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Chapter Text

It has been a decade since Shen Yuan has seen daylight. It seems kind of tragic, actually, when he puts it that way, but it’s not so bad. He actually quite likes it. 

He’d chosen to jump into the Endless Abyss. He’d chosen to live like this until Luo Binghe eventually wandered into the rift between realms. 

He’d come fully prepared to fight tooth and nail to survive, had spent five years gathering knowledge and gaining B-points so that he would survive in the treacherous place. 

Shen Yuan had gotten lucky; the body he’d been shoved into was extremely powerful, a retired peak lord that was originally meant to participate in a great battle with Luo Binghe but was never used, discarded in favor of more papapa plots.

Unfortunately, all his grinding had turned out to be… largely unnecessary. Sure , the beasts in the Endless Abyss were terrifying and extremely dangerous, but they were still just beings- still creatures, who yearned for affection and craved comfort.

Shen Yuan had learned, very quickly, that all it took to subdue most of the demons that rampaged the lands was a gentle hand and a thoughtful offering. 

It was, surprisingly enough, the same for the plants; demonic plants were well-known to be semi-sentient, so when he watered them and set up light talismans and carefully fed them scraps, they recognized him as good . 

He had planted a whole garden of the things, some vibrant and others dull, some acidic and others poisonous, all roiling with demonic energy- and none of them ever hurt him, unless it was by accident. 

It was nice, to learn that even in the cruel world of PIDW, even in this cold realm of ruthlessness, kindness found a way to exist. 

Shen Yuan had also, maybe, a little bit, planted and cared for an entire forest of bamboo and literally any other plant that could grow in the Abyss, only to fill it with domesticated beasts. It was dense and dark, filled with all the monsters that Shen Yuan had longed to see and examine in person when he’d first read the novel. He’d planted it right behind his house, next to his garden, all enclosed in the most powerful protective array he had ever created. 

It was maybe, a little bit, home , the bamboo hut with its wooden floors and the endless books scattered inside it. 

Anyway, that’s not the point- the point is, it has been a decade since Shen Yuan has seen daylight, and it has been a decade since he could properly tell the passage of time. 

In his defense, he really did try to mark down each passing day, but it was hard. Shen Yuan has always been an obsessive person, the kind to dive headfirst into whatever sparked interest and let it consume him until he could think of nothing else. Now that he doesn’t need to eat or sleep, days pass him by in the blink of an eye, and time slips between his fingers like sand. 

Any supplies he needs, he can just buy from the System; gaining knowledge about the world and inventing has earned him enough points to comfortably afford most things he wants.

Unfortunately, when it comes down to it, the system is utterly useless (That is a lie. It is very useful in that he can buy basically anything from it for a high enough price, but that is about it.), so it doesn’t even inform him that today is the day of the Immortal Alliance Conference . 

The thing he has been waiting fifteen years for. 

Shen Yuan only finds out about it when the entirety of his house starts to rumble, the sounds of fleeing animals loud in the background. 

Oh, he thinks, his eyes widening, the Endless Abyss is opening.  

Fuck , he’d thought he had another month at the very least. 

Cursing under his breath, Shen Yuan hurriedly changes into robes, tacking illusion talismans and presence-hiding talismans and demonic-energy-creating talismans onto the innermost layer. He had a lot of talismans. 

Sue him, they were useful! They were also really fun to invent! And they got him tons of points!

<Hello, dearest host! Mission {Light at the end of the tunnel} has begun! It is a mandatory mission. Mission failure will result in account termination. Please do your best, Host! o(^▽^)o >

“Wow,” Shen Yuan says sarcastically, tying the final layers of his robes, “Thanks for telling me so early, system. Now I’ll have time to prepare for the mission that’s going to decide whether I live or not!”

<System apologizes, but host did not ask to be notified o(´^｀)o >

Shen Yuan rolls his eyes. 

“Of course,” he grumbles. Before the system can argue more, he decisively says, “Tell me the mission objectives, and how many B-points I have.”

Finally finished dressing, Shen Yuan hurries out of his home, stepping into his transportation array as he listens to the system give a report. 

<Mission Objectives: Prevent the blackening level of Luo Binghe from reaching 100%, increase protagonist satisfaction points, obtain 10,000 happiness points. Total B-Points: 25,210>

“Happiness points?” Shen Yuan asks as he is teleported to a hidden cave near the opening of the Endless Abyss. Setting a brusque pace, he heads towards the source of commotion. 

<Host will be awarded happiness points for making Luo Binghe happy.>

… Okay, he should’ve guessed that-

He is distracted from his train of thought when he sees it, when he sees him - the man he’s been waiting 15 years for, the center of this universe- Luo Binghe. 

The first glimpse is… not as grand as Shen Yuan thought it would be. Luo Binghe’s body is limp where it lies on the freezing stone floor of the Endless Abyss, his clothes torn and bloody. Demonic energy rolls off him in powerful waves, keeping the circle of spectators around him at bay. He looks nothing like an all-powerful protagonist.

In fact, all Shen Yuan can see is someone that needs help . 

He pushes his way through the small gathering of demons into the center, standing defensively in front of Luo Binghe. 

“Scram,” he says, his voice cold and hard from extensive practice. He bares his teeth, made sharp by his illusion, in a snarl.

When they catch sight of him, the ones capable of speech begin to whisper. 

Great demon Yuan , he hears, and resists the urge to roll his eyes. Apparently, placating a few beasts and earning the favor of a few violent plants was enough to garner him a fearsome reputation. 

Okay, well, maybe he’d also fought some mediocre demons and won. And maybe he’d subdued the reigning demon tyrant because he’d tried to take away Shen Yuan’s metal-wooled sheep. And maybe he’d accidentally opened a spacial rift to a vacuum on accident. Twice. 

It still wasn’t enough to warrant the rumors!

