than usual, though that was a near constant for the man so who was he to judge.

“I have a question to ask you.”

“My lord?”

“Shizun, he–“ he stopped, his voice dropping in volume. “Would shizun have liked…to be put to rest on the peaks?” The guy was staring at him, his mouth wide along with his eyes. Honestly, what Mobei saw in this man was beyond Binghe.

“I–I think so. Yes, my lord, I think he wo–would have.” Binghe stared for a moment, then nodded slowly. The man took this as his cue to leave and bowed his head quickly before nearly running away to escape him, not even bothering to grab the fan back from Binghe’s hand. Despite his asking, despite the opinion of both the squirrelly man and nearly everyone else, Binghe still found he couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t until the date had nearly rolled around again he found himself standing in front of shizun’s body, rearranged perfectly with his robes folded around him, hands tucked atop him with his fan folded in them. He was pale, paler than he’d been in life, and Binghe may have started sobbing soon as he finished transferring him into the mobile bed.

He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t do this! He–he had to. Shizun–he…he deserved to rest. He needed to remember, it wasn’t about Binghe, it wasn’t about him. It was about shizun.

The next time Liu Qingge came, Binghe was waiting for him alone in front of Huan Hua. The man already had his sword drawn, stomping on the ground like it had done him personal offense. Soon he spotted Binghe his snarl grew, then he spotted the bed and he froze. Binghe took the opportunity of his confusion to stride forwards and grab the others lapels and drag him forwards.

He said nothing as the man’s eyes flickered over to him, only letting go of the fabric when he’d delivered what he hoped to be the last punch to the man’s face he ever had to do. Then, he took a step back, turned, and returned to the palace alone.

He didn’t go back into his room, he’d need to choose a new one now, he couldn’t stay here anymore. They’d give him a proper burial, better than Binghe could have ever given him. He deserved it, deserved the respect and to be home in his peak again. As he sank down, he noticed everything had blurred and nearly questioned when he slept last when the first tear fell.

Oh. Oh. Of course. He was crying.

Acknowledging it didn’t make them stop, but it did help him when he curled his arms under his head and sobbed into the sleeves of his robes. He didn’t sleep though, he did not deserve to be in the presence of his god when he couldn’t even save the man he loved. He didn’t sleep for so long, and by the time he wanted sleep, he still couldn’t.

They were to do a raid, or they were looting, or they were conquering and eventually he was ruling and he was…he was atop a throne in Huan Hua. The palace master was long gone, Binghe made sure of it. The little letch wouldn’t have anything to do with anything now, not that he told anyone that.

Mobei seemed to be having a nice time out taking territory that used to be owned by someone he didn’t care about with one name or another, Binghe wasn’t really listening, he was so tired. Sha Hualing had gone with him, said she wanted to create a little chaos for no reason, and he’d let her. If she got to bad Mobei would take care of her, but he doubted he had anything to worry about.

He should be better by now though, able to stay up forever if necessary. Yet his eyes they kept…they kept getting…he was so tired…and they kept falling…

Soon as he opened his eyes he knew he’d fallen asleep, he was probably still sitting on that throne right now. Oh well. If anyone tried to do anything, someone else would kill them. He didn’t need to be worried.

When he finally finished construction on his castle in the demon realm, it would be easier. He’d have places to go then, places he could stay if one became to much and he needed to get away.

He shouldn’t have hesitated as long as he did outside the pathway, feet frozen to the ground as he stared ahead. He genuinely couldn’t remember the last time he saw his god. What if they’d forgotten him? What if they got bored of him? What if he’d ruined their…whatever with his stupidity? He wouldn’t know unless he walked in of course, but that was it’s own issue.

Then again, he’d convinced them to like him once—somehow—he could do it again. He totally didn’t walk at a slower pace than normal to prolong it though, no, he was a powerful demon lord, he didn’t need to do that. Yeah, so anyways, unrelated, the pathway around him was actually quite beautiful if one stopped to look at it long enough.

Clearly not long enough though seeing as he still found his feet sinking into a field of flowers and his eyes settling on the man he expected. He was sitting in the center of the flowers, staring at the stream–well, no, he wasn’t staring, he was glaring. As though the thing had done him personal offense. Binghe would’ve laughed at the scene if he weren’t so terrified to move.

Breathing in slowly, he tried to prepare himself before stepping into the field. He didn’t get the chance though as a second later his head snapped over to glare at Binghe. His breath froze in his lungs as he stared at their face, how they had started glaring before seeing Binghe, how it softened into genuine surprise when he saw who it was.

Ungracefully, he started to climb to his feet and nearly face planted. Binghe was there in the blink of an eye, catching the others arm and helping him up fully. He smiled when he saw it was Binghe though, smiling brightly up at him with his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Binghe, I was beginning to think you would never come back,” he said as though the words didn’t sent a pang through his heart. “It’s been months!” And yep, that one hurt.

Had it really been months? He didn’t think it had, time was…weird these days, but it had been weird for years now. He’d left his god alone for that long though, left him to rot in these fields like he did shiz–

Like he had for his shizun. It was still hard to think of, so he chose not to most days. He only let shizun resurface in his mind on the nights he knew he had time to remember, the nights he knew he had all the time in the world to sob into his sheets. Yet, he’d done what he did for him to his god, the only good thing left in his life and he’d done that to them. Damn him.

“This one apologizes, he didn’t mean to be gone so long.” They didn’t lose the smile, waving him down as they sank into the flowers once more.

“Sit sit, I don’t have tea–“

“This one would pour it if you did,” he interrupted, cheeks flushing soon as he did. Did these months of no sleep also knock every brain cell he had out of his head? Why would he say that? To them? They reeled back the slightest bit before snorting and shaking their head.

“I know Binghe. Now, come on don’t leave me waiting ah, what’s happened?” Time passes different in the realm with his god, a few minutes was sometimes hours, hours was sometimes minutes. This time, the hours they spent together equaled out to hours in life and he woke up to not just no one near to him but having slept for the first time in months.

He felt great, powerful, rejuvenated. He’d forgotten how good sleep felt and decided to try and do it more often. It was totally because it got him through the day with more ease, absolutely not because he found out his god had been alone in there for months. Nope.

Anyways…meeting with his god, it helped. Not much else to say on it, when Binghe saw him at the end of a long day, or got to tell him about something, anything really, it made getting up again easier. The day news reached him they’d finished shizun’s memorial, when his castle in the demon realm was done, anytime anything happened, he could talk to him, or he could simply see them.

They spoke back to him though, always giving opinions, giving out advise. Sometimes when he spoke, he sounded so much like shizun it made Binghe nearly break down, then other times he couldn’t be more different. It wasn’t fair to compare the two, he knew that, they were different. He couldn’t help it though. He was starting to feel again and he, he knew what it was he was feeling.

Every time he saw them, every night going to sleep excited, waking up happy he saw them, the butterflies, the smiles. It wasn’t fair, he just lost shizun, why would his heart do this? He still loved shizun, he could feel it every time he thought about him, could hear it in his own voice when he said his name. Why would his heart do this.

“Can you love two people?” He’d asked once, receiving a raised eyebrow from the other.

“Context?” No, he didn’t want to do that. How could he…there had to be a way to do this. Sucking in a breath, he avoided the others eyes and looked at the water.

“This…I loved someone then I–I lost them. Now I–I still love…but I’m feeling for another person?” Frowning, he wanted to slap at the water, to make it feel something instead of him. He didn’t though, keeping his hands firmly curled around the knees he’d drawn up to his chin. Next to him, they hummed, dragging the sound out until Binghe looked over at them. They didn’t look back at him, one hand curled under their chin thoughtfully.

“Hadn’t expected a philosophical question,” they muttered, making Binghe flash a small grin. “I think it’s alright. If that person you lost was good they would want you to move on. If that person you love now as well knows the past and chooses not to love you because of it, then that’s their fault and not Binghe’s, hmm?”

“Isn’t it disrespectful to sh–ah, to them if I–if this one were to–were to,” he trailed off, losing his point in the face of the others kind smile.

“Disrespect to love someone, peh! If it were disrespectful it wouldn’t exist! Binghe should live his dreams with no guilt!” His mouth nearly fell open as the other pounded on his own chest, nodding with his own words. He seemed sure of what he was saying, and Binghe didn’t want to disrespect his god, so he kept his mouth carefully shut as he nodded.

“This one understands.”

“That’s not to say you shouldn’t tell them about it, ah, these things can’t be kept inside forever and women love to hear about your past!” Women? Did he think Binghe was talking about loving a woman? He wasn’t but, would they care if he said it wasn’t? If he said it was them? No, he wasn’t even sure himself yet, better to let them think as much until he was certain.

Soon as he woke up, he continued working while the thought haunted him. Obviously he cared about them, that was clear, but did he love them like he knew he did shizun? He didn’t think he could ever love someone the way he loved shizun, but his mother had once told him loving people was never the same. This must’ve been what she meant, Binghe couldn’t think of any other reason to be so confused.

It wasn’t family love, he knew that, and they’d been friends for so long before he felt like this. So then, why was he so scarred to say anything? There had to be a reason beyond shizun. Was there ever a reason beyond shizun? He needed time to think it over, more time to try and figure it out.

Thankfully, it seemed he had all the time in the world to think it over as he fell asleep again and again, waking to their face every night. He could recall in clarity when the fourth year since shizun’s passing went, and he’d finally secured his place as demon lord. He’d had no help beyond the connections he’d made, he didn’t have to rely on a sword that screamed at him to do anything anymore nor his connections to his former sect.

Some days he could still hear it in his head, near the back, screaming for him, crying how he was a coward, yelling at him for abandoning it. One thing was for certain though, the loss of the sword had certainly made Meng Mo happier. The demon was very loud and more often than once Binghe thought of expelling him from his head.

Surely the man was strong enough to take form again. Anytime he’d bring it up though, it was always ‘Oh, not quite yet,’ or ‘I’ve more still to teach you!’ He had nothing more to teach Binghe, to make that point perfectly clear, he’d long since passed the demon in skill. Honestly why he still bothered to keep the man around was beyond him.

Again, as was customary, he drank himself into a stupor though, heart heavy the entire time and not even sinking down half of what he’d had the year before when his eyes started to drop.

As though they knew what had happened, they welcomed Binghe with a smile upon his entrance and a small pat to the ground next to them.

“Hello,” he greeted solemnly as he sank down, folding his hands atop his lap as the other hummed to him.

“There aren’t any clouds today, it must be a sign of good things,” they started, head tilted back and exposing their neck as they looked up to what was probably a cloudless sky. He didn’t know, hadn’t looked. They wouldn’t lie to him about that kind of thing though, so he nodded jerkily.

“If you came back to life with nothing to your name, what would you do?” He’d be shocked at the question if they hadn’t asked questions like that before. His god had an odd way of talking, though their words tended to take on an odd edge to them more often than not. He wouldn’t not answer them though, he always answered them as honestly as he could. This time was no different as he skidded his eyes off them and onto the sky where there indeed was no clouds.

“Try to rebuild again,” he answered, dozens of plans cycling through his mind how he could rebuild off of nothing. Ugh, it would be a pain to redo, but at least this time he had the experience to know what he should and shouldn’t do. Wait, was this referring to going back in time, or losing everything and being totally left in the mud? They didn’t specify on the question he hadn’t voiced aloud, instead sighing lightly and lowering their head again.

“And if you were avoiding something that could come up if you went back, then what?” What could possibly come up? With the way he’d said it, Binghe had to assume they were running off the second of the two possibilities he’d thought up. If there was something he’d wanted to avoid that would be inevitable, and the option to kill it wasn’t an option what would he do? Suddenly, the exact reason he’d been putting something off popped into his mind and he knew his honest answer.

“This one would not go back and start over again somewhere else. Perhaps wandering,” he added as an afterthought. He’d solidified his position as demon lord, had control over a good portion of the demon realm and was well on his way to having it all; but. How good was all of that if the demons were still both rampant and the humans still feared them? How good was it if the border still needed things like constant human patrolling, the lands near it nearly barren of people and demons alike.

The best course of action was to approach the sects and attempt a sort of treaty between them. However, the strongest sect, and the one he’d have to approach first, was not a place of which he wanted to return to. Having to face Liu Qingge or, gods forbid, even their sect leader? It made him nearly gag to think about.

He couldn’t send anyone else though, Sha Hualing had already caused issues there before now, Mobei-Jun would absolutely attempt to freeze it over. His manservant could go, but Mobei would go with him and then they’d end up in option two’s outcome again. There weren’t exactly a lot of people he trusted, including those who served him. He also couldn’t send anyone lower or it would be an insult and less likely to achieve the outcome he wanted. If he were an option, he might’ve sent Meng Mo seeing as he was the only one Binghe was sure would both not betray him and wouldn’t lose his head the second he crossed into their territory. However, small issue, the demon was still in his head and not leaving. Which, unfortunately, left him.

The idea had presented itself several times over the past few years but each time he found a reason to not go through with it. Originally it was the anger of what had happened, then things weren’t good enough yet, or his position wasn’t safe yet, there wasn’t enough outreach, he didn’t have enough land to qualify him to speak to them. They’d run out months ago, all that he had left was the fact he didn’t want to.

“Yes, I suppose Binghe would do that,” they said, not telling him the meaning to their words nor the reason for the question in the first place. The rest of their time was spent in silence until Binghe awoke again and had to go back to life. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop thinking of their last meeting all day. He never stopped thinking about their last meetings but this time it really stuck with him. He couldn’t tell whether they were trying to tell him to get a move on, or if they were truly referring to their own life.

They didn’t have nothing though, even if they couldn’t go back to whatever it was the god had been doing before, they still had Binghe. He might not have much but he was still trying, he could get it. He had reach in all of the demon realm, Huan Hua palace was his, though he ought to be doing something with…hang on.

He couldn’t send anyone from there to the peaks as representatives, but he could have them start to outreach to the others sects. It wouldn’t fix everything, but the peaks had taken a hit in reputation when shizun died. He might be able to do something if he approached the others and them, all at once and carefully. He wouldn’t put the lives of his own accumulated demon army in danger if it was a Huan Hua disciple going.

The news he stayed in Huan Hua had reached others but he knew most of them either didn’t think much of it, or figured it wasn’t their problem. He could do something with it. Of course, that still meant him going to the peaks, but if they should fail he would have others to rely on as well as the fact he didn’t have to go back to the peaks again.

Pounding his head into his work space, he stood a moment later and temporarily looked to his bed. He’d just woken up after a whole nights sleep, so why did getting more sleep sound so good right now? Ugh, no, he had work to do, work that would need to be done outside his room. Thanks to his currently being in the demon realm, he’d have to go and get Mobei before he could just go to the peaks, which gave him time to pass the order for disciples to make their way out to other sects.

Of course, soon as he found the man and realized what he was doing, he tried to stop. However, bad news was he’d already said what he was doing and Mobei had already opened the portal. Crap, he couldn’t turn back, he’d lose face in front of a subordinate. Halfway to grumbling over nothing, he stepped through and came out on the other side to a sight he used to know so well.

Mobei came out with him, as well as his squirrelly subordinate that Binghe’s eyes he skipped right over without his noticing. Huh, the man must’ve been good for something if Binghe didn’t notice him right away. Either way, he was glancing between Mobei and Binghe, hunched over and hands fiddling around one another.

“My–my king? What are we doing here?” Right, yes, the man was originally a peak lord. The information probably wouldn’t help considering he was also a spy for Mobei but he could be useful. The barrier around the peaks didn’t deter him as he stepped through, careful to choose the pathway that wouldn’t lead to shizun’s peak.

What was he doing? Oh he shouldn’t be doing this, what would he even say? He hadn’t practiced or prepared anything–no, that’s a lie. He’d been prepping to do this for over a year now, but he’d never had the nerve. Now he was here and he still didn’t have the nerve. Still, he refused to show it on the outside and continued to step up up up, their never ending stairs keeping him busy.

Thankfully he never actually stopped long enough these days to rest and his body was well used to him pushing him up and forwards and through anything. All that muscle he’d lost when xin mo had been draining his soul away had been rebuilt along with more, his mind as stable as could be with everything going on all the time, pulling him in dozens of directions at once. He stood by the fact though, that he would be ten times worse if xin mo was still by his side. When they reached the top, the only full human amongst them was panting, hands resting on his knees as he breathed deeply.