Either way, it seems to work in his favor; when the demons hear of who he is, most of them flee. 

As for those who don’t, well, Shen Yuan just waves his hand and sends a blast of qi their way. 

Finally, he is left alone with the dirty, broken body of a teenage Luo Binghe. Shen Yuan kneels next to him, carefully turning his body around a little bit and then looping his arms underneath Luo Binghe’s neck and knees. He lifts the boy in a gentle bridal carry, knowing it will be the best way to avoid jostling any of his injuries. 

He is, of course, breathtaking, even covered in dirt and blood. His eyelashes are long and dark, brushing against rosy cheeks. His lips are parted a little, full and pink as cherry blossoms. His skin glows even in the dim lighting of the Abyss, bathed in red light from his demon mark, perfectly smooth save for the furrow between his eyebrows. 

Luo Binghe is every bit as ethereal as he was described to be, and Shen Yuan can’t help but stare, eyes tracing over the curve of his jaw and the slope of his nose. Shen Yuan couldn’t be blamed for it, okay?! This was the protagonist . The most attractive man in all the realms. His charms were irresistible! Even a perfectly straight man like Shen Yuan wasn’t immune to his beauty!

He snaps himself out of it fairly quickly, remembering that the boy is seventeen and teetering on the edge of death when his eyes fall on bruises peeking from the edges of robes dyed red. 

Despite his large stature, the boy is light, as if he hasn’t eaten for days.

Ah, Shen Yuan realizes, with how Qing Jing Peak was to him… he probably hasn’t.

Protectiveness unfurls in his chest with anger, and he pulls Luo Binghe a little closer to his chest. Luo Binghe’s eyes flutter open at the action, staring at him hazily, uncomprehending. Seemingly instinctively, his hands wrap around the fabric of Shen Yuan’s clothes, clutching them tightly. 

“Shh,” Shen Yuan says soothingly, giving the boy in his arms a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, I’ll take care of you. You can rest.”

Perhaps because of his exhaustion, or how emotionally challenging the day has undoubtedly been, or how clouded his mind is by the power of his demonic qi, Luo Binghe doesn’t protest at all. 

Instead, he just shifts his head against Shen Yuan’s shoulder, pressing further into the hold, and lets his eyes slip closed again.

------------------

Luo Binghe wakes up to softness and warmth, and immediately assumes he’s in a dream. He is not allowed good things, not in reality. 

He blinks his eyes open, his body heavy and pliant in its relaxation. There is a dull ache in his left arm, a throb in his right leg, and alarm fills Binghe as he feels it. 

… He’s not supposed to be able to feel injuries in his dreams. 

With great reluctance, he sits up, the blanket tucked around him falling away, and surveys the room he’s in. 

It’s quite nice, with lanterns that glow yellow and fill the place with soft light, floors strewn with pillows and books and a desk so messy he can barely see the wood of it. His eyes stop as a figure walks in, lean and tall, draped in a simple white robe. 

“Oh,” the man says, walking closer to the bed Binghe lies in, “You’re awake.”

Binghe freezes, a hazy memory coming to the forefront of his mind. He remembers a pretty face, a warm embrace, a kind smile and kinder eyes. A soft voice saying "I'll take care of you." He thought- he thought that was a dream, or maybe a hallucination. Something his mind made up to help stay sane at his lowest moments. 

Was this a hallucination? Was he so pathetic that his mind had conjured up this angelic person in its desperacy for kindness? 

Then the man smiles at him, his forest-green eyes crinkling at the corners, just as kind and beautiful as Binghe remembers, and he very quickly decides that if this is a hallucination, he is completely fine with that. 

As long as he gets to keep seeing that smile.

(It makes him feel so warm , like the blankets, like this room, like his mother’s hugs. Like everything Binghe has ever wanted.)

The man makes his way over to the bed, gently pushing the bowl in his slender hands into Binghe’s. 

“Here, eat.”

Binghe stares down at the soupy congee, topped with some odd kind of meat and greens he’s never seen before. 

The man rubs the back of his neck sheepishly when Binghe looks back up at him, uncomprehending. “I know it doesn’t look very good, I’m sorry, I’m not a very good cook and it’s… a little hard to find edible things in the Abyss…”

Then, his eyes seem to harden a little. “But you should still eat! You need energy to heal properly, and I promise none of it is poisonous. I tested!”

Binghe looks down at the congee again, and feels tears well up in his eyes. Ah. He’s not supposed to cry. Crying is for weak children who get beaten up and can’t get their mothers their dying wish. Crying is for dumb disciples who get hot tea poured on them. He’s not supposed to cry. 

A tear drips onto his shaking hands. 

He can’t hold it back. He’s- he’s tired , and so confused, and so overwhelmed . He’s half-demon. Shizun pushed him into the Endless Abyss. He can't go back to Cang Qiong anymore. Someone cooked for him. 

No one has cared enough to cook for him since his mother died. 

He laughs wetly. 

Yeah, this was definitely a hallucination. 

The tears fall, one after the other, as Binghe clutches the bowl of congee close to his chest, feeling the warmth of it bleed into his trembling fingers. How was that possible? What awful kind of hallucination felt so real? 

Binghe did not want to wake up from it.

Ever. 

“Ah!” The man says, a note of panic in his smooth voice, “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Do you really hate the idea of eating it so much?!”

“No,” Binghe says, “No, benefactor, this lowly one would be honored to eat this congee. It has just been a long, long time since someone has cooked for this one.”

Binghe stares at the bowl with blurry eyes, hearing a sharp intake of breath. Then, a warm hand (so, so warm) settles on his head, making Binghe turn sharply towards the man. 

This is too kind, too good, even for a hallucination.

“Ah, please, don’t refer to me so highly. Drop the formal speech too, I’m not so important. My name is Shen Yuan.” 