“Why couldn’t we have taken the swords up?” He asked as though Binghe had been carrying any kind of sword in the last five years. Eventually he would need to replace it with something but what was he supposed to do? Get yet another cursed thing and deal with it until it killed someone else he loved? No, what if the next ‘xin mo’ were to hurt his god? What if he killed them like he did shizun? No, no he didn’t want that. Therefore, no sword.

He didn’t bother answering him, turning to continue on his way. The first disciple to see him froze, their eyes wide and searching over the trio in shock until they landed on their token human.

“Shang-shifu!” They cried, confusion apparent in their eyes.

“Tell your sect leader this one requests a meeting in his presence,” Binghe called out, voice loud and clear and not shaking as he’d feared. Just incase his appearance didn’t suggest it enough, he lifted his lips in a smirk and shooed them. Unsurprisingly, the backbone to the peaks hadn’t become better in the time he’d been there and they actually did what he demanded without trying to fight him first.

Ridiculous. Honestly, what was he afraid of happening? That shizun would just walk out and–no, he couldn’t go there. He needed to do this, for shizun’s sake. If along the way he found himself unable to look anywhere but dead forwards, then that was no one’s business but his own. They followed the pathway the disciple had taken, steps slow and making sure anyone who saw them knew exactly who Binghe was. Most of them recognized him, as well as several recognized their squirrelly man. There weren’t many to recognize Mobei though, which may have been more of a blessing than a curse.

They came upon a building he recognized to be the place the peak lords gathered and for a moment Binghe wondered why they would come here before he’d realized how stupid the question was. Of course on the day he came they’d be having a meeting, he couldn’t just win one thing. He could however, frame it as something he did on purpose, no matter the fact it very much was not.

The door had just closed behind the little disciple when Binghe moved to open it again. Shoving with both hands, the pair of doors swung open easily under his touch, letting light into the room and drawing the attention of every other person in the room. Despite all Binghe thought of them, the disciple had actually managed to make it to Yue Qingyuan and tell him what was to come. At least, that’s what he assumed seeing as when the man stood and looked to Binghe, he didn’t look the same as every other person in the room.

“Stay back,” he commanded of Mobei, a small swing of his hand carefully picking out their remaining member and dragging him in as well. The doors shut behind them a second later, casting the room back into darkness as all eyes went between him and the man next to him.

“Sect leader Yue,” he greeted, sarcasm snaking into his voice even when he hadn’t meant it to. Honestly, why he’d been worried about these people was beyond him, they were just the idiots who lived atop their little mountains and ignored the world around them, nothing more. There had only been one amongst them who was special, all the rest mediocre and bland.

“Lord Luo,” he greeted back oddly respectful. “To what might we owe this meeting?”

“I’ve come to make a proposal.” He opened his mouth to say something before pausing, shutting his mouth again, and opening it.

“And should we not agree with your proposal?” He said, a tilt in his otherwise calm voice Binghe was sure would turn into a threat if it were directed at anyone else. Seriously, what would he do? Kill Binghe? Been there, tried that, it didn’t go well the first dozen times, he doubted it would go well now.

“Then this venerable one will move onto the next sect and make our proposal there, and the next. Honestly, you aren’t special in having a sect,” he added, tilting his own head as he smirked. He could see a vein twitch in the other forehead and knew it was working. Then, Liu Qingge stood up with his hand already on the sword by his side, teeth barred at Binghe.

“What are you doing here, murderer! Was what you’ve done not enough for you! I’ll put your head on a stick!” Oh, he hadn’t expected that to hurt, not the stick part, but shizun. The smile didn’t drop from his face as he turned to look at him.

“This venerable one is aware of what he’s done, otherwise this one would find no need to come to your mountains of all places.”

“What is it you wish to propose then?” Yue Qungyuan said, dragging all attention back to him in the front of the room.

“Nothing terrible this one promises. No heads on sticks necessary. This one simply wanted to know if sect leader Yue was tired of losing disciples to demons.”

“Is this some sick joke?”

“If only, then I would be laughing.” They stared at each other, him no longer smiling, the others hand settled on the hilt of his sword. In all his years on the peaks, he’d never seen the man pull the sword out. He’d once heard shizun muttering to himself about what it could be, but Binghe never knew. Didn’t care to guess if he was honest.

“This one asked a question.”

“Why should I answer?”

“If you were tired, I would be able to propose the treaty prepared, if not then I’m sure you can live with yourself the next time your disciples or random humans were to die to a demon, and the next, and the next–“

“Enough,” he commanded, voice echoing around the room. “Speak plainly.”

“I can’t make it more clear for you to understand.”

“Why would you, a demon lord, want a treaty? From us?”

“You’ll hardly be the only one on the treaty, but it’s rather simple. I have some demons I’ve lost as well, and I know none of you would care to hear but they weren’t terrible, simply living their lives and killed by humans. I’m sure you’ve had the same happen. I want there to be some semblance of peace between the realms, if only for the sake of less paperwork.” Silence came in the place of his proclamation and he somehow managed to keep his composure.

Then, “What would the specifics be?”

“Nothing impossible, even for your people. You keep an eye on your disciples and keep them in their places, I’ll keep my demons in their place as well.”

“You can’t control them all.”

“Much like you can’t control every human, it happens. This will help though.”

“How?” Yue Qingyuan asked, no longer having a vein sticking out in his forehead and seeming to actually be listening. Finally.

“You’d be surprised how easy they are to keep in control when thrown a bone or two.”

“You feed them live humans?” The voice belonged to their medic, Mu Qingfang was it? Something like that. Binghe turned to raise an eyebrow to them.

“Humans die all the time, I can’t help them if they weren’t buried properly. Battlefields are barren for a reason. If it isn’t them, it’s humans looking for a loose penny.” None of them denied it, though he could see several faces who looked ready to fight him soon as they had the chance.

“Why not just combine the realms if you’re so worried,” Qingge snapped, teeth still barred. Binghe didn’t know whether it was appropriate or not to laugh at the idea, then chose to do it anyways.

“This one had considered it, but the action would only cause more issues as well and the destruction of most of humanity. Not only that, but the abyss opening right above your peaks, which might be the only thing I would consider good.”

“Why you–“

“Liu-shidi.” At the front of the room, Yue Qingyuan sighed lightly, nodding his head and gesturing to the open seat at the end of the table as he sank back into his seat, waving Qingge to do the same. Binghe looked at it in false disgust but sank down easily enough, if only because it was entertaining to watch the few around him squirm, wanting to move away but not wanting to be cowards for doing so.

“You can sit too Shang-shidi.” Eyes then switched back to this Shang man and Binghe finally remembered his name. Shang Qinghua. Yeesh. He was going to keep calling him squirrel man in his head. The man sank down in an open seat provided by one of the guys who had been sitting next to Binghe that moved away at the first opportunity. Coward. Once seated, the other started speaking again, his features calmer than even before Binghe had come in.

“How can we trust you?” What did they want him to do, a dance? Singing? Did they want him to chop off an arm? Did they know it would grow back?

“Demon attacks have gone down recently,” he said plainly, watching their faces as realization settled over their features, “Haven’t they?”

“What happens if we have issues with them then?” Letting out another chuckle, he tilted his head back as he laughed.

“If demons start to make trouble,” he started, lowering his head again and grinning at them. “Then me or my associates will take care of them.”

“Hmm, you’re offer sounds promising, but I don’t know how well it would work.”

“That’s because you’ve given me enough time to sit and nothing more. If either of us wish for this to work, it will sadly cost me having to speak to you for longer.”

“Why you–“ again, Yue Qingyuan raised his hand, cutting Liu Qingge off.

“Lord Luo, surely you understand my apprehension towards agreeing to such a thing.”

“Understand? I’ve come to you when every single one of your ‘elite’ peak lords were at your side, while I have come with little more than one man who collects knowledge instead of swords. This one must not have made it clear before, I don’t like you. But this treaty goes beyond past problems and towards not losing anyone else.” He could tell the moment the other realized what he was referring to, his eyes widening a fraction as his brows jumped up and back down, landing back into a neutral look. He didn’t speak for several moment, but when he did it was with a nod.

“I’ll have to think on it, but I believe another meeting between us is inevitable.”

“Joyous. This one will be taking his leave then.”

“Safe travels.” Standing from his seat, he started towards the door, pausing at it to look back at Mobei’s manservant. He had been staring shocked at Yue Qingyuan like he hadn’t expected that to work. Soon as he realized Binghe had already stood, he rushed to stand, stumbling and nearly falling along the way.

“Shang-shidi, if you could wait,” Yue Qingyuan called out behind him and the man paused. Glancing between the two, Binghe inwardly sighed. Why was he doing this, he was Mobei’s manservant, not Binghe’s problem. Time away from the sword must be making him soft. That and it seemed like it would be funny to do.

“Mobei-Jun will come pick you up later,” he called out, dragging the man’s attention over to himself again as his mouth fell open. Binghe didn’t stay longer than that, leaving and coming back into the bright sun outside where Mobei waited by the doors. He had no doubt the man had heard everything going on inside, so he didn’t bother explaining and simply started walking forwards. Besides, if he was good for nothing else, he could lend them credibility, assuming they didn’t choose to kill him at least. He better come back with a date at least.

Before they’d reached the top of the hill, an idea came to mind and he stopped.

“Go and wait at the bottom,” he said without explanation, receiving a nod before he’d moved on and left Binghe alone. That was fine as a moment later he was gone too, walking briskly to a place he’d never been before. It was surprisingly easy to find, almost like it’d been waiting for him to come to it.

It was even easier to find shizun’s monument, the newest looking one there, his feet coming to a standstill soon as his eyes settled on it. It was big, words inscribed into it’s surface he didn’t want to read. He already knew all he needed to of shizun’s life, all he would tell to Binghe at least, the words of someone else weren’t something he wanted to ruin his own image of shizun with.

His complete sword was resting atop it, unlike the other ones around it, settled in it’s sheath and displayed on the top of the bright stone. Crashing to his knees, he bowed his head to it.

“I’m sorry shizun,” he whispered, hands folded out in front of himself. He hadn’t come to see his monument yet, how unfilial of him.

Tears slipped through his eyes the longer he stayed, staining the ground beneath him until they dried and were soaked again. Some days were better than others with shizun’s memory, this would not be a good one as he shut his eyes and saw his face behind his eyelids.

He knew he was gone, had held his body in death and handed it over for this as well. It still hurt, it hurt so bad it felt like his world was crashing, like his stomach was being twisted, like his heart was being ripped out over and over again. Squeezing his eyes shut, he grit his teeth and stayed bowed in front of shizun’s monument until he had no tears left in him to cry, then stayed for longer.

The sun had started to go down by the time he drew himself up standing again. Walking slowly over to it, he trailed his fingers over it’s cold top and stared down at Xui Ya’s sheath. Before leaving, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the sheath of his shizun’s sword and bowed to it once more.

Then, he turned and walked back down the mountain. Halfway there, he met up with the manservant who took one look to Binghe, glanced in the direction he came from, and smartly kept his mouth shut. They stepped down the stairs together, silence the only thing accompanying them for a while.

“You were shizun’s friend, correct?” He suddenly said as they reached the halfway mark.

“My lord?”

“Were you not?”

“Ah, I don’t know. Sometimes it seemed like we were, then cucumber-bro would be mean again,” he half whined, shoulders falling like he’d forgotten who he was talking to. Instead of calling him out, Binghe hummed.

“Would he,” he paused, unsure of exactly where to go from here. The other didn’t seem to have an issue waiting, looking over at Binghe curiously.

“Would he agree with what I’m doing?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, cucumber-bro would love it! Less needing to go out and more time to laze around, he’d be all over it!” Shizun didn’t laze about–well, no, he did. Okay, this guy might’ve known him a little better than Binghe had given him credit for. He still couldn’t imagine shizun being friends with such a man but here he was.

“Besides, he’d also like you were on good terms with the sect,” the other admitted quietly, as though the words weren’t supposed to be said aloud nor heard. Binghe smiled at the idea, pride growing in his chest for managing to actually start doing something for shizun. Even if he didn’t know it, even if the man would never see it, Binghe was still happy to make it better for him.

Maybe he could make things easier for his god too, less harsh conditions make for a calmer mind and make for an easier shift back into life. They reached the bottom of the mountain then, easily spotting Mobei waiting for them alone, his hands folded behind his back.

“My king,” Shang Qinghua called out, waving his hand to the man with a smile. Mobei looked over at the cry, showing no obvious signs of it, but his unclasped hands spoke enough. Wow. He could do better, but he could do worse too. Soon as they came close enough, Mobei was opening the portal and Shang Qinghua stepped through. Binghe hesitated outside it though, casting a short glance the others way.

“I’ve decided your manservant isn’t allowed to die,” he announced, earning a small hum from the other before they both stepped through and back into the castle. He split off from the pair immediately, heading towards his chambers to figure out the exact perimeters to the treaty, especially considering Shang Qinghua had told him a date when they’d been nearing the foot of the mountain.

After the period of time in which he went so long between seeing his god, Binghe had become more careful about how often he went between sleeping, only going as far as missing two nights before remembering to sleep once more. This time, seeing as he was working, he’d skipped a night before falling asleep, and that was only because Sha Hualing would threaten him if he didn’t get enough sleep to spar her when she wanted to.

The pathway appeared beneath his feet as he stepped in, robes swirling around him, hair bouncing on his shoulders, lips pulled tight over his teeth. He should’ve gone another night, he needed to get this right, needed to try and fix it.

As he grew closer though, something pulled him from his mind as his eyes lifted from his feet to look ahead where he couldn’t yet see them. He could hear their voice though, and they were singing. They sang many times before, but they always stopped soon as he appeared, their calming voice falling into a tone of talking, not his beautiful singing. Binghe carried himself further, carefully tucking himself far enough into the shrubbery he could see them and they could see him, only if they looked for him though. They were spinning in circles, throwing their arms out in wide arching gestures as their voice grew in volume and emotion. When Binghe caught look of their face they were smiling brightly, eyes squeezed shut as they screamed the words to a song he didn’t know nor understood. Their feet kicked at the flowers and sent them flying into the air, sleeves twisting and turning around their arms, totally unable to keep up with his arm movements. Above all the sun shone on them, haloing every movement made.

They were beautiful, the kind that belonged in monuments everywhere, painted and sculpted in gold. His heart thudding in his chest soon as he saw them smiling and continued to do so as they kept spinning and gesturing and screaming with a voice that struck through his skull like the tide of an ocean against rocky shore. He couldn’t breath, the longer he watched the more he wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees at their feet, worshiping every move and word they said until the only meaning possibly left to them could be love. He would behold and hold onto them if given the chance, watch and pray to if only from afar, but they wouldn’t want that. They never did.

His shizun never sang, not that Binghe had heard, yet they sang so loud and brightly for no reason other than the love of it. They were so different from one another, but Binghe could still see the shadow of his shizun behind them. Would he…would he approve of them? Would he look to them and see what Binghe did? Binghe knew it wasn’t fair to compare them, and he wasn’t. He just hoped his shizun would look to Binghe and see him with his god. He hoped shizun would see them and smile, and even if he didn’t, Binghe would trick himself into believing he would for one night, if only so he could see the other smile like this again.

They finished it off with a loud last yell, stopping their movements with their arms at their side and fists curled up, smile still in place. For a single second he imagined his shizun looking onto him, smiling down from behind his fan with his robes and hair perfectly done as it always was, and Binghe imagined him nodding to him as though his spirit were there with them. It was only a moment, and he’d most likely imagined the whole thing, but he hoped he didn’t. If shizun liked them, then that meant Binghe was okay to like them. Right?

For a moment there was silence before they drew in a deep breath and panted in the air lost during their song. Binghe stepped into the field then, clapping his hands lightly as the other turned to face him, smile dropping until he saw Binghe there, it turning bashful a moment later as his cheeks glowed a lovely shade of red. Why would they be shy? It was one of the most amazing things Binghe had ever seen. If he were ever so lucky to see it again, he might actually fall to his knees in front of the other and cry.

“Binghe didn’t say he was here,” they said and he let his hands fall as he moved closer, tucking them behind his back and smiling as he came to a stop in front of them.

“If this one spoke, he wouldn’t be able to hear the rest of the song,” he explained lightly, smile still in place. In front of him the other sighed, raising his hand to scratch at his cheek, as though trying to hide his face. Binghe would get them a veil like Liu Mingyan if he could, or a fan–no, not a fan. Either way he couldn’t get them anything in here. It was their realm after all, which meant if they wanted something they would’ve gotten it for themselves already. All the better they didn’t seeing as without it he got to watch the red slowly wash over them and wonder how far it went.