Quietly, Binghe tucks the name into his heart and vows never to forget it. 

There is a quiet, meaningful pause as Shen Yuan strokes his hand over Binghe’s hair. His smile grows softer.

“And I will cook for you as long as you’d like.”

Binghe’s eyes fall shut. It does nothing to stop the tears. 

His breath hitches in small, muffled sobs; Shen Yuan’s hand doesn’t leave his head, grounding him with its heavy weight.

“Thank you,” Binghe says, weak and exhausted and drained, when he finally finishes crying. Shen Yuan retracts his hand, and Binghe sorely misses it the moment it's gone. Really, he can’t keep the contact a little longer, even in a dream?

“No need, no need.” Shen Yuan nudges the bowl of congee. “You should eat. I left a heating talisman on it, so it’s still warm. I’ll get you some medicine.”

Shen Yuan walks away. Absurdly, Binghe wants to call him back, even though he knows he’s just going to be gone for a bit. 

Instead of that, Binghe picks up his spoon and carefully places some congee in his mouth. True to Shen Yuan’s word, the food is still warm, though not particularly flavorful. It’s a little overcooked; the meat is chewier than anything Binghe has ever had before, and the greens are ridiculously bitter. 

It’s the best meal Binghe has had since his mother died, because Shen Yuan cooked it. For him. Someone cooked for him.

… It can’t be real, can it? There’s no way. 

But the food settles in his stomach and flavors sit on his tongue; his feet are warm under the blanket and the fabric against his skin is soft. 

It feels real. It feels too real. 

Meng Mo, he calls hesitantly inside his mind, is this a dream?

After a second, an answer comes. No, Meng Mo replies. 

A hallucination, then?

No. 

Then what is it?

Kid, this is reality. 

Binghe stops. There is no way. Binghe knows the world, knows his life, knows his luck; someone as kind and good as Shen Yuan cannot possibly exist. Even if he did, there is no way Binghe would have the luck of meeting him. 

That’s not possible. 

If this was a hallucination, you wouldn’t be able to taste the food.

Then what of Shen Yuan? He can’t possibly be real.

Shen Yuan? 

Binghe conjures up the image of Shen Yuan inside his mind, just for a split second, and then vanishes it again. He feels… oddly possessive over the pretty visage of Shen Yuan smiling. 

Chill, kid, I’m not interested in men anyway. Keep him if you want. He’s real, though- minds can’t create faces from nothing. Every face in your dreamscape, even those that seem random, is one that you’ve seen before. I think you would remember, if you had met this precious Shen Yuan of yours before.

And you’re certain this is real? Binghe asks, a tendril of hope, of awe, growing in his beaten, shriveled little heart. 

Quite. 

Shen Yuan walks back in, smiling as he holds a cup in his hand. “Sorry I took a while, I had to prepare the powder into a tea.”

This time, Binghe surveys the smile with wonder, cataloging each curve, each wrinkle inside his head. Just in case it’s not real. Just in case there comes a day where he can’t see it anymore. 

Shen Yuan’s eyes are so kind , and Binghe can’t repress a shudder as he realizes oh, there is someone, someone real, who is kind to me. He sits there, frozen, and lets the thought settle into his brain like a little worm, biting a hole through the thick cloud of not-worth-good that has lived in his brain for a decade and then some. 

Then, he smiles back, bright and unrestrained. 

----------

When Binghe wakes up the second time, he’s still wrapped in warm blankets, still lying on soft pillows. 

It’s really not a dream. 

He sits up quietly, marveling at how little his wounds hurt. He hasn’t been this free of pain since… ever, actually. 

His eyes wander, taking in the little details he’d missed the first time he’d surveyed his surroundings. There are odd things, now that he really looks. 

Curtains of deep blue are drawn over what Binghe assumes is a window. A pot of innocuous silver flowers sits in front of it, and when Binghe squints, he realizes they’re releasing some kind of powder into the air, barely visible aside from the slight shimmer that occurs every few minutes. 

For a second, Binghe’s hackles rise, before he realizes that this is most likely Shen Yuan’s room; there wouldn’t be anything harmful diffused into the air if Shen Yuan was also spending time here. 

He relaxes again. The air smells fresh, like a field of grass after a cool rain. Binghe wonders if it’s the work of the flowers. There’s no demonic qi in the room, nothing to indicate that they’re still in the Endless Abyss. 

There are odd papers stuck to the walls; messy paintings of beasts, of plants, of places, pages of elegant writing in a language that Binghe has never seen before. A strange, circular thing made of metal rests on the papers of Shen Yuan’s desk. A quiet ticking comes from it, each sound in perfect time with the movement of a stick inside it. It has twelve markings; Binghe isn’t sure that they are. 

It’s strange. It’s very, very strange . 

Binghe wonders, with trickling fear and, embarrassingly, a bit (okay, more than a bit-) of excitement, who exactly Shen Yuan is. 

Naturally, this thought seems to summon the man, who comes barreling into the room right behind a streak of navy blue that pounces on Binghe faster than he can react. 

“A-mei, no!” Shen Yuan says as a heavy weight makes itself known on Binghe’s chest. Binghe startles, nearly throwing it off, but it clutches tight, claws digging into Binghe’s robes until he finally settles again.

…It’s a cat. Well, not exactly. The thing’s eyes are too intelligent, its claws too sharp, to be a regular cat. Its pelt is too vivid, too blue, the exact same shade as its eyes. Its pupils are white. It looks up at Binghe with something close to contempt, judgment clear on its face as it bares its too-pointy teeth. 

At first, Binghe thinks the odd little details are just mutations caused by being in the Endless Abyss for too long. Then, he looks a little closer at the white mark on its forehead and feels goosebumps raise on his skin as he realizes it's a demon mark . 

Suddenly, the pointy little claws held above his heart, digging into skin just little enough that it doesn’t bleed, feel like much more of a threat. 

Then Shen Yuan comes over, places his hands between the thing’s armpits and pulls it off of Binghe. The claws retract the moment Shen Yuan touches it, all the malice- and, Binghe suddenly notices, demonic energy- vanishing in a single second. 

The thing blinks at Shen Yuan with wide, glimmery eyes, a perfect picture of innocence. Binghe’s head is reeling. 

What the fuck . 

“Lanmei,” Shen Yuan scolds, and Binghe would’ve snorted at the name if he could bring himself to do anything other than stare. Blueberry . How cute. 

“What did I say about attacking things without permission?”

The thing- Lanmei- just blinks again, letting out a pitiful meow. “No, nuh-uh, you’re not getting out of this just by being cute. Look at the poor boy, you’ve scared him out of his wits!”

Binghe, following Lanmei’s lead, just blinks when Shen Yuan looks at him. Shen Yuan turns back to the thing with an I-told-you-so look on his face. Binghe finds it hopelessly endearing. 

Lanmei lets out another sad mewl, leaning forward to lick Shen Yuan’s cheek, and the man crumples like wet paper, all traces of irritation disappearing to leave only fondness. 

The cat-thing paws at Shen Yuan’s shoulder, so he sets it down there. It curls its lithe body around the man’s thin shoulders, its head tilted as it very attentively watches Binghe, tail swishing languidly in the air. 

Shen Yuan sighs.

“Sorry about her,” he says, sounding genuinely apologetic, “A-mei can’t stand anything stronger than her existing in my vicinity.”

“...She has a demon mark,” Binghe manages, finally. He supposes this explains why Shen Yuan doesn’t seem to care about the very obvious demon mark on Binghe’s own forehead. 

“Oh!” Shen Yuan says, perking up. “She does! She’s a Heavenly Demon’s Companion. I found her wandering the Abyss all battered and bruised. She was so dirty I didn’t even realize what species she was until I brought her home and cleaned her up. Isn’t she adorable? ” 

Shen Yuan then coos as he gently pets the thing on his shoulder. 

It nudges into his hand and purrs. 

Binghe desperately wants to scream. ADORABLE?! The Heavenly Demon’s Companions, if he remembers correctly, are some of the oldest and most dangerous creatures in existence. They were born from pieces of the first Heavenly demon’s soul. They take the unassuming form of regular cats to draw in hunters trying to kill it for their soft pelt, then grow to fifty times its size and devour them. Their pelts are invincible; their claws sharp enough to pierce obsidian. Their teeth contain a paralytic strong enough to keep down even an immortal. A single bite is all it takes to inject it.  

Aha. He’s going to die, isn’t he?

The companion clearly hates him. The companion is currently nuzzling Shen Yuan’s cheek while it side-eyes him. 

… The last companion was supposed to go into hibernation after the death of the first heavenly demon’s grandson. 

“My darling little A-mei,” Shen Yuan croons sweetly, smiling at the little thing, and wow Binghe did not know he could get jealous of a demonic beast until now. He wants to be Shen Yuan’s darling little A-Bing. 

His face heats up as he entertains the thought, imagines nuzzling into the pale skin of Shen Yuan’s round cheeks, imagines being called A-Bing . Wow. Yeah. That. 

Even imagining it makes his brain functions shut down abruptly. 

It is then that he realizes, holy shit, Shen Yuan still doesn’t know his name . 

“Luo Binghe,” He says, probably too rushed to come off as normal. Shen Yuan looks at him, confused. “This lowly one’s name is Luo Binghe. He didn’t tell Shen-qianbei yet. Shen-qianbei can call this one Binghe.”

“Oh,” Shen Yuan says, clearly taken aback. Still, he offers Binghe a smile that makes his heart skip a beat. “Binghe, then. But please, this one isn’t your qianbei. You needn’t be so formal."

Binghe . Binghe. Binghe. Wow. His name sounds- really, really good in Shen Yuan’s ever-soft voice. 

“How should I address you then?” His voice comes out oddly choked. Shen Yuan ignores it.

“Hmm,” Shen Yuan hums, tapping his chin. A teasing smile overtakes his face. “How about Yuan-ge , then, if you insist on calling me your senior?” 

Binghe’s brain, for the third time in less than half a shichen, abruptly freezes. 

“Yuan-ge,” he breathes, eyes blown wide. Lanmei hisses. Binghe can’t hear it over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. 

Yuan-ge, repeats in his head, his thoughts wholly overtaken by a single name. Wow. Is he dying? He thinks he might be dying. He thinks his face is hot enough that its color probably rivals that of marriage robes. How would Shen Yuan- Yuan-ge- look in marriage red? He kind of wants to see that. Is he moving too fast? He's not, right? This is a commitment. Shen Yuan is his gege now. Binghe is never ever letting this go ever. 

(Shen Yuan’s face twitches in surprise as he gains 500 happiness points. He was only teasing, but he's not going to take it back after that.

Aww, he thinks, Poor Binghe must be happy that someone is letting him address them so familiarly. )

When Binghe eventually recollects himself a little bit, his first thought is Take that, Lanmei, and he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed about the triumph he feels. 

Yuan-ge settles on a stool near the bed, moving Lanmei into his lap. His hand moves up and down the creature’s body, occasionally stopping to scratch and rub, and Binghe is immediately jealous again. “A-mei, go check on the shark-toothed deer for me, please. Come get me if there’s trouble.”

Lanmei meows, nudging her head into Yuan-ge’s palm. 

“Yes, yes, I’ll give you all the pets you want later. One of the deer is pregnant, though, so she’s being particularly aggressive. We don’t want her to accidentally destroy my forest, now do we?”

Yuan-ge speaks so softly , so kindly . Binghe wonders how someone so good can exist. He also wonders why Yuan-ge has shark-toothed deer in his forest. Aren’t they poisonous? And twice the size of regular deer?? And prone to destruction at the slightest provocation???