“Pfft, Binghe is better than I, I’m afraid.” That would be where they were wrong. He could think of no better singer in this realm or the next where anyone is better than his god at singing.

“No, no one could be better,” he said, nodding along to his own words. A face lingered in the back of his mind as he’d said it, but he’d never heard shizun sing before. He couldn’t say who was better if he’d never heard it. He could imagine him being amazing at it too, though, couldn’t help but think the man would be good at anything he tried.

Except cooking. To say there was a reason that was Binghe’s job would be putting it nicely.

“Binghe is being nice. What kept you so long, this one missed the company.” Smiling, Binghe nodded and began to tell the other what he’d been trying to do, filling the time away as much as he could until the other cut in and their subject changed to something else.

He loved talking to them. It was obvious by now, he quite loved talking with them anytime he could. And he could talk to them every night. He remembered a few years ago when he could only go to sleep and hope to see them, more often than not being disappointed by the lack of it and stuck wasting away in his own dreamscape.

He got to see them everyday though, falling asleep to see them, waking ready to face his day. It was like living with shizun all over again. Getting to be the last one he saw before sleeping, the first one to talk to him in the morning, on the mornings he actually spoke instead of stumbling about getting ready at least. He wondered how his god woke up, if he ever did.

Would he also stumble around like the world hadn’t fallen into place yet? Or would he be instantly awake soon as Binghe called his name? It seemed rude to ask such a prying questions, so he kept it in and they went on with life.

After their first meeting, him and Yue Qingyuan met alone to discuss what he’d proposed. They’d made actual progress over time as both attacks went down and Binghe gained more power over the demon realm. Though, he had given the responsibility of Huan Hua to Sha Hualing to look over, trying to control the disciples there and the demons in the demon realm as well as sleeping regularly was making life harder for him, he barely had time to deal with the treaty and now he had a few more minutes. It had nothing to do with the fact she’d begged for it and always made sure she was present when a certain disciple came to deliver news to her from Cang Qiong sect.

He didn’t worry about her betraying him, she’d proven herself useful and had more than once said she stuck around because he always had fun for her. If she didn’t like the position, she’d tell him and he’d probably assign someone else without much thought to it.

The fifth year after shizun’s death came up again and he spent the day negotiating with Yue Qingyuan before bowing at the others memorial. He spent the night silently sitting by his gods side, his head resting in the others lap as he braided and unbraided Binghe’s hair over and over again.

It was nice, the feeling of fingers running through his curly hair, of undoing the tangles that had formed, to have someone doing something like this again. Shizun used to do this for him, he’d sit Binghe down and grumble about his lack of care being put into it as though Binghe hadn’t carefully purposefully messed it up so his shizun would fix it. He hadn’t thought to do it for his god, merely turned often enough the tangles had formed despite his best attempts against it. When they’d started running their hands through Binghe’s hair months ago, they’d even huffed at the fact they couldn’t fully do it at first.

Binghe loved when they did this though, offering to touch him without thought, as though Binghe truly deserved all the kindness they offered. He shouldn’t have but he still found himself falling back into the habit of purposefully messing it up, if only for the other to notice. They didn’t always, but when they did…he loved it.

They hadn’t said much since he’d gotten there, something having settled on the others face all night Binghe didn’t understand. He clearly had something to say, and Binghe wouldn’t interrupt when he finally chose to say it. Finally, after his hair being thoroughly braided with no strand escaping the movement, the others hands rested limply on his head.

“You will be different when I wake up,” they said quietly as though it made any sense at all. Binghe got the feeling they weren’t done yet and decided to keep quiet, if not for that then to try and comprehend what they could’ve meant by it.

“I don’t know I can look you in the eye then. If all goes well, we will not meet again. All goes…well. It will be better…yes.” He kept silent but moved his eyes up to look at them. How could they say that? How could they say that, knowing Binghe wants to see them, knowing how much they mean to him, knowing–

Did they know? Did he ever tell them about caring about them? Had he ever actually said it? They started to waver above him again and he nearly hit his head into theirs trying to sit up to face them, halfway undoing and messing up his braids along the way.

He needed to tell them, he needed them to know, that had to! Even if they didn’t understand or feel the same, he had to let them know.

He couldn’t do it for shizun, all he could do for him was tell it to his corpse before it too was taken from him. He had to tell them.

They were gone though, by the time he was up and able to say anything, they were gone and leaving him alone on his knees in the middle of their field of flowers for the first time in five years.

His eyes flew open before he could fully comprehend what was happening, panic grasping his heart as he shut his eyes again, sinking into dreams so quickly he knew instantly it was his own dreamscape he’d open his eyes to. Low and behold, he opened his eyes and there he was in the middle of Qing Jing’s training grounds.

A whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it, his feet managing to carry him two steps before he’d collapsed onto his knees. No no, he couldn’t have lost them to–it wasn’t fair! He couldn’t lose them to–no no, they wouldn’t have left without–without telling him. They just said it would be different–they only said once waking up they’d be different.

They’d–they’d woken up, did that mean they–did that mean Binghe could see them in life? He would–would they go back to only seeing each other sometimes on a few lucky nights? Would he ever see them again?

“Binghe?” A voice he knew well called out above him and he looked up to see shizun–no, not shizun. His memory of shizun. He was holding out a hand to Binghe, hovering above his shoulder without actually touching him. Without thinking, he’d launched himself off the ground and into the others arms, curling into the man’s chest like he did when he was smaller and sobbing. Arms circled around him a moment later and, despite knowing this wasn’t real, it only made him sob harder.

Chapter Text

His god was gone, did they leave him like shizun? Would they do that? No, maybe it wasn’t by their choice.

They’d sounded wrong when they’d spoken, sounded like this wasn’t what they wanted. Maybe he–maybe Binghe still had a chance. He just had to–to find them. He hoped he could, if not then what was he supposed to do? Was there even anyone to answer him anymore?

He didn’t immediately pull himself from his own dreamscape, despite knowing it wouldn’t help to be there. When he did, his first action was to make sure he had nothing major to do that day. Of course, he had several things lined up seeing as he’d taken the day before to be at shizun’s memorial and speak with Yue Qingyuan. They could be put off another day though, whether they liked it or not.

Soon as he exited his room and started towards where he knew Mobei-Jun would be, Sha Hualing spotted him. It seemed she’d needed something or another and he’d chosen the wrong moment to leave. Her voice was a very specific pitch that was both pleasant on the ears, and increasingly easy to tune out.

She was talking at him instead of with him again, a constant habit she’d made over the past few years, and one he quickly started to ignore, only ever catching snippets of what she’d been saying. It was rude and he would admit to that, but he also couldn’t take the sheer amount of information she had to share.

“And I’ll get some people gathered together for xin mo to absorb qi to. Where is your sword anyways, I haven’t seen it in a while.” She had to be joking, he hadn’t had the damn thing in five years, he told her about not having it several times. Did she too learn the habit of tuning him out in return? It was quite possible, he’d been told he talked a lot before. Not in recent years, but he had been told it.

“Hidden,” he simply grumbled out, trying once more to focus on his work.

“Ah, you’re so funny my lord, anyways–“

When would he next see his god? The way they’d spoken, it’s like they weren’t expecting to ever see him again. He had to see them again though, he didn’t get the chance to tell shizun, it had been too late, there was too much there to undo in the time they had, he couldn’t do it. His god, they were different, but so much the same too. He had to tell them. She left him soon after and he got a few peaceful hours of pacing and panicking before Shang Qinghua appeared in her stead.

“My lord, are you going to Qing Ding again?”

“Why?” He said without thinking. He’d become very good at answering peoples questions while thinking about something else entirely, a hidden skill he’d only discovered he had when he stopped listening to people talking to him.

“Ah, sect leader said it was something with the south border.” Halfway to screaming at something, he grit his teeth instead and nodded. Of course they couldn’t figure things out on their own, of course Binghe had to fix everything. He would go himself to solve whatever it was, and hopefully he would find something to beat when he got there.

“Fine. Where’s Mobei.”

“My king? He’s in the south corridor, but there’s something I need to tell you–“ he was already gone by the time the other had started speaking, not catching the end of it and already nearing Mobei’s location. If he did this quickly, he could get to searching and have nothing else to worry about, along with some aggressions worked out.

Soon as Mobei saw him, the portal was opened and Binghe was stepping through onto the base of the mountain, Mobei by his side. Staring up the side of it, he sighed inwardly. He was already in a rush, why did he have to do these stairs every stupid time. Sure, a few times they’d come to him in Huan Hua but usually he was stuck doing this stupid trek.

Angrily, he stomped up the steps until he reached the top, Mobei staying a safe distance behind him and leaving him soon as he walked through the door. Yue Qingyuan looked up as he entered, the normal polite smile dipping when he saw Binghe.

“Have I interrupted something?” If he had to start with that, yeah, he did. Still, Binghe was doing this for a reason, he wasn’t about to blow it because of some frustration. That was him five years ago, he was better than that, he didn’t have that damn sword.

“No. I’ve been informed there was a problem with the south border?” He nodded and cleared his throat, standing to walk towards Binghe as he spoke.

“It seems a few hours ago a demon has caught some of my disciples as well as a few other sects and is holding them, as well as a few of the locals in the area, as hostages.” Who was stupid enough to be doing that? Especially there. The south was Sha Hualing’s territory and she wasn’t known for being kind on her punishments. There was no way she would have missed it and–all at once the others words caught up to him hours later than they were said and he paused the snarky comment he was about to make.

“Oh,” he said intelligently, for once loosing the look of a demon lord and taking on the look of someone who messed up greatly. Yue Qingyuan nearly startled at the look, for the first time since meeting the other understanding Shen Qingqiu’s response to him.

“This one knows what sect leader is referring to,” he admitted, raising his hand to message at his temples. He could feel as a headache started to form behind his eyes.

“You do?”

“It seems,” he sighed, “There was a clear line of misunderstanding between a subordinate and I. She’s new.” She was not in fact new, but Binghe couldn’t just say that now could he?

“It’s not malicious and shall be taken care of immediately.”

“Lord Luo’s certain it was not malicious?” The pounding behind his eyes pulsed at the words and he worked to not cuss him out. Of course he was sure, Sha Hualing was just like that. If he were to say this specific action was out of malice he’d be wrong, if only because no action she took was ever not out of malice.

“This one is very certain. If it pleases sect leader Yue to know, this one will be on his way personally to fix it, if only you’ll excuse me.” The other didn’t look fully convinced but nodded nonetheless. Binghe returned the movement before fliping his sleeve and walking back the way he’d come. As he was about to exit, he suddenly stopped and turned back.

“And this one requests to have easier pathway access. Urgent news shouldn’t wait because of a stairway.”

“Doesn’t lord Luo use his sword?” The other countered, confusion clear on his face. Binghe couldn’t help the snort that escaped his mouth at the words, feeling the lack of weight against his side more prominently than ever.

“No, he does not,” he said simply before leaving back out the door and seeing Mobei.

“Get us wherever you dropped off Hualing,” he demanded as they slipped back down the stairs, exiting the peaks right into a barely lit area with cages full of people in a cave somewhere. He could see several bodies inside them, a few with robes he recognized as belonging to certain sects, and even a few from Cang Qiong mountains. Sighing, he shook his head and went to leave when Sha Hualing came in.

“My lord,” she cried happily at seeing him there, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Silently, he watched her happily saunter over to him until she spotted Mobei and her smile turned into confusion and a frown.

“My lord?”

“Sha Hualing, have you once seen me with a sword in five years,” he said calmly to her, barely resisting the urge to strangle the life right out of her. It wouldn’t do any good, he had to keep reminding himself it wouldn’t do any good. She wouldn’t learn that way, she was more of a masochist than even him. She opened her mouth to respond before her eyes flickered down to his side and she froze.

“No, m–my lord,” she answered just as quietly, her charms and bells starting to clack against each other and ring out as she shook, staring at where he used to hang his sword.

“Do you have any idea what you have threatened by doing this? The consequences to this action? You’ll grapple at Yue Qingyuan’s feet for forgiveness, do you understand that? Do you? All we’ve worked for, your territory, anything you have, it could’ve been lost so easily. Do you understand?” Silently, she lowered her head.

“Out loud,” he commanded and she audibly gulped.

“Yes, my lord, I’ll…I’ll apologize to Yue Qingyuan myself.”

“You’ll need to do more than that Hualing. Huan Hua will be handed over to Mobei-Jun for the time.” Her head snapped up.

“M–my lord–“

“As will your territory in the northern demon realm. Until you’ve proved you can do anything right, you’ll work under Shang Qinghua.”

“Not Qinghua–“

“Did I say you could speak.” She shut up immediately, curling in on herself and saying nothing more. Silently he looked over to the cages and caught the eye of Liu Mingyan, nearly wincing when she stared at him. She actually grabbed her as well? Of all people? He really hoped this didn’t go into any more of her books, Regret of Chungshan was already bad enough, and he didn’t want to know why she went along with Sha Hualing’s plans on this right now.

“Let them all out,” he said loud enough for the others to hear and understand, looking away and back at her.

“Personally,” he continued when he saw her eye her own subordinates. He turned to leave when a body suddenly fell from a ledge above him. Binghe watched until the boy hit the ground and landed on his knees, raising an eyebrow silently as the kid tried to get back up and failed like an idiot. Still, his robes were clearly that of Bai Zhan peak, which meant this must’ve been the meatheads kid.

“You can help her undo the cages,” he said to them, then turned and went to leave, making it as far as getting outside before leaning against the stone and dragging a hand down his face.

Night would come soon, but what did it matter anymore, it’s not like he would sleep and see his god. He only had his waking hours to search, which meant trying to add it into everything he already had going on. He couldn’t punish Sha Hualing for long, as painful as this was about to be for him with Yue Qingyuan, she was one of the only subordinates he could actually count on. Most times.

A few weeks with Shang Qinghua should work, he couldn’t push all that on Mobei though, he’d probably have to take over for him under the pretense of Mobei being in charge. Great. More work. One night of peace would really be too much to ask.

Binghe didn’t wait for either Sha Hualing nor Mobei-Jun to finish, leaving and walking away before they’d finished the first round of cleanup. Along the way he thought back to the kid falling from the ceiling. Someone trained under Liu Qingge like he was shouldn’t have slipped so easily. Loath as he was to admit, the man had talent in at least staying standing, he couldn’t imagine the idiot choosing such a bumbling mess, which left one possibly. Someone else was helping him and they’d thrown him down there to see how he reacted to it.

Why though. It wasn’t like it would matter much in the end of it whether someone was watching or not and they could’ve come out too for all he cared anymore. It just meant one more person she had to apologize to. One more insufferable presence he’d have to deal with.

Next time he looked up he was at the border town looking at an inn, it’s light flooding out from inside, warmth seeping out around the nearly open doorway. Without thinking, he slipped into the area and regretted not bringing any kind of cloak. Most people tended to stare at the guy with the red mark on his forehead, and his way of dressing certainly didn’t make him seem like someone who wasn’t in a position of power. Usually he wouldn’t mind the stares, in fact he’d bask in them, but tonight he wanted to eat and sleep. Seeing as sleeping would do nothing but make him cry, eating it was.

The waitress was on him soon as he sat down, happily smiling at him and obviously staring a little too hard at his face like it was anything impressive. He let her stare all she wanted, it wasn’t hurting anyone and if she tried anything he’d just rip her head off. It’s not like anyone would find the body. The service was amazing though, they managed to get his food out increasingly quickly, though that might’ve just been because it was nearly only him in the inn currently.

Soon as the plate was set down in front of him, several more bodies walked in, most of which he recognized as those held by Sha Hualing, a few he suspected to be locals here for dinner, and a group of three who were a little too loud for his taste.

Whatever, it wouldn’t matter if they were here, he would just focus on his food. Only problem was, they were increasingly loud, the ones from this town at least. Talking about this and that and–

Did he just say that. Binghe’s head nearly snapped up from where he’d carefully tucked it over his food, halfway to punching the man for mentioning that damned book, or at least the rumors that came from it’s existence. He thanked whatever god it was shizun never had to hear about the thing, whether his god or another, he couldn’t imagine how pissed the man would be if he’d heard of it.

Binghe had unfortunately known about it since it had come out, and had easily connected exactly who wrote it. He couldn’t do anything about it of course, he hadn’t seen Liu Mingyan since before the abyss and tonight, it was always Sha Hualing who welcomed her to Huan Hua. Speaking of the Cang Qiong sect disciple, he could see her sitting at a table with the Bai Zhan kid and someone else in plain robes with their back to him.