Binghe is very confused. Binghe is very much in awe. Is Shen Yuan a god? That might make sense. Actually, that would make perfect sense. Yuan-ge is certainly pretty enough to be a god. 

Lanmei huffs at the words, but does actually obey. She gives Binghe a particularly smug look before she leaps off of Yuan-ge’s lap and darts away. 

Is he competing for Yuan-ge’s attention with a particularly powerful cat now? Is that a thing? He won’t lose. He’ll make Lanmei regret the day she challenged him. Yuan-ge’s lap and pets will be his . Soon. Hopefully. 

Then Yuan-ge turns his attention to him, letting a smile grace his plump, pretty, very kissable lips, and Binghe decides that this is already more than enough. 

“How are you feeling?” Yuan-ge asks. 

“Fine,” Binghe answers. “Better with Yuan-ge here.”

Yuan-ge laughs lightly. “Such a flatterer. Save those skills for the women you want to woo, Binghe, and tell me genuinely if you are still hurt anywhere.”

Binghe wants to tell him that literally no woman could ever compare to him, that Yuan-ge’s smile is worth more to him than anything any girl could give him, that the one he wants to woo is Yuan-ge, but he figures that would be a bit much. He's only known the man for... what is it, two days? One?

“I’m alright, Yuan-ge. This is the least pain I’ve felt in a long while.”

Something akin to sadness flashes on Yuan-ge’s soft features. Too good, Binghe thinks. 

“You shouldn’t have to feel any pain at all,” Yuan-ge says, quietly, mournfully. 

Against his will, Binghe’s eyes fill up with tears. Too good. 

Silence hangs heavy between them. Binghe wrestles his emotions back in check, and offers a weak smile. “It’s only minor. I’ll heal. It’ll be gone within a day, I bet.”
Yuan-ge sighs, but accepts the deflection and moves past the topic. 

“Then, will you return to the human realm?” Yuan-ge asks, and Binghe hears the expectancy in his voice. His heart sinks a little, knowing that Yuan-ge wants him to leave. 

Initially, when he’d been laying on the ground, his body broken and his mind in a state of disarray, he’d wanted to go back, had burned to go back. He’d thought, I’ll survive. I’ll get stronger, I’ll survive, I’ll get out of here and I’ll tear the world apart. I’ll go back and I’ll tear Shizun apart limb from limb, so that he feels what I feel. I’ll go back and I’ll burn down everything that has ever hurt me and I’ll prove that I’m strong. 

Admittedly, his thoughts had been more scrambled and bloody than that, but they were hazy, now. That had been the general gist of it. 

Only two days later, the conviction and hatred he had thought to be branded into him were melting away, like a false skin. 

What waited for him in the human realm but hurt? What would revenge bring him except maybe some sick satisfaction? Even if he proves he’s strong- will it bring him happiness? Will it bring him warmth, like Yuan-ge does?

He still kind of wants revenge. He still hates his Shizun for never acknowledging him, right up to the end, still wants to destroy Cang Qiong for everything it has done to him. 

But if he can have this instead- this little hut in the middle of nowhere, with bamboo walls and wooden floors and warm lighting and a warm person to keep him company- he can let it go.

He wants to hear Yuan-ge’s laughter much, much more than he wants to hear the screams of those who have hurt him. 

“...Do I have to?”

Yuan-ge looks surprised, just for a second, before a radiant smile takes over his face. “Of course not! You can go wherever you like.”

“And if I want to stay here?” Binghe ventures, hesitant, eyes averted. Before Yuan-ge can reject him, he rushes to explain his worth. “I don’t know if I can help with your deer but I can cook! And clean! I can read and write too, a little bit, and I can hunt smaller creatures!”

“Ah, Binghe, you don’t have to do anything, I wasn’t going to say no. You can stay, if you’d like.”

Finally, Binghe looks up, and sees easy acceptance on Yuan-ge’s face. 

“Really?”

“Of course. Some company would be nice, honestly. It gets lonely around here, even with A-mei.”

Take that, Lanmei, Binghe thinks again, before immediately making a vow to himself to never let Yuan-ge be lonely again. 

“Then I’ll always keep you company!” Binghe says excitedly, “I promise I’ll earn my place here, Yuan-ge!”

Yuan-ge shakes his head, looking amused. “What did I just say, huh? Binghe doesn’t have to earn anything. The place is already his to keep.”

Binghe stares at Yuan-ge, eyes shining. Yuan-ge is the best thing to ever happen to him. Yuan-ge is so good , so kind , and Binghe will never let anything taint that. 

Now that he has a place by Yuan-ge’s side, where he can protect him, the man will never suffer again. He guarantees it. 

Yuan-ge leans back a little, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Though, I suppose I will have to make a trip to the human realm… I don’t have anywhere near enough supplies to support a second human for long. I don’t even have another bed!”

We can share, sits right at the tip of Binghe’s tongue. He swallows it down. 

“I’ll come,” He says quickly. 

“I thought you wanted to stay?”

Binghe nods vigorously. “En, I want to stay. I want to stay by Yuan-ge's side.”

Binghe watches, with no small amount of awe, as Yuan-ge’s pretty, full cheeks pinken, his gaze averting from Binghe’s. 

“Oh,” he says, quiet and obviously surprised. “Okay. I’d…” Yuan-ge’s eyes flick back up to his, and Binghe finds that he can’t look away from endless depths of soft green, from the kindness and genuinity that fills them. “I’d like that.”

Is Binghe in love? Binghe thinks he's in love. His heart is too full for this not to be love.

He thinks he wants it to be love. He wants to love this kind, pretty man who has saved him from the relentless suffering of his life.

(He wants to know that, even as a filthy demon, he can love this pure, pretty thing. If Lanmei can do it, surely he can too?)