Had he seen them in the cave too? Could his eyes have possibly skipped right off them onto someone else? He couldn’t see their face from where he was, only the shoulder length black hair tied halfway up on their head and a fan swinging at their face. He watched them watch the table of loud talkers, none of them saying a word as they did what looked like exactly what he was doing.

“They were together day and night with genuine emotions born in secret.” What’d he say? He quickly tuned back in on the table without removing his eyes from the table of three of whom two thirds of the occupants spat out their tea. Liu Mingyan was the only one who didn’t spit her tea out, her hand instead shaking so hard she spilled it across the table. Why was she reacting this way, she was the one who wrote the damn story!

He could understand the other two’s reactions though, clenching his fist to keep it from going through the table. Of course there was nothing between him and shizun! The man was too good for Binghe as was, no way would he ever do something of that sort with him. He’d only come here for a few minutes of peace, was that really too much to ask? Was it? He didn’t think it would be but here they were. They wouldn’t stop telling the story no matter how much he internally told them to, hoping even one of them would look his way and see his eyes flashing at their tale.

He usually would let it go, he was trying to build relations damnit, but they were really and truly pissing him off. He would’ve acted long ago, but interestingly enough, he wanted to see how it played out with the third member of their little trio. The one who’s back was turned to him was odd to watch, therefore serving as Binghe’s entertainment throughout the thing.

Anytime a point he knew was wrong would come up, the other would react, such as slapping his own forehead, messing up his hair, he even tried to interrupt with an order only to be almost shushed by the man telling the tale telling the waitress to put it on his tab before going on with the false story. When he started to mention when shizun self destructed, that’s when Binghe’s patience wore thin. Even if the other man had been entertaining to watch until then, he didn’t want to hear any more.

“–with no other way out he self–“

A loud bang interrupted, all eyes dragging over to him and where he’d pounded his fist against the table. It was close to breaking, he’d have to pay the owner before leaving. Slowly, he turned his head and gave them all plenty of time to recognize him and glance up at his forehead for confirmation before they realized what they’d done and he spoke.

“Silence,” he said carefully slowly, not loud and not quiet, just enough he could feel their fear raise in levels. The table who were gossiping all sprung to their feet at once, jumping back and running out the door in a hurry without paying for their meals nor the other threes as promised.

Eye twitching, he watched until they left before returning his eyes to his table. It had started to crack beneath his plate so he picked it up and the table fell apart, clattering with a thump onto the ground by his feet. Standing, he walked over to the waitress and handed her the plate still full of food and enough money to cover his food and the people who ran, as well as everyone else in the room and the poor table. Then, he turned and walked over to the table housing Liu Mingyan.

“You’ve made my life harder,” he said simply to her, receiving her raising her head and blinking calmly at him. The other two sitting there had varying degrees of reactions, the Bai Zhan kid staring at him with an open mouth like he believed a word those men had said. The other whom Binghe was beginning to believe was the one who kicked the kid into the cave kept his head bent low, staring hard at the table.

“How so, lord Luo, was it not your subordinate to kidnap me?” Scoffing, he rolled his eyes.

“Playing coy, eh? Fine, keep your secrets. Your tables paid for,” he nearly spit out before turning and walking right out the door again, stomach as empty as when he’d walked in there. All the better anyways, he’d probably hate the food anyways.

He had to try and find Mobei now, otherwise it was going to be a long walk back and he wasn’t particularly looking forwards to that. He figured them to still be in the cave waiting or cleaning up or whatever it is she might’ve needed to do still in what Binghe liked referring to as her punishment cave if only because that meant he only thought about that while being in there, absolutely ignoring the candles unlit on the walls. It didn’t matter in the long run when he got back though, they wouldn’t return without him.

He didn’t get very far along the road before he couldn’t help but sink down onto the ground and stare at the dirt. It had…it had been a long day. Tomorrow he had to try and clean it all up again, try and fix the absolute mess that he’d been left with and try to figure out exactly what was going on with this stupid border. All the other areas were doing fine, and before today, this one was too.

What could have possibly changed to have everything turning crazy. The only thing he could think of was…was his god waking up once more. Did that mean they were near? Could that even be possible?

He heard footsteps and carefully picked himself up off the ground and turned to look where they were coming from, raising his head proudly. Who was going this way at this time of night? Why would–his eyes settled on their figure, recognizing the robes as the man from the restaurant but recognizing the face for an entirely different reason.

Wh–what was this? He hadn’t noticed Binghe yet, eyes glancing behind him at what he couldn’t imagine, all he could see what their face. It was–they were here, but they weren’t. Something was different, that something being the fact they looked like shizun as well.

Ho–how? Shizun was–he died. He died due to Binghe. And his–his god was not shizun, his god looked nothing like shizun but, but sometimes he did act like shizun.

No, it–it didn’t make any sense, how could his god be here? How could his shizun be here? In the same body? Suddenly Binghe noticed the way his eyes were glaring off at nothing again, the one tick he knew shizun had.

Was it nothing though? Or was it…was it Binghe’s god? The timing between their meeting, when his god had apparently died, when he woke up, the way he reacted to Binghe, him knowing Binghe for so long it–it was shizun, and it was his god, standing in front of Binghe and not yet realizing he was there.

What did he say? Did he say anything? Could he say anything? His mouth opened and closed, his two feet carrying him forwards a step, then two, then three and suddenly he stood in the others pathway and finally, he found his voice.

“Shi…zun?” He called, voice not nearly loud enough for a normal person to hear. Shizun was no normal person though, and nor was his god. Their eyes snapped over to him and their movements froze, mouth falling open as he stared at Binghe. That’s why they acted like that at the restaurant, why they kicked down the Bai Zhan kid instead of coming out themselves, but he’d told his god everything, why would he–why would they not tell shizun? Did they tell shizun? Did they tell shizun and he still didn’t care?

No, no he said he’d repaid Binghe, for everything, he couldn’t have hated Binghe. So then, why? Why was he looking at him like that? He couldn’t even bring himself to step closer, maintaining their distance with neither of them moving an inch to fix it.

“Is it…really shizun?” His knees felt weak, were his knees supposed to feel weak? No, probably not, he was a demon lord, not some girl with a crush–well, no, he was some guy with two crushes, both of which were apparently on the same man. Person? Being?

“Shizun?” Shizun said nothing and nor did his god, still staring at Binghe like he would try to kill him. Did he think Binghe would try to kill him? What did he have to do to make the other believe he wouldn’t? He couldn’t think of anything. Come on Binghe–think!

Shizun once more glanced off to the side and he suddenly got an idea. The other had opened his mouth but Binghe accidentally interrupted, wanting to slap himself the second he did.

“Is Binghe’s god with you?” The others mouth shut with a click, his eyes falling back on Binghe with a furrowed brow.

“Binghe’s…god?” Humming, he nodded jerkily, a pop coming from his neck as he did so. How did he do this, could he explain it? Could he–oh, right.

“They look like shizun, but with white hair, and shorter,” the more he said the more the others eyes widened as his mouth fell open. Shizun must’ve known them, that’s the only reason he would react like that. That’s means his god could tell shizun he meant no harm, it meant shizun would be okay with him coming closer, right?

“That–no, that wasn’t real,” the other muttered. The only reason Binghe could hear it was because of his exceptional hearing. Taking a gamble, Binghe carefully took a small step forwards.

“This Binghe is sorry, he didn’t mean to insult shizun nor his god, he merely didn’t know it was–it’s you.” Shizun—his god?—didn’t move when Binghe moved closer, but he didn’t want to overstep and stayed where he was.

“Binghe knows about…”

“About shizun’s god, yes.”

“You know of the sy–“ he cut himself off with a hiss, reaching up to rub at his forehead. Binghe took another large step towards him before freezing. He didn’t want to freak him out, he couldn’t lose them both after finding them again. He still remembered the way shizun had shrank away from his touch before, but he also knew how his god accepted it happily, even instigated it.

“If not that them what are y…is Binghe saying…th–the one with white hair, is that who Binghe calls a god?” Humming, he nodded nervously. Did they not want him to call them that? Would they prefer something else? They never told Binghe their name, and he didn’t want to push for it incase it made them uncomfortable.

“Binghe, that’s me–“ he cut himself off again with a hiss, tightening his hold on his head. Was something preventing shizun from telling him about what was going on? Was there something else with shizun besides his god? Bitting on his lip, he stepped fully in front of shizun, mumbling a quiet apology as he did so. He couldn’t even hear Binghe through clutching at his own head.

His hands shook as he raised them up to the others forehead, his cold fingers touching against the others warm face. Surprise filtered across the others eyes and he apologized again before carefully sinking them both into a dream. He blinked and opened his eyes to the field of flowers, his god across from him in the exact position shizun had been but blinking his eyes widely at him. Binghe couldn’t help but notice he still wore the clothes he’d been wearing outside for the first time, his god with the same predicament. Even with the plain old robes he wore though, Binghe’s god still looked ethereal.

Their pain seemed to have faded for the moment though as they blinked their dark eyes open to look up at Binghe, mouth hanging open slightly. How had he missed it? How could he be so blind, of course his god and shizun at least knew each other. There was still something missing though, he knew it.

“You’re safe,” he muttered, “Meng Mo is watching out for us right now, he’ll alert me if anything comes near.” He’d never been so thankful before he hadn’t expelled the demon, finally his presence coming in handy.

“This was…real?” His god—shizun?—muttered, looking around at the flowers. “I thought Binghe was just something I made up.” Ouch. Could he really be summed up to an imaginative figure so easily? Actually yeah, he probably could, and most likely not the kind sort of imaginary figure either.

“Why’re we here?”

“This disciple noticed something hurting…I brought us here.” Was he talking to shizun? His god? He didn’t know anymore, and they weren’t giving him anything to work with anymore, staring up at him as if just noticing he was there.

“Binghe is real, correct?”

“As real as…” he was going to say shizun, was he allowed to say shizun? Even if it was his shizun, could he even still call him that?

“Why not say my name then?”

“This one…this one no longer knows what to call…you…?” That was too informal, he should have figured something out, a term of some kind, anything but whatever that was. Was he always this stupid or was this a recent development?

“My…name? You know my name Binghe.”

“This one…this one doesn’t think he does anymore.” They frowned at that, glancing down at Binghe’s chest before looking back up.

“I don’t look right do I?” They asked, referring to themselves as his god always did.

“You look like Binghe’s god,” he said, nodding to his own words. A small smile flashed across the others face.

“I am no god Binghe.”

“You’re my god.” The others mouth clicked shut at that, the movement making a small clicking noise. It took a few moments before the other cleared their throat and glanced away.

“The system must not work in here. I’ve said things that would get me called out and…” he paused, looking back at Binghe. “It only started back up when I woke up.”

“Forgive this one for asking but, what is a system?”

“It’s…” he winced, eyes growing distant.

“If you’d rather, this one has another question he’d like to ask.”

“Go on.”

“Is…were you always shizun?” They looked back at him, eyes focusing into a wince.

“That’s a long question.”

“Has shizun and this form always existed together?”

“I am this form, this is me. Shen Qingqui would be the one I was…inhabiting.” Suddenly, like the sun was finally shining down on him, all the puzzle pieces sank into place.

“Shizun…came to this world from somewhere else?” Shizun blinked up at him, eyes wide before nodding slightly against Binghe’s hands.

“Binghe’s so smart,” he said genuinely, something like pride seeping into his voice.

“This one still has another question.”

“Hmm?”

“The system?”

“Oh. The thing that brought me here.”

“And it hurts shizun?”

“Only when I try to tell someone about it.”

“Can Binghe help?”

“This…no, probably not.”

“Is shizun sure?” The other nodded again, scoffing lightly when his face was constricted by Binghe’s hands.

“One question I have for you though.”

“Anything,” he replied, again wondering a second later if he should stop doing that when shizun gave him a sly look.

“Who’s the girl?” Girl?

“Girl?”

“Binghe mentioned loving a girl, who is she?” He blanked, mind doing nothing but collecting dust. He’d never told shizun about loving a woman, and he certainly didn’t tell his god about loving one either. Except–

Except he kinda did. Face burning, he nearly pulled his hands back when he took a half step back, only keeping the contact out of fear it would wake them.

“N–no one. This one doesn’t–I love no one.”

“Binghe. Who is it?” No, crap, they–he–shizun wasn’t supposed to learn this way. Binghe wanted to tell them on his own terms not–ugh. Shizun was looking so expectant though, smiling softly at Binghe like he always did.

“This one would like to keep that private,” he gasped out, halfway to slapping himself for lying to the other. Shizun didn’t seem to mind though, sighing and waving his hand around, jostling Binghe’s arms slightly with the movement.

“Fine fine. So you were serious then, when you told me about the treaty between realms? I thought my mind was just trying to be nice.”

“No, this one didn’t want anything like what happened to shizun to happen to anyone else.”

“My Binghe is so kind.” His Binghe. Kind. Yeah right, he just wanted to make sure his god was coming back into a good world. He was though, Binghe’s work had…it paid off. Shizun had liked the idea so much he thought his own mind made it up! Binghe did good! The thought shouldn’t make him feel like crying as much as it did.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking down at the ground. “I made shizun self–destruct and–“

“And I pushed Binghe into the abyss.” His head snapped up to look at the other who was frowning at him.

“It was this one’s fault, I knew you hated demons and I–“

“I don’t, Binghe. Hate demons. I told you that, albeit a while ago.”

“B–but you said–“

“It was stupid,” he muttered, seemingly unable to hear Binghe as he looked at the ground, frown still in place on the face Binghe swore to never make frown again.

“You or me. This master knew Binghe would live but this one still–I still pushed you in, and told you all those things. You once asked me if I regretted it, and I did. I–“

“So this one was correct in my god knowing I would survive?” He breathed out, watching the others eyes flick up and in doing so send a streak of tears down his face. No, no, his god, his shizun, they shouldn’t cry, they should never have to cry.

“What does Binghe mean?”

“It was this one’s ongoing theory my god knew I could survive the abyss.”

“You can stop calling me your god,” the other muttered, sounding almost embarrassed as his eyes flickered down.

“This one–I still don’t know any other name for you.” Their eyes popped back up to look at Binghe, blinking up at him sweetly.

“I–it’s Yuan. Shen Yuan.” He knew his name. Binghe knew his gods name. Shen Yuan’s name!

“Binghe are you okay?” Did anyone else know? No, Shen Yuan had said the system didn’t let him say anything. It was Binghe who got to learn it then, Binghe!

“Hello?” Oh crap he was talking to him. He got too caught up in it, he needed to come back to himself. Nodding jerkily, he smiled brightly at Shen Yuan.

“Binghe, I–I still chose to throw you into the abyss.” Yeah, but he knew Binghe would survive, helped him want to survive by still being there. His god, Shen Yuan was the whole reason Binghe was still alive.

“This one forgives Shen Yuan.” He said happily, not even thinking of anything else.

“Shen Yuan helped this one survive the abyss as well. If not for his god, Binghe wouldn’t be here.”

“Binghe,” the other started, pausing before going on. “You didn’t have anything to do with the sowers in jinlin city, did you.” Blinking, he shook his head before the words could fully catch up to him, then shook his head harder.

“No, this one still doesn’t know who had them go there.”

“Hmm. The sowers only act on humans in groups after being told to. Who did that then?”

“I’ve never found them,” he said sadly, his foot picking up and stubbing back into the flowers again, careful not to jostle his hands against the others face.

“Shen Yuan?” He said without thinking, remembering he shouldn’t be referring to them so informally after it had already come out. It didn’t seem to anger them as he feared, but he should have known better than to think such a simple thing would anger his god.

“Yeah?”

“Why did you self destruct?”

“I…thought it would be best. I thought you’d be angrier at me, like in the original.” The original? Original what? Did he mean Shen Qingqui before Shen Yuan took his place? Why would he–no, it didn’t add up. Again the puzzle pieces filtered in and out of place, shifting with every thought.

“How did shizun know I would survive the abyss?”

“I–“ again, he cut himself off, sighing as he shook his head and nearly threw Binghe’s hands off him. “Never thought I’d have to explain this to anyone so bear with me. You know I don’t come from here? Well, where I’m from, Binghe and this whole world was a–a book.”

“One Shen Yuan read?”

“And hated, by the way. The writing was terrible, plots ever worse. The only reason I stuck around to read the whole thing was because I loved the main character.” Oh. Who was the main character?

“Main…character?” Please don’t be Liu Qingge, please, not him, not him.

“Hmm, Luo Binghe.” Oh.

“Oh.” Did he mean it? Binghe had heard him say he loved other characters in the books he’d read before though, all that time in the bamboo house and he could recognize that at least. Besides, was Binghe ever more than a book character to him? Binghe knew he was a living breathing being, that wasn’t anything anyone could deny, but was he nothing more than a name on a page to the other?

“So shizun is in a book.” His brows twitched at the use of shizun but he didn’t comment on it.

“No, I’m in this world and it’s mine just as it’s yours. It’s just I wasn’t born here.” Oh, he’d been an ass. But he still had to know, it would nag at him if he didn’t at least ask.

“When did–when did Shen Yuan come here?”

“Hmm, does Binghe remember when Shen Qingqui went through that qi deviation when you were…fourteen?” Of course he remembers that, it’s the time of his life when shizun started to be good and care, when he gave medicine and let him ride in his carriage and–oh.

“Then it was…Shen Yuan who woke up?”

“Hmm. Couldn’t act like myself right away, system kept saying if I was out of character it’d dock me points, ah.”

“Does dock points mean…death?”

“The removal of my conscious from this world, hmm.” He’d kill it. He would kill it. Maybe not yet, but mark his words Binghe would be the one to kill it.

“I see.”

“You’ve got that murderous look again.” It was a phrase he’d grown used to hearing from his god, not something he expected to hear but he figured it most likely applied to how he currently looked.

“Just planning for dealing with this system,” he said brightly, changing his look into a smile.

“….That’s scarier…” he dropped the smile.

“Does…does Shen Yuan wish to go back to Cang Qiong?”

“I…I don’t know. I want to, but I don’t know how well it will go over as I am.” Opening his mouth, he went to ask if there was anyone who could vouch besides Binghe when a face came to mind.

“Shang Qinghua knew,” he stated, watching the other face go from surprised to annoyed.

“That idiot tattled?!”

“No, he’d said something earlier this one didn’t have time to question before having to take care of business.” No need to mention how Binghe hadn’t actually remembered about the man’s existence until now. He could just recognize his god and shizun, no matter the form he took.

“Oh.”

“Could he vouch for Shen Yuan?”

“No, but he could vouch for Shen Qingqui.” Smiling, he nodded and stepped closer.

“Then I’ll have Mobei take you, we’ll pick him up on the way and get Shen Yuan home.”

“Binghe,” the other started but Binghe had already pulled his hands free from the others forehead and pulled them out. When he blinked his eyes open, it was dark around them and they were back on the road with nothing but dirt and crickets around them. Next to him, Shen Yuan was blinking against the darkness as though it were necessary before sighing.

Chapter Text

“Suppose we should go.” Humming, he nodded to nothing and started towards the cave he’d left them, careful to slow his speed for the other as they went. When he got there, it was to Sha Hualing yelling at Mobei who was refusing to say a word back. Calling their attention, he explained in the shortest possible way what would be happening before having Mobei bring them to Shang Qinghua.

Soon as the man saw Shen Yuan, he started sobbing and threw himself at him, only to get hit in the face with a fan Binghe was only just remembering was on the others waist.

“Quit your crying!”

“Cucumber-bro, don’t be so mean!” Ah, Shen Yuan hadn’t said anything about it, but now that he thought about it, the man probably not just knew about and helped with shizun’s plan, but with the name he calls Shen Yuan, he must’ve had one of those system things as well. Another person who read a book about him? He’d have to inform Mobei so he could take care of it later. He tolerated the man enough for that, the rest though, that was not his job to deal with.

“Come along,” he called, the portal already open. Shang Qinghua looked over as he released his god, straightening up with a questioning noise.

“Where’re we going?”

“Cang Qiong,” he said simply as Shen Yuan stepped through, following close after and trusting Mobei would lead them through all the same. He’d love to say he remembered the walk up the stairs, would’ve loved to claim he was totally prepared for what happened. Unfortunately that would have been a total and complete lie.

They got there, he caught Yue Qingyuan on his walk home, he was unhappy to see Binghe, somewhat less unhappy to see Shang Qinghua, shocked out of his mind and ecstatic to see Shen Yuan. Binghe knew the moment they should be leaving, it was right after Yue Qingyuan started to try and herd his god away from him, Shang Qinghua whispering something to Mobei before darting after them.

He stood there for only a few second, watching them walk away and out of his sight when Shen yuan suddenly looked over his shoulder at Binghe and mouthed something. He couldn’t tell what it was, though he hoped it was the word Binghe.

It didn’t matter, he turned back around to keep moving and Binghe turned away as well, walking back down the mountain with Mobei by his side. Judging by the man’s calm, Shang Qinghua had told him when to pick him up. Also judging by the clenched hand behind his back, he was about as happy about this as Binghe was about the whole thing. Still, they stepped back through that portal into his castle in the demon realm.

“No, we’ll be at Huan Hua for a while,” he said, receiving a nod and another portal a moment later.

He never did choose a different room there, never once did he actually go searching for one, instead bearing the room he’d kept shizun’s other body and never sleeping there. He still didn’t, sinking down into his spot where he worked, nothing he’d been working on previously in sight yet, leaving him to stare at the board beneath him with the venomous urge to break it. Instead, he sank further down and hit his head into it, hard enough to leave a red spot, but not hard enough to bruise. Squeezing his eyes shut, he grit his teeth to nothing. Stupid stupid stupid! Why would he let him go like that! His shizun, his god, his Shen Yuan, and he’d just–

He let Shen Yuan live his life. It wasn’t Binghe’s job to keep them in check, he couldn’t lock them up or they’d resent him. He could…he could keep attending the meetings with Yue Qingyuan and pray to–well no his god was the one he was hoping to see, what if he could actually hear Binghe’s prayers for this? Despite his insistence he was not in fact a god, Binghe still thought it made more sense than not.

He’d have to instead hope one of these times he’d run into him. Any chance he could get would be worth it really, as long as he still got to see them, he could be fine.

He opened his eyes again, expecting the board underneath him to meet his gaze. That’s not what it was though, instead it was to the familiar sight of the pathway. Nothing had changed since last time he was here, bamboo trees still swaying in the breeze, pathways still open for his traveling. Soon as he realized where he was, Binghe took off, running fast as he could to the field and making it there within seconds, only to find it empty. Right.

He forgot it had happened, but there had been a time or two that Shen Yuan hadn’t been here. Letting out the breath he’d been unknowingly holding, he felt his shoulders fall from around his ears. He was back in his normal flower field outfit this time, it swirling around his legs as he stopped, fabric brushing against his arms. It made sense, it wasn’t forced this time, so the realm would naturally return to it’s normal appearance.

No matter what his god might’ve said, this was his realm, it was made from his shizun’s appearance in this world. It could only mean him being a god. Not just any god though, he was Binghe’s god.

Lips trembling, he stared at the ground as his fist curled up and relaxed again. It must be different now that he’d woken up again. That’s the only thing that made sense. Even if that wasn’t it, the other would probably be up for a while longer talking to his sects people. He wouldn’t want to talk to Binghe, not when he had his family to talk with. Why would he though, when he could be happy instead with–

“Binghe?” Turning sharply, he whirled around to see the other standing a few feet away from him, looking as surprised to see him as Binghe.

“What’re you–Shen Yuan is already asleep? What about his sect?” The other shrugged, walking closer to Binghe.

“I’ll deal with them all tomorrow, I haven’t slept since last time we were here.”

“That wasn’t good sleep.”

“Exactly.”

“Is…is Shen Yuan sure he’s alright?”

“Hmm, very. Though, I missed Binghe.” Piercing his lips, Binghe looked between the others eyes for any sign of a lie. He found none and his feet moved on their own to carry him over to the other and tuck him against his front, folding his face into the others shoulder. A low snort reached his ears as the others hands patted his back.

“Such a crybaby.” He could be offended by that, but seeing as he was right, why would he bother. Instead of saying anything in response, he held the other tighter against him as Shen Yuan stopped patting his back and hugged him back as harshly as he was.

Was he crazy? For thinking there was possibly anything there? For possibly thinking Shen Yuan could feel the same as him? Was that even possible? A man full of so much kindness, loving Binghe the way Binghe loved him, all of him?

“I’m sorry I gave them your other body,” he muttered into the others shoulder.

“Why?” He heard muttered back.

“Because they incinerated it.”

“Oh Binghe. I’m perfectly fine as I am, happier like this even, I’ve got better spiritual powers this way, better batteries. Besides, sect leaders fine with me looking like this, so it’s fine.”

“Oh.” He still didn’t pull back, simply settling for hearing the others muttered voice into his shoddier. He’d be okay only hearing that for the rest of his life if he could just stay hugging Binghe like this.

“Binghe?” He hummed. “Where’s xin mo?”

“Hidden.”

“Hidden? Hidden?!” The other shouted, pulling back. Binghe pulled back as well, if only so the other could be more comfortable when he clutched at Binghe’s shoulders.

“How long have you not had it–when was the last time I saw you with it? Ah, it’s been years now.” Frowning, he reached up gently and grabbed the others hands from his shoulder, tugging them down to hold between them.

“I got rid of it after you self destructed. I couldn’t keep something that caused that.”

“Where is it?”

“Somewhere no one will find it.” It was true, after everything, he’d thrown the thing into an underground lake with a giant turtle. If someone actually managed to grab the thing, they’d have bigger issues than just that.

“Then…then Binghe managed to do everything he did, without xin mo?” Nodding, he felt the others hands go tense in his own before pulling free of his. He let go soon as he did, fearing he’d hurt the other if he held on. Then, Shen Yuan reached out and cupped his face, looking between both of his eye and his brain short circuited.

“Binghe, that’s…incredible. All on your own, without the golden finger, you did all that?” What the hell was a golden finger? He…he didn’t want to know, did he? Either way, he still nodded.

“I don’t need a loud sword screaming at me while doing my work.”

“No. You don’t,” he muttered, staring at Binghe again.

“Was Shen Yuan worried for this Binghe?” Really, the fact he could still speak some days amazed him. You’d think the sheer stupid would’ve worked it’s way out by now but no. Clearly not.

“This masters always worried for Binghe.” Oh. Oh. He was. He was worried. About Binghe. Of all people, he was worried about him. He couldn’t help but smile, bringing his hands back up to trap Shen Yuan’s hands against his face.

“Shen Yuan needn’t worry for this disciple, he will be alright as long as this one is still able to see Shen Yuan!” The other sputtered before pulling back at hand to tap him on the head like it could hurt him.

“Don’t get cocky.” Too late for that, long too late in fact. Probably ten years too late by now. He knew he was going to wake up soon by the waver of his own form and the other dropped his false annoyed look.

“Be good, hmm?”

“Only if shizun does the same.”

“Of course. I’ll see Binghe tomorrow.”

“Goodnight Shen Yuan.”

“Goodnight Binghe.” Blinking, he lifted his head off the board and stared at the wall across from him. He still got to see him, he still got to see Shen Yuan, he still got to see his god every night. It took his eyes blurring to realize he was crying, it took reaching up to touch his face to find out he was smiling, but it only took a moment to realize how happy he was.

He still got to see shizun! Binghe! Shen Yuan got to see all he did, he got to live in a world Binghe tried so hard to make better, to fix for him, his god. He’d said Binghe was incredible! Him! He’d said Binghe! Was incredible! He could’ve kissed him right then and there and–he needed to figure out how to kiss.

He always knew he needed to figure it out eventually, but it had been a distant thing for the future when his god was awake again. Binghe had wasted his time, he had to try and figure this out. Shooting up, he left the room and walked briskly through the palace, passing several disciples who seemed surprised to see him there until he found Sha Hualing. She was currently pouting while looking out a window. Soon as he walked in, her head shot over to him.

“I’ll let you take control of the northern territory again if you teach me how to kiss.” Her mouth fell open the longer he spoke, her eyes widening before narrowing again.

“Apologizing to Yue Qingyuan?” He scoffed.

“Not a chance, you still have to do that, but you can have Huan Hua back.”

“Deal, come here.” Without thinking he walked forwards as she started to stand up and closed the distance fully. Without warning, he realized this might’ve been a mistake.

“Alright, try and kiss me first and we’ll fix it from there.”

“I don’t want to have my first kiss be you–“

“How do you expect to learn if we don’t actually kiss? Besides, this isn’t your first kiss this is your practice kiss, it’s different. Practice kisses don’t count, obviously.”

“That’s not how it works–“

“First kisses aren’t all there is to it. Besides, that’s not the one that really matters.” She wagged her eyebrows at him. If he weren’t so close to throwing her out a window he’d blush. Instead, he breathed out harshly through his nose before dodging forwards and barely pressing his lips to hers for half a second.

“Okay, that’s not a kiss that’s a peck.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted. Where would he have even learned this? In a book? She sighed and rolled her eyes, reaching up to grab both sides of his face, tugging him down.

“Alright, just try and copy what I do, got it?” She didn’t give him the chance to respond and pulled him forwards. Turns out, she was a terrible teacher. Anytime Binghe got it slightly wrong, she’d bite him. He learned how to do it pretty quickly after he realized why she did it, thankful when she’d nodded at him with her hands on her hips and leaning away from him.

“You’re good, you’ll get anyone with that.” Halfway to scraping his tongue out and regrowing it again, he glared at her.

“I’m questioning whether it was a good idea to let you have Huan Hua back.” She shrugged as she moved around him, her bells and jewelry clinking together as she did so.

“Too late now. Good luck with your shizun!” He’d ask how she knew if he wasn’t accurately aware of the fact she’d seen them together last night as well as just how much fun she had in the human realm. Frowning, he shook his head and left the room as well, swiping at his mouth over and over again until he was sure none of her lipstick had stained his lips, nor did her bitting him actually draw blood.

Halfway to gagging, he exited into the throne room and came face to face with Liu Qingge, his sword drawn and angrily glaring at nothing. Rolling his eyes, Binghe stepped into the room already having his mood soured.

“What do you want you–“

“Where is he?” He demanded, Binghe pausing his steps when the words hit him.

“Who?” Was he talking about Shen Yuan? Did the man not think to check his peak or had the idiot heard Binghe had been with him and jumped to conclusions?

“Shen Qingqui, where did you take him, you beast!” Oh, joy, he’d done exactly what Binghe thought he did. How fun…

“Shizun is on his peak where this one left him. This venerable one has not seen shizun since yesterday.” Not while awake at least. That didn’t seem to make the other any less angry as Binghe folded his hands behind his back.

“Liar, where did that snake of yours take him!”

“My wh–snake? I don’t have a snake?”

“Yes, your snake, he grabbed Shen Qingqui and ran. Now where is he!” Was he messing with him? He better pray to whatever god it is that saw fit to answer he was messing with Binghe.

“Shizun is gone?” He said quietly, his voice still managing to echo around the room.

“Where is he!”

“You–“ he breathed in harshly, unclasping his hands and stalking away, teeth gritted. He heard the other start to follow and whirled around.

“You had one fucking job and you couldn’t manage it! Now shizun’s gone again and I–“ cutting himself off with an angry grunt, he turned and walked back towards where he’d been going as the other still followed him.

“He’s not here.”

“For f–no. Damnit, lead with him being gone!” Again he cussed as he went further into the space, looking around for Mobei the entire time. He wouldn’t find him before needing to go, he needed to figure out where Shen Yuan was now, and he was sure there was only one way to do it. Unwillingly, he lead the man through the palace until they reached his room, at which time he spun around on the man and pointed at him.

“Stay here,” he commanded earning a disbelieving scoff in return.

“I don’t listen to–“

“Move an inch and Mobei will send you to the other side of the continent.” He shut up, leaving Binghe to turn and shut the door behind him, looking around the room for anything quick. He couldn’t fall asleep fast enough for this, it had to be immediate and–there. Someone had left a flower vase near his window, a heavy one too, and Binghe lifted it above his head before dropping it. It was heavy alright, knocking him out nearly as soon as it touched his head. It was fine, his blood would heal him soon enough.

Sucking in a breath, he peeled his eyes open and searched around him. He was next to the pathway again and he didn’t stop to think, charging into it and running again. He had to be here, please be here. If he wasn’t, Binghe didn’t know what else to do. Soon as his foot hit the flowers, he saw the other standing in the center, eyes training on Binghe soon as he entered the area.