Chapter Text

Wind slaps Binghe harshly in the face yet again as his dopey smile widens. Yuan-ge darts to one side, landing a kick on the gigantic eight-pincered crab he’s fighting. Yuan-ge is so pretty when he fights. 

His movements are elegant, well practiced, and ruthlessly efficient. They’re also very characteristically gentle, only ever as forceful as required. 

Yuan-ge jumps into the air, landing on a ledge at the side of the Abyss before leaping off it, even higher, and delivering another swift kick right to the top of its head. 

The crab collapses entirely, going boneless, and Yuan-ge drifts back to the ground. His robes flutter behind him, the white fabric smudged with dust. Binghe’s smile widens. He sighs, feeling rather lovesick. Yuan-ge is much too pretty for his poor heart to handle. He wonders how he's survived an entire month of seeing such a breathtaking man everyday. Surely he should be dead by now, just going off of the amount of times his heart has started beating ridiculously fast in the other's vicinity. 

“Binghe,” Yuan-ge chides. Binghe prepares to use his best puppy eyes. “You said you wanted to fight the eight-pincered crab.”

“I did,” Binghe agrees shamelessly. 

“So. Why exactly. Did you not even try to land a single hit on it.”

“Yuan-ge was just so distracting , I got caught up watching Yuan-ge fight! He just looked too cool for me to step in…” Binghe says, eyes wide in an imitation of Lanmei’s. 

He feels a smug, smug, satisfaction as he thinks of the creature. Yuan-ge had left her back at the bamboo house to take care of things, afraid his forest of beasts(!!!) and his garden of demonic plants(!!!!!!!) would fall into disarray if he left them unattended for too long. It was just him and Yuan-ge, all alone, on their trip to the human realm. Binghe was getting breathless just thinking about it. 

Take that, Lanmei. 

Yuan-ge only sighs, shaking his head. The neat little ponytail tied at the back of his head, just barely reaching past his shoulders, sways with the motion. 

“That’s what you said the last time,” he says tiredly, “and the one before that.”

Binghe pulls out the puppy eyes. Yuan-ge stares for a second, looking conflicted, before he mutters something about there being two of them and turns away. 

He returns to the crab’s side, pulling some kind of salve out of his sleeve and spreading it over all the places he’d hit, as he’d done with each beast they’d fought before this.

Yuan-ge really was too good.

He rummages inside his sleeve, bending and squinting to see inside it, before he finally pulls out a big, dead fish. Binghe does not want to know why Yuan-ge had that in there.

… How did he smell like flowers and books when he carried dead fish inside his sleeves?! Binghe is terrified of this man. Binghe is so curious it threatens to kill him inside. 

Yuan-ge holds the fish right in front of the eight-pincered crab’s nose. Right above its mouth, which is as big as Yuan-ge’s torso. 

There is not a single trace of fear in his eyes. Binghe is ridiculously turned on. 

Eventually, the creature’s eyes blink open, immediately narrowing onto the fish held out to it. It doesn’t lunge for it, though, instead eyeing Yuan-ge with something like suspicion. 

“An apology,” Yuan-ge offers, smiling, “An offering . I only wanted to defend . I was protecting . I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

There are certain words Yuan-ge places emphasis on; when he says them, there is an odd, otherworldly quality to his voice. It’s low, raw, echoing loudly in the empty, jagged corner of the Abyss. Something in Binghe understands , on a deeper level than just coherency. It’s almost... a feeling. Something that reaches deep, deep down to speak to the basest parts of him. Binghe shudders at the feeling.

The crab blinks again. This time, it hesitantly leans forward, and takes a bite- by which he means it swallows about half the fish in one go.

Yuan-ge reaches out, slowly, deliberately. “ Won’t hurt ,” he says in his odd echo-ey tone when it freezes, and the creature lets him advance again. A part of Binghe relaxes when he hears it. 

By the time it has finished the fish, the beast that is at least three times Yuan-ge’s size has become putty in his hands, leaning into each touch, happily nuzzling into the gentle pats on its head. 

Binghe is not jealous. He’s not . 

Okay, he is partly jealous. Half of him desperately wants to be the crab. The other half is just wondering how Yuan-ge manages to subdue demonic beasts of great caliber and turn them into little housepets every time he meets them. 

Is it some god-given gift? Is Yuan-ge secretly the god of demons? Is there a god of demons? Binghe doesn’t know. Literally every possibility he can come up with seems plausible. 

Yuan-ge is a mystery wrapped in an enigma with an impenetrable layer of kindness right on top. It’s much more endearing than it probably should be. 

“Yuan-ge,” Binghe interrupts. “Can we get going now? You said it’d probably take at least another week to find the spacial rift.”

“Oh!” Yuan-ge says, perking up from where he’s cooing compliments at the crab. “Right! Sorry, I got distracted. This one is just so cute. It has freckles! Oh, Binghe, you should come closer and see for yourself! Freckled crabs are very rare! They actually turn into black-starred mushrooms when they die, did you know that?!”

Yuan-ge sounds giddily excited, just as he sounds every time they encounter a new creature. Binghe is so gone for this man. 

“That’s incredible, Yuan-ge. Tell me more,” Binghe encourages. Yuan-ge slips away from the crab, waving it goodbye when it makes a mournful sound, and continues to rattle off facts about the freckled eight-pincer crab as Binghe leads him towards the cave they’d set up temporary shelter in. 

Ah, Yuan-ge was too cute. Literally everything seemed to fall in love with him. Binghe could certainly relate, but at the same time, he wanted Yuan-ge to be his and only his. 

All in due time , he reminds himself, content to stare at the happy glimmer in Yuan-ge’s eyes as he rambles for now.

Chapter Text

It takes them two months to find a spacial rift that’s open. Shen Yuan honestly expected it to take much longer, but he lucked out. Of the all the rifts he'd found and mapped long ago, the second one they visited was still somehow open.