“Bing–“ he crashed into the other before he could finish, cradling his head in one hand and holding his back with the other, crushing him against his chest. He didn’t give Shen Yuan the time to hug him back, pulling back after only a moment to look him over, sliding his hands onto his shoulder instead. No matter how hard he looked, Shen Yuan seemed alright.

“You’re alright,” he breathed out, panting from both the stress and the running. Shen Yuan nodded.

“Of course I’m–Binghe, what’s going on?”

“Liu Qingge showed up and said you were missing.”

“Yeah, some snake asshole grabbed me and knocked me out when I said I didn’t want to go–wait. How did you even get here so fast–“

“I knocked myself out with a flower vase.”

“You fucking what?”

“Not important,” he said, pulling his hands from the others shoulders to capture his hands instead.

“Where are you going?” He shook his head, opening and closing his mouth.

“I don’t know, the only thing he’s said is it’s the demon realm.”

“A name? Someplace close? Anything? Think A-Yuan, anything?”

“Name–Zhuzhi-Lang.” Zhuzhi-Lang? Didn’t ring a bell but the other was looking at him like it should’ve.

“He’s Tianlang-Jun’s nephew.” Still not ringing a bell. He was sure the other had never mentioned the name before, so why was he expecting Binghe to know it?

“Tianlang-Jun’s your father.” Oh, that’s why Shen Yuan thought he’d know him. He didn’t, but it made sense why he thought he would.

Wait, “Tianlang-Jun was buried under a mountain?”

“I’m aware, which is why I don’t understand why we’d be going to the demon realm unless…”

“Unless they’re taking you to the holy mausoleum.”

“Why though,” Shen Yuan wondered aloud, tucking his chin into his hand with Binghe still holding his hand, seemingly unaware he did the action.

“I don’t care as long as they don’t touch you. I’ll be there soon.”

“Wait, Binghe, how’re you going to get there?” Smiling cockily, he reached out and tugged the other against him, tucking his chin against the others shoulder.

“Same way I do everything, with force.” Blinking, he then woke up again. Slamming his door open, he found Liu Qingge where he left him, sword blessedly put away.

“Where is he–“

“Go get your sect leader and get whoever else you think is powerful, I need to go.”

“Go where, where is he?!”

“Nowhere you can get to, now move your ass,” he shouted before diving down a hallway to his left where he then lost his trailer. He knew where to find Mobei and he needed to get to him right now. He had two possibly actions left, he could go and get the sword, he was confident xin mo would be able to break into the mausoleum with ease.

The other possibility though, he was certain he could do. It wouldn’t take any longer than the sword, it would only be harder and he would need to use all his energy on getting in. If he used all his energy though, how likely was it he’d have any left to get Shen Yuan out of there? He could do it though, he could do it all on his own as he always did.

“Mobei,” he shouted soon as he saw the man, catching the look of surprise when he turned away from a conversation he was having with Shang Qinghua.

“Get me to Cang Qiong now.”

His head pounded, his demon blood only working so fast to fix it. He temporarily assigned Meng Mo to fixing it. The demon cussed at him that wasn’t his department, but Binghe ignored him.

They’d almost broken through now, a few more seconds and–the roof collapsed as he rode in on the last beast he had left, it dying beneath his feet as he landed on the ground to three pairs of eyes staring at him.

“And he would capture two hundred black moon python rhinoceros’s to get you. Peak lord Shen, this apparent son of mine must truly care about you.” What bullshit was this guy spouting. He saw a corpse of a man sitting in a coffin, one half snake man thing he recognized from a fight he’d had years ago, and Shen Yuan gathered together, Shen Yuan only a short distance away from the other two.

“Shizun is alright?” He asked calmly, facing only the man he came here for. Shen Yuan nodded, staring down at the dead thing by Binghe’s feet. Disgusted, he jumped off it and landed on the ground lightly, the sword against his back rattling lightly in it’s sheath as his boots clicked against the ground. Without thought, Binghe reached back to grab it.

“Ah, that must be the famous xin mo I’ve heard so much about, you know, from owning it. I’m sure it’s been fun to use, tell me son, how was it–“ he stopped speaking, not because Binghe had stabbed the blade through his throat as he would’ve liked to but because Binghe had tossed the sheath to Shen Yuan. He caught it without thinking, looking down to it a moment later and smiling.

Binghe had only stopped to grab one thing before coming here, Shen Yuan’s sword. If it responded to him in Shen Qingqui’s body, it would respond to him now. If a soul shift wouldn’t affect it, a body change wouldn’t either.

“That not–where’s the sword?” He didn’t say a word that would acknowledge the other, starting to walk towards Shen Yuan who had finished tying it to his side by now. His head wouldn’t stop pounding, the lack of sleep not being the thing that got him, but the exhaustion of no rest.

“How does it fit?” Shen Yuan looked up to him, shooting a brief smile his way as well as a thumbs up, whatever that meant.

“I’m talking to you, where’s–“

“If shizun is alright with it, he can come with this one?”

“Of course.” Nodding, he continued towards him even as snake boy—what was his name again?—started hissing at him.

“No manners,” he muttered, glaring at him but not stopping. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to fight someone bigger than you?” A moment after he said it, his hand shot out and knocked the other back into the wall across from him, leaving the space between him and Shen Yuan empty and safe again.

Stepping into the space between him and them, Binghe slipped into a stance he knew he could use against them. He wasn’t given the opportunity though as a sword flew past his face and hit dead into the eye of the mural behind the coffin. It seemed Shen Yuan was making good use of the sword.

Binghe was only noticing the murals presence after it had already been broken, watching it transform from a smiling woman into a loud screeching thing that vibrated and echoed through his head. It was already pounding before, the newest noise only serving to make it worse. He could feel liquid leaking from his ears and knew at first feeling it was his own blood.

Unconsciously he raised his hand up to block the noise only for a hand to grab at his arm and start dragging him away into the next room, the noise fading away as Shen Yuan used a mechanism to slam a door shut over the hole. Turning Binghe found himself looking down at a face upon the floor, it’s nature clearly fierce if it’s decorative cover was anything to go by.

Shen Yuan had nearly turned and stepped on it without noticing, only managing to keep from triggering anything thanks to Binghe slipping an arm around his waist and pulling him back.

“This disciple apologizes for his–“

“Save it, how do we get across?” Lips tilting up temporarily, Binghe turned away from the other but still shot out his other arm to sweep the others legs off the ground. Holding him to his chest, he made quick work getting across the floor.

“How did you–“

“Acupuncture points.” Once more after they exited Shen Yuan shut the door and they turned to face the last room.

“Does Shen Yuan know so much about the holy mausoleum from reading?” Binghe asked lightly, staring straight ahead at the downpour they’d have to get across.

“And memorized it.” Huh.

Yeah, surely there was a more specific way to do this, but he was done with this stupid place. Carefully he dropped the others legs but kept hold of his waist, tucking his sleeve above both of their heads and crossing the room in a daze of rain until they’d come to the other side. Again, door was shut by a sputtering Shen Yuan.

“Cut out so much–would it even fill three lines!” He hissed at nothing, glaring at the ever present thing that was next on Binghe’s list to rid the world of. First though, he needed to get his god free of this place.

“Why would he want xin mo so badly. It’s not great.” Snorting, Shen Yuan straightened up and they started down the barely lit hallway.

“No clue, but only you would be bold enough to say that of the demon heart sword.” He chose to ignore the way his heart fluttered at the second part of his statement, addressing the first aloud.

“If Shen Yuan had to guess though…?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say it was for something like combining realms.” What.

“What?”

“It’s what, ah, book characters do it all the time.” Was he saying Binghe had combined the realms? Someone else maybe? No, he wouldn’t do that, not him now anyways. He’d worked too damn hard at fixing the realms, for his shizun, his god, for it to go down the drain to a half dead thing like that. “Why else would someone like him need xin mo.”

“Other than being a–“

“Yes, other than that.” Humming, he nodded along with his words even as his head pounded and stung along with his back. Some of the water hit him along the way and after running to get shizun’s sword and getting all those rhinos and borrowing one of the swords Mobei had been trying to get rid of for years that he broke the second the entrance was opened, he was utterly exhausted. He would be fine though, he could fix this as he always did.

The hallway was darker than he’d been expecting, stupidly so seeing as they were in a mausoleum. Light had started to spark all around them though, green candles glowing their path into light and their appearance was soon followed by the low moaning of the wandering corpses. Great, just what they needed to deal with. To think his god had been in this damned place for so long before Binghe could get there, it made him angry to even think about.

It was easy to send them away, gritting his teeth and keeping them moving forwards. His legs were starting to scream at him, he hadn’t rested in days, not even sitting as he gathered them, and falling through that ceiling hadn’t been good for his ankles. He could keep walking though, and he would.

“Who were the others Tianlang-Jun referred to?” Referred to? Had he said something to Shen Yuan about others when Binghe wasn’t there?

“I came alone,” he said simply, turning to look confused at the other who returned the look.

“Then who was he referring to?”

“As long as they stay out of this one’s way, I couldn’t care less. All I care about is getting Shen Yuan out of here safely.”

“Binghe better also get himself safely from here.” Was he worried Binghe wasn’t strong enough? No, he never questioned Binghe’s strength before, so then what was it? Was he…worried about Binghe? If so, there was no reason for it, though he wouldn’t deny the idea made a whimsical smile cross his face.

“Shen Yuan shouldn’t worry about Binghe, I’ll be fine.”

“Worried, who’s worried!” If he hadn’t followed up the movement by turning sharply and pouting, Binghe might’ve actually been concerned he misread things.

Ugh, it hurt so much. The rain had definitely hit his back and ruined his robes, possibly his skin as well. Whatever they made the stuff out of, it was definitely not something he could easily heal. His foot caught against nothing and nearly pitched him forwards. He might’ve fallen if an arm hadn’t reached out and held him up, catching Binghe before he could fully collapse.

“Binghe? Luo Binghe?” The other called out to him, his other hand reaching out to lightly tap on Binghe’s cheek. He’d made Shen Yuan worry, he needed to do better, he couldn’t collapse yet. Opening his eyes, he wondered why the others face was thrown in a purple light when the candles were green before realizing his mark must’ve been glowing. What were the odds of that. Sliding the best smile he could onto his face, he tried to reassure the other by shifting his weight back to his own feet. Even then the other didn’t remove his arm from around Binghe.

“Apologies shizun, this one did not mean to–“

“Shut up, what’s wrong,” he hissed, looking over Binghe’s face as he lifted his other hand to feel at his forehead and pulled it back a moment later after barely touching his skin. Yeah, that was a fair reaction. It seemed the exhaustion of the whole thing was starting to wear on him, but he couldn’t give up now. He had to get Shen Yuan out of here, he had to fix this.

Lifting himself from the others hold, he glared at the corpses that had sensed weakness and they retreated again.

“We should make haste,” he announced, beginning to walk forwards and trusting the other to follow. He called on Meng Mo to try and fix whatever was going on, but the demon was busy sulking in the corner of his mind. Great, one time he needed him and the demon couldn’t get over his temper tantrums.

They passed rows and rows of the candles, leaving behind a green trail of light as they kept moving at a steady pace in the direction he’d entered through, having to pass through several rooms to get there. He didn’t know yet what they’d run across, but shizun had read Binghe’s original story and he was guessing something was in it that said something on this accursed place. So, he would follow the other until they were free.

From what he could tell, they were moving towards the original doorway Binghe had created, even though it would be weaker now Binghe had no doubt he could open it again. His foot stepped over an invisible boundary and they were suddenly in a jungle.

“What…?” What could this place even–he stopped thinking about it, a flash of light aimed at them shot out, something Binghe caught and snapped in half the second he noticed it. A second one went flying as well, aimed for his neck. Binghe easily spun out of it’s way, catching it’s hilt as it went past and spinning it around it his hand, oppressing the command to strike him with the wave of his hand without ever needing to use his spiritual powers. Someone was looking for death pulling such a move.

Chapter Text

Slowly, he raised his head and watched a pair of people walk into the room. Well, one of them walked, the other Binghe watched be pushed in with a blanket covering what was left of his body as he snorted. Next to him Shen Yuan glanced his way but said nothing, most likely recognizing the man as well.

“Lady Qui, Palace Master, this one trusts you’re doing well,” he greeted, doing nothing more than a fake smile. Binghe nearly let out a laugh after hearing it and barely refrained himself, if only to keep face for his god. Clearly the other hadn’t meant it as such, but the words had definitely come out mockingly.

“Peak lord Shen, do I look well?” He did not. Binghe had honestly forgotten about him over time, he had more important things to do and his daughter was out wandering the world. She had left before he’d done this to her dad, which meant she was probably still unknowing on it. Oh well, that wasn’t his problem right now.

“What might have happened that made elder such way?”

“Why not ask your disciple next to you if you truly don’t know!”Shen Yuan said nothing to the bait, instead sighing lightly. Before he could speak, the woman pushing his wheelchair spoke up.

“Shen Jiu, I had told you I would recognize you in any form, and here you are. I always knew your self destruction was a lie. You? Committing suicide? For atonement of all things? What a joke! Now I will enact my revenge.” Wow. This was the woman who accused Shen Yuan? If she could recognize ‘Shen Jiu’ in any form including this one, then who’s to say Binghe wasn’t Shen Jiu? He liked to think he could pull off the angry whipping disciples look, it couldn’t be that hard. Silently, he looked over to his god who looked back at him, clearly unimpressed with the words of the other as well.

“When Lady Qui appeared in Jinlin city, was that your doing then?”

“Of course!” Old palace master yelled, spit flying as he said it. Thankfully, they were too far away to be effected but Binghe still shifted to stand in front of his god. At least that answered one thing about it. Though the sowers were still mystery to Binghe, he suspected Shen Yuan may have received an answer to that question already going by his small nod.

“This one wonders what he has done to offend you?” The man didn’t look angry at receiving the question, more like he’d been waiting for shizun to ask it. Cocky prick, Binghe should’ve finished the job and saved them this time. It seemed shizun’s wanted to finish the conversation though, so he would wait.

“I see no need to hide it from you, not after it has come to this.” Oh joy, please tell him he wasn’t about to tell his life’s story.

“When Binghe first came to Huan Hua–“ damnit, he was. “–I nurtured him carefully and gave my full support, even offered for him to marry my daughter. He refused though, clearly still having you on his mind.” Binghe’s hand tightened it’s hold against the hilt of the sword he still held, his arm shaking from the force of keeping himself from attacking. He better shut up before he pissed Binghe off more, better not say a damn word about him and shizun to shizun of all people. The palace master took a breath before going on though, clearly not learning from Binghe’s darkened face.

“Naturally I wished to know what kind of good person could have Binghe so held up, imagine my surprise though when I looked into it and discovered your past. I know all, how you grew up, your entering Cang Qiong sect, everything. Even if the sowers were not there that day, you would have inevitably ended up in my prison!” Why was he still talking? Why was Binghe just standing here instead of killing him.

“Why would you aim two swords at Binghe if you care so much for him?” Why did that matter? He’d like to rip the man’s throat out, finish the job he started. Suddenly, the blanket was pulled off his body and revealed his lack of arms and legs. Shen Yuan didn’t take his eyes off the people in front of them, but he did lower his voice.

“You turned him into a human stick,” the other muttered next to him, clearly aiming the words at Binghe but with an odd edge to them.

“Perverted freak deserved it. He threw shizun in the water prison.” Shen Yuan sighed.

“No manners.” It might’ve been fair, but he was still pissed enough to want to finish his job.

“Peak lord Shen, if you would simply step aside and let me deal with this brat. I no longer care what you do, nor where you go.”

“He may let you go but I won’t,” the woman spoke up again, righteousness snaking into her voice. It’s too bad he didn’t know what the truth of Shen Jiu’s past was, but without the body and Meng Mo having never had the chance to search it he–pausing, he temporarily tuned out in the conversation and reached out in his mind.

“Oi, old man.” It seemed the demon had decided to take a break from sulking and glared at him. “When you first met me and shizun in the dreamscape, did you see Shen Jiu’s original memories?”

“Of course I did!” He half yelled at Binghe, clearly offended for him to even have to ask.

“Did you retain any of it?”

“Thankless brat, of course I did! They’re not complete though, whatever it is that happened with him left them wrong and–“

“Yes yes, just wait for me to tell you to use them.” The demon humphed in his head, clearly annoyed Binghe was ordering him around again. He said nothing more though, letting Binghe dive back into the world around them.

“You tell me, will I stand aside?”

What had he been ignoring. Shizun was saying something and he hadn’t been listening, how disrespectful of him. The palace master was clearly gearing up for something but Binghe was prepared. He went to step forwards and begin collecting qi. A hand caught Binghe before he could even begin, though, one he recognized easily.

He didn’t understand, obviously Shen Yuan was angry too, why would he not let Binghe attack? They would attack sooner or later, what if Binghe was too late? He didn’t answer him though, only sending a brief glance at the ground Binghe mirrored.

Was there…something in the ground? With the ground? Was he trying to protect Binghe? From what?

Then, the palace master let out a below filled with spiritual energy and Binghe shifted to hold out the sword he’d captured, blocking the attack with no issues and using no spiritual energy to do so. Binghe remained calm even as the blade started to crack under the force, fully snapping in half soon as it finished. Face still neutral, Binghe threw it away from him and continued to stand firm. Soon as palace master saw him throw it’s broken remains away, he smirked and went to attack again.

Binghe saw no other option, he would use his spiritual force and deal with the possible consequences later. It’s not like it would kill him, he’d be fine. Before he could though, a body dodged in front of him and lifted Xui Ya still in it’s scabbard to block it again. This one wasn’t more powerful but went on longer, long enough the scabbard started to crack and Shen yuan had to retreat. The scream ended only a second after Shen yuan retreated, but let out enough power it knocked him over.

Binghe reached out to catch him, being knocked over as well in the process. Shen Yuan tried to have Binghe land on him but Binghe switched their positions, carefully protecting the other until they hit the ground and–oh, he’d been so focused on keeping his god safe he forgot to duck his head and it hit the ground with a thump. Oh, ow that–that hurt.

Shutting his eyes, he tried to breath through what he was sure was probably a lovely concussion. It, along with the stinging in his back and arm and the exhaustion, he needed a second here. It could be fixed, he’d need a minute though. They didn’t have a minute, he needed to get up but Shen Yuan had pressed him down when he tried to move. He trusted the man enough to believe he had a plan and laid limply against the ground with the other pressed atop him.

“You protect him until the end?” The palace masters voice cut in, closer than before. They must’ve wheeled over. He needed to open his eyes, but something was knocked out of place when he hit the ground. His blood was fixing it as they spoke above him, not using spiritual power and simply doing what it was supposed to.

“Wrong, wrong! You would never try to protect anyone, stop pretending.” Binghe did not like her, she was loud and kept yelling at his god for something he didn’t do. Palace master had been quiet though, and Binghe couldn’t tell why until Shen Yuan tensed atop him as the man in question sighed. Ah. He had that look, didn’t he?

“He looks most like her like this.” Yep. He did. Binghe knew there was a reason he’d done this to the man. This, this was the reason.

“Ingrates, the both of you! I would’ve given you all you wanted, Huan Hua, my position, isn’t that what you wanted?!” Finally, he could open his eyes again, just in time for Shen yuan to grab at his head and tug him up, hiding Binghe’s face against his chest.

Binghe could think of nothing better to ever happen to him, he was holding Binghe, hugging him! Kinda! Bad timing sure, but Shen Yuan was still choosing to protect Binghe!

“If you had been loyal, there is nothing I would not have given either of you! But you chose that demon!” Suddenly his voice dropped, the perverse tone growing worse again.

“Xiyan, come over…shizun has something for you to drink–“

“Enough. He is not Su Xiyan!” Binghe didn’t know who that was, the name not ringing a bell he understood, but he could guess. The demon most likely referred to Tianlang-jun, did that mean Su Xiyan was his birth mother? So she…she didn’t abandon him.

Closing his eyes against Shen Yuan’s chest, Binghe frowned before pulling back lightly, skull and brain back in their proper places as well as his back and arm feeling better from whatever that liquid the woman cried on them had been. He expected to see a crazed man and he did, what he hadn’t expected to see was the sprouts growing from every hole in the man’s face.

Pausing, he looked to the side to see Shen Yuan grinning at the outcome. So he knew it would happen? Binghe was right, the man was truly amazing, how could he know this? Even if he read about it, it was a book, this couldn’t have been something big to be remembered, so the fact Shen Yuan could specifically remember it was just…amazing.

“Shen Jiu what have you done!” She screamed, hand on the hilt to her sword.

“I wouldn’t draw that unless you want the same to happen to you.”

“Wh–what have you–“

“Have you forgotten this is a tomb? Another demons tomb nonetheless.” She froze, staring wide eyes at him, hands slowly raising to cover her mouth.

“Palace master should not move, otherwise the sprouts will spread to his lungs and organs, as well along his throat and eventually his brain.” The words weren’t even aimed at her but the woman still fainted from the news.

“Now,” he commanded of Meng Mo, gaining minimal grumbling before he went to do as Binghe commanded. He had better things to do than personally end her life, some torture would go over better. Shizun started to stand easily, smile not leaving his face as Binghe stood as well and stepped besides him as he started to walk towards what Binghe assumed to be an exit.

“Don’t…go…” shizun looked over his shoulder at the man for some reason, his eyes widening the second he saw him. Inwardly cussing, Binghe spun around and grabbed Shen Yuan’s sword, hoping his move wouldn’t anger the other, and used it to block the others roar, the crack running along it’s scabbard only worsening, but not breaking as he’d feared it would.

Even after he finished and more spores appeared, the man still found it in him to fall off the chair and scream at the woman to wake up. She screamed at seeing him, slashing her sword his way while he laughed. His god tried to warn her not to, but that only drew her attention onto him.

Soon as she saw Shen Yuan’s face and remembered who he was, she began backing away. Good, Meng Mo had done his job then. The demon was probably just sulking rather than telling Binghe anything on it.

“No, no, it’s not big brother it’s not, big brothers never wrong, no! It’s fake! Fake fake fake!” Ooh, whatever he’d shown her, it hit the sweet spot.

“What do you see of me? Is it pity? Hatred? Agh!” She quickly ran off after screaming, further into the mausoleum as both palace master and shizun yelled after her.

“Time to go, shizun, I’ll tell you later,” he said evenly, looking away from the pitiful body on the floor to his god. Shen Yuan nodded, looking where she’d disappeared one more time before turning and taking Binghe’s hand. Behind them the sound of the vines growing on the others head had increased and Binghe wanted to cover the others ears. He didn’t need to hear this.

Before they could get far, that demon corpse thing called out again. Damn, the bitch must’ve known their location, which meant he knew where they were going and might even know a faster route. Without stopping, he tightened his hold on the others hand and kept them moving forwards, even when the old palace master refused to shut up behind them and kept laughing psychopathically.

They exited the room and went back into hallways, passing more coffins and possible issues. They were continuing east, Binghe hoping he could break the section he’d come in through when Shen Yuan tugged at his hand. Binghe nearly dislocated his shoulder jerking himself to a stop, careful not to hurt the other as he looked back.

“Hold on.”

“Shizun?”

“At this rate they’ll catch up before we can get out. Follow me.” They switched places, Shen Yuan leading him around until he came to a stop outside a door. Turning to Binghe, he told him quietly what to do before going to enter the room on his own.

“Wait, shizun,” he called, catching the other before entering.

“What?”

“This one doesn’t want you getting hurt.”

“Does Binghe trust me?” What? Of course.

“With my life,” he said, tone even and catching the other almost off guard with his seriousness. He recovered a second later to nod his head.

“Then stay here.” Then, he was gone and leaving Binghe alone to pace. He couldn’t pace of course, that would make noise and might raise his temperature. He could hear the moment they came in, heard their conversation, heard his shizun gain the upper hand and begin towards Binghe again.

Then, he heard shizun in pain. He almost walked out, nearly revealed himself then but shizun made him swear. Bitting his lip hard enough to draw blood, he kept breathing steadily, hands starting to shake as he waited until shizun came into sight, all the while his father complimented him on how well he could move still.

Soon as he came into sight, Binghe reached out and grabbed both sides of the others face, pulling it towards his own and kissing him. He couldn’t think of anything else that would shock the other into accepting the blood still flowing from the cut on his lip. Thanks to his connection to the other, he could hear a faint dinging noise and opened his eyes to see a blue glowing thing saying something about cool points.

He didn’t bother reading it further before figuring out this must be the system and sinking his fist into it. Another popped up and he sank his hand into that one too. The last one to pop up simply said ‘Message clear!’ He also sank his fist into that one and they stopped coming after that. Good.

He doubted that was the end of it, but he’d come back to it at a later time. Soon as his blood was in the other, he pulled back and carefully worked to stop whatever snake boy had done. He could hear them shouting about it in the room over and smirked, eyes flittering to the wall he knew they’d be behind.

Soon as their voices cut off, he let out a small scoff, flickering his eyes back over to where Shen Yuan was staring up at him, mouth hanging open and still squished between Binghe’s hands.

Oh crap, crap, shit, oh no. Pulling his hands back, he quickly surpassed the thought of what he’d done and grabbed the others hands, dragging them both away from where they could possibly be frozen. Soon as he was sure he wouldn’t kill them both with his blushing, he stopped and turned to the other, falling into a kneel to avoid eye contact.

“This one apologizes, he could think of nothing else to stop the heavenly blood from affecting Shen Yuan.”

“Binghe, get up.” Wincing, he’d like to say no thanks but did as his god said, straightening back up to look at the other. His face was glowing red in the limited light around them, the red not coming from Binghe’s forehead this time. He was refusing to look at Binghe, but that was fine seeing as his own face was probably redder than the others.

“It’s alright, let’s just get out of here.” He nodded but the other had already started walking away without taking Binghe’s hand again. Binghe followed, his shoulders falling.

Shizun must’ve been angry, that’s why his face was red. Binghe overstepped, like he always did, and finally ruined things for them. How was he supposed to face Shen Yuan now? If his god couldn’t even look at him after Binghe did that to save him, how would he think of Binghe if he knew the extent of how much he wanted to do that to him always? He would hate him, more than he already did.

Carefully Binghe lead them to the place he recognized as the area he’d smashed in and reared his leg back, stomping a hole back through the rift. Reaching out blindly, he hoped the other would take his hand as he focused on keeping it open again.

Just as he began to fear Shen Yuan wouldn’t, a small hand slipped into his own. He couldn’t waste time feeling the joy in his stomach, instead pulling them both through and out into sunlight as it shut again behind them. His god stumbled soon as he got through, raising a hand to block his eyes. Binghe naturally reached out to catch them, holding onto his hand and helping until his eyes had adjusted as well as Binghe’s.

“Shen-shidi,” a voice called out and both of their heads snapped up to look over. It seemed the meathead was good for something after all. Yue Qingyuan stood across from them, Liu Qingge next to him as well as several of the other peak lords and even Shang Qinghua, though the man was cowering behind Mobei who was pretending to not be there. He was almost impressed, he knew the demon wasn’t exactly all that good with sunlight, so seeing him out mid day was a surprise. Shang Qinghua must’ve asked.

They must’ve been quite the sight to see coming out, Binghe with torn and melted robes, blood staining the parts they could see and dust covering everything else but still standing with a proud face, and Shen Yuan who only had a little dust from when Binghe first came through the ceiling on him. As it should be.

Soon as they started towards the group, Tianlang-jun’s voice rang out behind them as the two started to come through the previously shut barrier themselves. Binghe had them standing next to the other peak lords in a seconds time, carefully settling his god down before stepping in front of him and cracking his knuckles.

“You dared feed shizun your blood,” he said, tone carefully cold and low, catching the look of genuine surprise on their faces before the masks were back up.

“I see! But how can you say that when you own the other set of blood in peak lord Shen?”

“You what,” he heard Liu Qingge hiss and Binghe rolled his eyes hard enough to hurt himself. He chose not to dignify it with a response, what had happened was between him and his god, not these lowly people. He would rather fight them than talk, but Shen Yuan had just stepped up next to Binghe and waved him down.

“Let this one ask one question, why does his lordship want the demon heart sword so badly.” Right, Binghe had forgotten about that part. Hadn’t they already discussed that though, what good would talking about it further do?

“It’s simple really, I love both the human realm and the demon one, I want them to experience each other the same way I did, so I’ll combine them!” And no, he was wrong, it was so much worse hearing it out loud. All his fighting energy was zapped away the longer the man talked and he could do nothing but slap his palm to his face, the motion mirrored by Shen Yuan.

“That’s not feasible,” he said simply soon as his hand dropped.

“Beyond that, the countless lives lost both demon and human will cause there to be nothing to share between the realms. They’ll be dead,” Shen Yuan continued for him, his hand also dropping to rest on his hip. Binghe looked away from him and back to the man across from him who had started to lose the smile.

“Along those lines. The sword is gone. You’ll do nothing but cause your own…second…death…if you continue on this path.”

“Well said,” Yue Qingyuan cut in, stepping up on Shen Yuan’s other side, his hand resting on the hilt to his sword. Binghe could feel the power radiating off it, wondering not for the first time what the deal with the sword was.

“No, I don’t think it is. Besides, the humans need to be punished anyways. They’re not kind, you should know that, son.” How dare he refer to Binghe like he understood anything about him?

Binghe didn’t trust people, why would he? But he didn’t trust demons either. The truth was, Binghe trusted only a few people, and even then the only one with absolute and full trust was the man besides him. For a man who talked so highly of humans he certainly didn’t–

Wait. If he liked humans, why would they need to pay? He knew the demon had been sealed under a mountain before now, knew it was because The Palace Master had claimed he was evil but how did they even get him there? Demons weren’t easy to trick, especially heavenly demons and Tianlang-jun, for all his joking, didn’t seem completely stupid. So how had–oh. That’s why he was angry.

“The previous Palace master of Huan Hua killed Su Xiyan,” he suddenly rushed to say, holding his head high as the other focused on Binghe again. It wasn’t going to work, but that would be better. If it didn’t work, that meant Binghe got to have some fun with the demon and rip his corpse into a…corpse.

“Whoever told you she would meet you there lied. My guess is she never even knew about your being sunk under the mountain before death,” he was guessing, he knew it and so did Shen Yuan, but no one else did, giving him looks of astonishment and confusion.

“No, that’s impossible. She–“

“She drank poison meant to kill Binghe,” Shen Yuan cut in gently, sending a small glance his way. He chose to ignore the look, in return gritting his teeth and staring at the man in front of him.

“Instead she absorbed it and died. She didn’t know and had nothing to do with this.” He opened his mouth and shut it again, the smile having fully fallen long ago. Next to him snake boy glanced nervously at his lord in time for the arm previously connected to his body to fall off, silence following it as it fell.

“How about we get you a body instead,” Shen Yuan suddenly suggested, staring at the thing on the ground. “We can discuss the extent of your predicament then.”

“I…think that might be alright?” Could that have worked? Did they actually managed to get the guy to calm down?

“Is that it?” Someone muttered behind him and he had to agree. Next to Shen Yuan, Yue Qingyuan sighed, slipping his hand from the hilt of his sword.

“If his lordship would come with us, I believe we may be able to work something out.” He said, starting to turn as snake boy grabbed Tianlang-jun’s arm and reattached it as they followed.

“Including vacation?”

“Let’s talk first. Shen-shidi?” Shen Yuan nodded but didn’t move to follow them, instead looking to Binghe.

“Coming?” Blinking, Binghe nodded without thinking, turning to follow when his god went to leave. Clearly, Liu Qingge had a problem with it as he sputtered.

“This is sect affairs, he’s not involved.”

“On the contrary, Binghe is more involved in this than I am. Is it not Binghe who’s been negotiating demon rights and treaties with the sect? Why wouldn’t he be present then while we discuss a demons rights?” Pride swelled in his gut as his shizun praised him, smirk slipping onto his face. Again though, he did not like that answer.

“He force fed you blood!”

“There was no force!” The shout caught the attention of the other peak lords and had Shen Yuan’s face going red a second later.

“We’re leaving,” he announced, starting forwards. Binghe didn’t know if we included him but he moved to walk behind him nonetheless until they stood in front of Mobei who had already opened the portal. Before he entered, after his god had already slipped though, Binghe turned back and shot them a smirk.

“This one will wait for you all at Cang Qiong.” With that, he slipped through the portal, closely followed by Mobei and Shang Qinghua. They came out at the base of the stairs.

Looking up, Binghe lost his smile. He forgot about having to climb them. Steeling his heart, he prepared himself to walk up when a hand appeared in front of him. Blinking, he looked to the owner and found Shen Yuan standing atop Xui Ya, an eyebrow raised to him. Glancing over, he saw Shang Qinghua and Mobei were already on his sword and quickly climbed on. Without thinking, he went to wrap his arms around his gods waist and discovered if he wanted to, he only need use one arm to do so. He still used both, couldn’t be falling off and prolonging them from their trip after all.