Perhaps it was the protagonist halo’s work. 

Which, speaking of the protagonist, his whole glow-up strengthening arc just… did not seem to be happening. At all. 

In fact, Binghe seemed to enjoy it when some monster he was fighting overpowered him and Shen Yuan had to step in. 

It was really fucking weird to indulge the idea that he was somehow stronger than the protagonist, so Shen Yuan was kind of just… ignoring it. For now, at least. The system didn’t seem to have any problem with Binghe not fighting or suffering, so it would probably be fine.

Besides, when he’d asked if Binghe wanted to be strong…

(“Don’t you want to get stronger, Binghe?” Shen Yuan asks, carefully wiping blood off of Binghe’s scratched cheek. He means for it to come out indifferent, perhaps curious, but his concern leaks through.

Binghe’s gaze burns into him, even as Shen Yuan avoids his eyes. 

“Does Yuan-ge want me to be strong?” He asks, his voice low and quiet. 

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Shen Yuan replies automatically, “I’m just… curious.” 

He doesn’t tell Binghe that he’s concerned; doesn’t tell him that even though he’d taken the time to teach Binghe some proper cultivation techniques, he fears it won’t be enough against the powerful enemies waiting outside the Abyss.

Binghe hums. 

“The only reason I could have to be strong is to protect Yuan-ge,” he says, “And Yuan-ge doesn’t need protection. He is much stronger than I could ever hope to be.”

Shen Yuan… really does not want to address that, or the way his cheeks are burning at the sultry tone in Binghe’s voice, or the still-choking fear that someone will attack and Binghe will get seriously hurt just because Shen Yuan foiled his training arc. 

So he doesn’t.) 

In hindsight, he probably should’ve done more to convince Binghe to work on his strength. Unfortunately, he’s already here, standing in front of a spacial rift to god-knows-where in the demon realm, so it’s a bit late for that. 

Besides, he can’t really deny that he kind of a little bit likes it when Binghe relies on him. 

It also gets him a ton of happiness points, so he figures he can’t complain all that much. 

Shen Yuan turns to Binghe, his eyes catching on all the small differences in his appearance caused by the illusion talisman. His frame looks smaller, leaner, and his features are softer. The vivid red demon mark is gone, which is rather disappointing, but even with all the changes, Binghe is ludicrously pretty.

Internally, Shen Yuan huffs. As expected, the protagonist can never be anything short of extraordinarily attractive.

“Are you ready?” Shen Yuan asks, reaching over to grab Binghe’s hand where it is looped in immortal binding cables. 

Binghe stiffens, just for a split second, and then relaxes.

<+10 Happiness Points>

At this point, Shen Yuan isn’t even surprised. Physical touch always seems to get him some amount of happiness points. Ah, his poor touch-starved little sheep. No wonder he’d had such a large harem. 

“Yes, Yuan-ge,” Binghe replies, beaming at him. 

“You have all your talismans on? You remember our cover story?”

Their cover story is that Shen Yuan is a demon working for the lord of the south, and Binghe is the cultivator he has captured specifically for the lord to eat. It’s a little vulgar, but Shen Yuan will do what he has to do. 

He would disguise Binghe as a demon too, but demonic-energy creating talismans require a constant input of spiritual energy to work, and sapping Binghe’s spiritual energy too much could cause a dangerous imbalance in his system. 

So demonic-energy absorbing talismans it was. 

Binghe nods, his curls flopping with the action. 

Cute , Shen Yuan thinks, and then summarily represses the thought as much as he possibly can. He should not be having such thoughts about the man who trusts him so much! It is definitely a violation, even if Binghe seems to really like it when Shen Yuan compliments him! 

Shen Yuan shakes his head as if that will rid his brain of the thoughts, and with a deep breath, steps out of the Abyss for the first time in a decade. 

---------

Watching Yuan-ge traverse the little demon city they find themselves in is endlessly fascinating. There is that excited gleam in his eye that Binghe has come to adore, and he often stops at stalls or in front of odd plants, his eyes catching on demons with strange features. He looks like a child in front of a toy stall, but he refuses to outright show his enthusiasm, which is a crime, honestly. 

Sure, Binghe gets it, demons tend to take advantage of every tiny weakness presented to them, but still. He wants to see excited rambly Shen Yuan in all his glory. 

They make their way through the city rather easily, only drawing a few odd looks, and end up in front of an inn that looks halfway to decay. Yuan-ge tugs him inside by the immortal binding cables looped around Binghe’s wrists. 

Which. Binghe was. A little into. Okay, a lot into. Binghe’s breath caught every time Yuan-ge so much as pulled on the things, even lightly. It was very ridiculous. He was just… ignoring any and all reactions his body might be having. If he doesn’t think about it, it doesn’t exist. 

As he enters the inn, he shoves his thoughts aside to act like the terrified cultivator he’s supposed to be, staring at the demons in the inn with faked fear.

“Pretty human you got there,” The demon at the check-in counter purrs, their wide blue eyes going half-lidded, “Smells powerful, too. I’ll give you five nights of free stay for him.” 

The demon looks like they could be a human themselves, if not for the shimmery cerulean scales that dot their face and neck. They’re pretty, with long black hair and sharp cheekbones. Binghe immediately dislikes them because no one except Yuan-ge can ever have him. 

“Back off,” Yuan-ge growls, and wow that’s attractive. Binghe is discovering more about himself today than he ever wanted to know. (Although, a part of him siezes, freezing in fear and hatred, because with cruelty on his face, Shen Yuan looks a lot like- no. no. He’s nothing like him. ) “He’s my catch . He’s going straight to the demon lord of the south, so don’t even think about trying to steal him.”

His catch. His catch. His. 