“We’ll meet you at the hall,” Shen Yuan said before flying them upwards towards a familiar peak. As they went, Binghe tightened his hold on the others waist and felt the others hands pat at his own. Why were they going to the bamboo hut? Was there a reason they needed to go there?

Soon as they landed he released his shizun and stepped away, only following when he was waved on. Shen Yuan walked in without thought, leaving Binghe to hover outside the door. Breathing in sharply, he stepped in, falling into the place of his past without ever noticing.

Things had changed so much, yet the house looked the same. Disorganized to the point of nearly being a mess but stopping right before it hit that point with fans hung on walls, paintings both done by professionals and done by other disciples hanging right besides them. The surface of things were covered not in dust but cups and papers, left exactly as it had been. His shizun stretched his arms above his head, the ill-fitting and cheap robes falling down around his arms and showing off pale skin.

“I’m going to change, you should too. I think there’s a few robes in your closet that may still fit you,” he announced, Binghe turning his eyes away soon as he did with his face heating up.

“This one will make tea after finishing.” He said, staying where he was until he could hear the other hum and only then turning and walking slowly back towards the place he knew his old room would be.

His god had said there was robes there for him, but why would his stuff still be there? It had been eight years since his return to the bamboo house, and his leaving hadn’t exactly been on good terms, surely they took his things out of the room by now. Nervously, he stood outside the door for long enough he feared the other would walk out of his room and find Binghe was still standing there.

That thought alone pushed him to open the door and step inside, shutting it behind himself and focusing his eyes on the area. Nothing had changed. Stepping further inside, he found his eyes skipping from one thing to another as his heart started pounding harder and harder in his chest.

His painting of a scenic river shizun had given him for his fifteenth birthday still hung on the wall above his bed, the little pillow Ning Yingying worked on for a week and given him when he first joined the sect stacked atop his other pillow with the perfectly made bed left as was. There were still letters stacked atop his table, the robes he’d set out to dry the night before the conference were still hung up, his chair was still not pushed back all the way. It was as though he’d never left.

Without his meaning them to, tears collected behind his eyes as he walked further in, tracing his fingers along the surface of everything he came along. The empty tea cup, handkerchief he’d forgotten to bring, letters opened and unopened. Sniffling, he swiped at his eyes with his ruined sleeves, remembering why he was in here in the first place when he got dust in his eye. Moving over to his closet, he opened it and discovered all his robes were still there, none of them moldy nor musty, as though having been aired out and taken care of for a ghosts pleasure.

Reaching in absently, he gently pinched the fabric of one between his fingers before pulling it out. Shizun had gotten it for him the year of the conference, it was bigger than the others, looking nothing like the style of Qing Jing peak but everything like Binghe’s current style. He hadn’t thought anything of it back then, but now, looking at his style of clothing in the colors of his peak, it…he nearly couldn’t breath. He really did know Binghe would survive. Did that mean he always hoped Binghe would come back?

Carefully, he peeled his other robes off and wiped his body of any remaining blood and dust before settling the other ones where they had been. Flipping his hair out, he walked over to the bronze mirror and looked to his own face inside, smile on his face as he did so. Everything had changed. Every single thing. Yet, here he was, eight years later and still wearing the colors of Qing Jing peak.

Still smiling, he left his room soon after, walking towards the kitchen. Stepping through, he stared at the space. It wasn’t as dusty as he’d feared, forgetting for a moment Ming Fan or even Ning Yingying might have cleaned it. Did that mean they also cleaned his room? Or had someone else?

He hadn’t seen either of them in years, would he run into them ever again? Did he want to? Frowning, he carefully poked around until he found the things he’d need, managing to pour it into a cup soon as his shizun came back into the room. Thankfully he’d set the teapot down already or he might’ve spilled it right then and there.

He was dressed in the robes Binghe always recognized him in, green with white and gold edges. It was a set of robes Binghe had never seen before though, both looking exactly like something Shen Qingqui would wear and something his god would. He noticed Binghe staring right away, pausing in the doorway with a raised eyebrow, his hand clenched around something and halfway hidden in the sleeves.

“Does Binghe have an issue?”

“This one has never seen shizun wearing these robes is all.”

“Hmm, I found them near the back. I’m assuming they were Shen Jiu’s when he was still growing.” He said walking further into the room and taking the cup already poured from Binghe with his free hand.

“They look nice on Shen Yuan.” He hummed, staring down at the drink and only holding it in one hand. “Is something wrong?” He had to be angry at Binghe for kissing him, that had to be it. Otherwise, why would he stare at the drink Binghe had made him like it caused him personal offense.

Without warning, Shen Yuan sucked in a breath and set the cup back down, facing Binghe the same way he did whenever he had news. Then, he thrust his hand out to Binghe, holding something out to him. Blinking, he looked into the others eyes for another moment before looking down and his mind immediately blanked.

“I should’ve given this back years ago,” he said like the words were even slightly entering Binghe’s mind. All he could do was stare at what the other was holding in his hand. There it sat, the beautiful jade necklace his mother had given him so many years ago, innocently sitting there like Binghe hadn’t cried himself to sleep for a month after losing it. Numbly, he reached out with shaking hands to run his fingers over the surface, nearly flinching back when the cold surface met his hand. Shutting his mouth and opening it again, he looked back up at his god.

“You had it,” he breathed out, eyes growing blurry again. He couldn’t see the other features very well anymore, but he could certainly see the nod sent his way.

“I always meant to give it back, it just…never seemed a safe time.” Shutting his mouth, he looked back down at the necklace and scooped it up into his hands, holding it like the precious gem it was. Not even the red string it was on had faded with time, it’s appearance exactly the same as the day he lost it. He, for once in his life, had no idea what to say.

“Thank you, Shen Yuan,” he whispered, voice filled with an emotion he hoped the other couldn’t name. Soon as he said the others name he gave Binghe a weird look.

“Why does Binghe keep switching my name?” Sniffling, he furrowed his brows, his own hand carefully folding over the jade as he looked back up. Did he mean when he called him shizun? Was he not supposed to–was he not allowed to call him shizun anymore? He didn’t tell Binghe, he didn’t know.

“This one apologizes but, what might Shen Yuan be referring to,” he said, tone going up and down with nerves as he carefully lifted the string, dropping it over his head. It settled against his chest, already beginning to warm with his natural body heat.

“That. Earlier you called me A-Yuan and now you’re back to my full name? Why?” That’s…that’s what he meant? He hadn’t even noticed himself saying it, at the time focused solely on finding where his god had been taken. Did that mean Binghe could call him that? Absently, his fingers curled around the necklace, thumb rubbing circles over it like he had so many years ago.

“This one apologizes for his insolence, but I–“ how was he supposed to end that? How was he supposed to end that?! The reason he’d called his god that was because he was in love with him, how was he supposed to explain that without saying anything.

The other was waving his hand around in front of Binghe’s face, he didn’t move though, still staring. What was he even supposed to answer with? Was there anything he could answer that would be sincere and not screw him over?

“Binghe? Hello? I broke him, ah–“

“I’m in love with you.”

They both froze. Who let him speak? Who said that was a good idea? He’d asked Binghe why he called him a different name, not his personal feelings ah!

“I think I heard you wrong, could Binghe repeat that?” He dropped the necklace.

“I’m in love with you.”

And he’d said it again. Great. Truly he was a genius, how no one managed to see that amazed him. Shizun blinked at him, lowering his hand from where it had been waved in front of him.

“Binghe…loves…but you said you loved a pretty girl?”

“Binghe said he was in love with someone, his god, my shizun, A-Yuan. Shen Yuan was the one to say Binghe was in love with a woman.”

“Oh.” Again they stared at each other before his god suddenly sucked in a breath and turned away, hand almost bumping into his still full cup and spilling it’s contents onto the counter.

“We ought to be going or we’ll be late.”

“Shizun,” he tried to call but the other had already moved and was walking away, not turning to face Binghe as he did so. He’d blown it. He’d ruined it. Whatever you wanted to call it, Binghe had done it.

Silently, he followed behind him and walked behind the man until they arrived at the meeting hall where Mobei and Shang Qinghua were already waiting. The man greeted Shen Yuan and went to ask where they’d been before catching sight of Binghe’s face and for once in his life shutting up.

It took forever for the other peak lords to get there, even longer to finish negotiating what would happen with Tianlang-Jun, but at the end of the night, Binghe was told to leave and stood to do so, his father and apparent cousin as well as Mobei and Shang Qinghua in tow. Before leaving, he cast a look back into the room to shizun. The other refused to look back at him, his face hidden behind the fan he hadn’t lowered through the entire meeting.

Binghe turned back, walking through the door and leading his troupe down the mountain. Behind him Tainlang-Jun happily chatted away at Mobei who was trying his hardest to be unable to hear him. Binghe tuned them out, even after arriving back into the castle all he did was tell Mobei to watch them before walking away.

His god didn’t feel the same as him. He understood that, truly he did. How could such a kind being ever feel that way towards his lowly self? He hadn’t been expecting him not to say anything though. Even if they’d reacted in disgust, even if they reacted in anger, terror, Binghe would have understood.

They didn’t though. Instead, shizun had said nothing at all as they walked, only acknowledging Binghe in the meeting when he had to and never again.

Shutting his door, he stared down at the robes he’d taken before pulling them off, having a bath brought up ahead of time. He washed off the blood that he’d gathered through the day, along with the dust and dirt, and who knows what else and sent for the robes he’d taken to be cleared right away. He didn’t look at the water until he’d finished, scrounging his nose at it’s color as he dried and only bothered to dress in inner robes. He would be sleeping soon anyways.

They could get the bath cleaned up later, he wanted to sleep, wanted to trick himself into believing the day hadn’t happened in his own dreamscape, wanted to escape. Of course, his luck wasn’t that good.

Soon as he opened his eyes, it was to a pathway he knew well. His lips trembled as he stared at it, standing there only dressed in his inner robes. Why would this happen? Why did it happen in the first place? It wasn’t like that system thing effected them here, so why? Maybe it would be one of those nights the other wouldn’t show up, maybe he could exist in the space alone.

He moved slowly through it, the weight of his familiar outfit settling onto his shoulders no matter how badly he wished they didn’t. Something was new though, a very specific piece of jewelry settling on his chest along with the robes as though he needed another reminder of all his god had done for him. He tried walking slowly, he tried stopping several times, he even turned back once. It was no good though, no matter what, he still couldn’t help wanting to see his god.

When he finally reached the end and looked around, his eyes settled on…nothing. It seemed this really would be one of those nights Binghe was alone. His shoulders fell at the thought as his feet carried him over to the ever running stream to look down at. No matter how many times he’d been here, he never could stop loving the place. Though maybe that was because it only served to remind him of his love of him. Staring down into it, he sighed.

Would he ever see them again? Would they want to see Binghe? If he did see them, would they run? Shizun had never treated him unfairly before, not his shizun, if he really hated Binghe because of this, then it–it must be…it must be–

Kicking his foot out, he hit against the waters surface, temporarily settling it off course before it went back to what it always did. Balling his fists, he settled his foot back onto the ground next to him, wishing his hitting it would’ve effected it more. He couldn’t force Shen Yuan into anything he didn’t want. If he didn’t want Binghe, that was his decision. No matter what he’d done for him, no matter if he worked harder, if he did not want Binghe’s love, Binghe would not force him. He couldn’t do that, not to shizun, not to his god. Not to Shen Yuan.

Uncurling his fists, he raised his head from the stream and stared ahead. He should leave. He didn’t want to be here when Shen Yuan wasn’t. He didn’t want to be here in general.

Something moved behind him, startling Binghe into nearly falling forwards. Something was running at him, nothing else would make that noise. Spinning around, he tensed back up, prepared for a fight. Instead, a body with a head of white hair he knew well crashed into him, knocking them both backwards.

Eyes widening to nearly pop out of his head, Binghe threw his hands out to catch them before they fell, but it was too late and next thing he knew he was laying in the stream as it rushed around him, arms trapping him in on either side as the other sat on his stomach panting.

Shen Yuan had tackled him. He’d caught Binghe so off guard he’d tackled him and they both actually went down. Now, water flowed down his hair and back into it’s source again, leaving his hair dry everywhere but where it was dunked in the stream and attempting to go with it’s flow. He didn’t care about his hair right now though, or the fact his robes were sticking to him with the water.

How was he expected to care about that when Shen Yuan was sitting on him, hands trapping Binghe in place like he would ever want to be anywhere else. Opening his mouth, he went to ask what was wrong when Shen Yuan picked up one of his hands to slap down on Binghe’s mouth.

“My turn to talk,” he announced like Binghe would interrupt him. Still, he nodded against the others hand as he slipped it off his mouth and settled it into the water besides Binghe again. His cheeks were bright red as he breathed in, staring down at Binghe’s face like it would burst into flames. Would he rather he burst into flames? He wasn’t entirely sure he could do that, but for him he could try.

“You’re annoying,” he started and immediately Binghe wanted to shrink in on himself.

“You always think you’re in the right and refuse to change your ways unless the drastic happens–and even then! It took my dying to change your spiral, and you’re way too tall and have so much muscle!” Blinking, he let the others words wash over him all at once, stopping on the last part for longer than he should have.

They used to be a little more comparable, Shen Qingqui’s body was only half a head shorter than him. Shen Yuan was a lot more than that. He lowered his head enough he no longer had to look at Binghe. He really was angry wasn’t he? If he wasn’t then why–

“Binghe is also kind, and tries to fix things he doesn’t have to, and is still kind to me despite throwing you into the endless abyss. Binghe still worked with my sect because he thought it would make me happy, Binghe fought to save me in every sense of the word. Binghe is good and,” he stopped, eyes flickering up to catch Binghe staring at him, his mouth having fallen open. Without saying another word he ripped his hands out of the water and grabbed the collar of Binghe’s robes.

With a strength he didn’t know the other possessed, he pulled Binghe upwards and crashed their lips together. It might’ve been painful if he’d used more power pulling Binghe up. As it was the momentum had slowed enough when their lips met it was gentle.

Binghe blinked at first, unable to do anything but look at Shen Yuan as he squeezed his eyes shut. Oh, this was actually happening, and Binghe wasn’t reacting. Crap he hadn’t reacted.

Shutting his own eyes, he tilted his head up and made the movement easier, as Sha Hualing had taught him. Carefully, without putting distance between them, Binghe pushed off the ground and slid the man into his lap, raising his hands to hold onto his hips to pull him closer to Binghe.

He hadn’t been entirely confident he was doing it right until the other let out a moan and they both froze. Pulling back away from Binghe, the other sucked in a breath and Binghe opened his eyes to see his face turning red again.

“Is–“

“Shut up,” they hissed, hands raising again to cover Binghe’s mouth again. He couldn’t help but smile into the others palm though, his hands still on the others hips and tracing circles in the fabric. Apparently, it had been effective.

“How is Binghe so skilled? I don’t remember you saying you kissed anyone else.” Aha, practice kisses didn’t count! Instead of answering, he raised his hand to pull the others hands down, revealing his grin to the other man who pulled his hands back to lightly hit the top of Binghe’s head.

“Shameless.”

“But A-Yuan likes this shameless one,” he said, full confidence in his voice, absolutely lacking confidence in his soul. Did that mean he liked Binghe? He certainly thought it did, but if he said it didn’t, then what?

“Yes yes, I love Binghe too.” He said it. He said it! He said it to Binghe! He liked Binghe! He more than liked Binghe! He loved Binghe!

Without thinking it through, he shot forwards and curled his arms around the others body, hugging him tightly against his chest and tucking his face into his neck.

“A-Yuan!” The other let out a small chuckle as he hugged Binghe back, his chin settling on Binghe’s shoulder.

“I’m going to have a hell of a time telling the others about this,” he muttered into Binghe’s shoulder, quickly subjected to Binghe laughing against him.

“Please,” he started, “Let this one tell them. It would be the highlight of my life.”

“I’m sure it would. Binghe?” He hummed, letting go of the other when he pulled back from him only because he got to see the others face then. Shen Yuan’s face glowed in the sun above their heads, his hair a halo around him that only served to make him more beautiful.

“You’re sure about me?”

“I will never be more sure about anything in my life.”

“Good.” His last thought before kissing his god senseless again was he would really need to find another house for Meng Mo, he’d rather not have the demon appear when he was with Shen Yuan anyways.