Binghe's brain immediately ceases all functions. He can't do anything but scream internally and stand there with his eyes blown wide. 

Yuan-ge called him his . Sure, it had been for their story, but it had still come out of Yuan-ge’s mouth. Binghe still heard it.  

And Binghe was still very much having a minor breakdown over it. No big deal. It’s not as if all he’s ever wanted is to be someone else’s, to be protected and shielded and taken care of , to be claimed , acknowledged . Of course not. 

He regains his senses only when a door clicks quietly behind him and Yuan-ge heaves out a relieved sigh.

"God," Yuan-ge bemoans, "That was awful. I never want to act again in my life."

Privately, Binghe thinks that was the very opposite of awful, actually. Outwardly, he only chuckles, frantically pulling himself back together after... that. 

Without saying anything else, because his tongue still feels heavy in his dry mouth, Binghe observes the room he'd been led into. The smell of damp wood tickles his nose; distantly, he swears he hears screaming. Still, it's a nice enough room, spacious, clean, and fairly well-decorated. 

Disappointingly, there are two beds.

Binghe wonders if he can get away with sneaking into Yuan-ge’s bed for warmth as he had done in the caves they’d slept in for the past two months.  Perhaps his blankets would accidentally get lost. Now that would be such a tragedy.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan blinks his crusty eyelids open, shivering as cold air hits his thinly clothed body. 

… That’s not right. Binghe had climbed into his bed, complaining about being unable to sleep, and had promptly curled his large, warm body into Shen Yuan’s arms. Shen Yuan knew for a fact that nothing short of a life threatening event could pry Binghe from him when he decided to cling. 

The room he’s in is dark, shadows made from the sparse lighting dancing in the corners of his eyes. As awareness returns to him, Shen Yuan realizes he’s bound, kneeling on a cold stone floor. The air smells like blood. He can’t use his qi. 

As subtly as he can manage, Shen Yuan tilts his head up, trying to get a good look at where he is, and freezes. 

A throne. He’s bound a little ways in front of a spiky throne of red and gold, decorated with lavish cushions and embedded with rubies. 

Standing in front of the throne is Sha Hualing . One of Binghe’s most influential harem members, daughter of a demon lord. She’s dressed scantily, red gauze hanging off her pale skin, black hair drawn carefully away from her delicate face, just as Shen Yuan had imagined her. 

It’s odd, though; Shen Yuan had always rather liked Sha Hualing’s aesthetic, but looking at her now… he doesn’t feel as excited as he probably should. 

She just looks young to him- like a child. Well, he supposes she is one. It’s strange, to reconcile to girl who’d seduced and killed and tortured with this seventeen year old that still hasn’t shed all the baby fat on her cheeks. 

There is a curious, sharp smile on her painted lips as she leans down, her face barely a few inches from Binghe’s. 

Binghe, weirdly enough, doesn’t seem to be interested at all. In fact, he’s glaring venomously at Sha Hualing, his lips pulled down into a vicious scowl. He leans away from her searching eyes. She leans further forward. 

Ah, it makes sense; really, Shen Yuan should’ve expected this to happen at some point. Binghe had caught Sha Hualing’s attention at the attack on Cang Qiong Sect she had led. Shen Yuan had forgotten about that plot point. Abruptly, he remembers the one just before it, and hopes that Liu Kai- No, Liu Qingge , is still alive. 

He’s not quite sure how Sha Hualing knew where Binghe was, or even how she knew it was Binghe in the first place, but he figures she has her ways. Daughter of a demon lord and all. 

Which, again, is really strange. Where is her dad?! Isn’t this his throne room??

Internally, Shen Yuan sighs. Subdue first, talk later, he supposes. It’s worked for him so far. He hopes it won’t fail him now. 

Carefully, he circulates his qi, resisting the effects of the immortal binding cables, and injects as much of it as he can into them with a single burst. 

Quietly, they snap, and Shen Yuan’s spiritual energy returns to him. 

Sha Hualing is saying something to Binghe, who snarls in response. Shen Yuan pays it no mind. Instead, he whips out a fan from his sleeve- an old, old thing that he hadn’t used in years. It was hard to, when each time he opened it, he was bombarded by a memory that didn’t belong to him, one of teaching a young boy with clumsy hands and carefully hidden excitement- a young boy who would go on to be an awful, abusive piece of shit . 

He waves the fan in an elegant, practiced motion, sending two powerful waves of wind towards the backs of Sha Hualing’s exposed knees, making her crumple to the ground and fall into Binghe’s bound body. 

Ah , Shen Yuan thinks, the wife halo is truly so powerful. There is an odd, squirmy feeling in his gut. It must be because they’re so young. After all, it’s one thing to read underage seduction- it’s entirely another to watch it happen. 

The squirminess increases, guilt mixing with it as he thinks of Qin Wanyue and the protagonist’s awful, half-counting-as-rape first time. He hadn’t even considered that as one of the things he had to fix. 

Although, it’s not as if  he could’ve done anything about it, even if he’d remembered to. The system had warned him against interfering with key plot points , stating them essential for protagonist satisfaction. His whole purpose for being here was to give Binghe a happy ending, but he still wasn’t allowed to stop the endless slough of suffering the protagonist had to endure to get stronger. 

Actually, now that he thought about it, it was really weird that the system hadn’t said anything about how quickly they’d left the Abyss, or how little fighting Binghe had done. 

Shen Yuan is snapped out of his thoughts when Binghe pushes Sha Hualing off him even with his hands and feet tightly bound. Some of the turmoil eases. Quickly, he makes his way over to them, pulling Sha Hualing into a kneeling position, her thin wrists captured in one of his hands. After a moment of hesitance, he uses his feet to keep her legs pinned down. 

As much as he hates the idea of treating a child like this, he knows better than to underestimate Sha Hualing. She had been one of the only strong female characters in Proud Immortal Demon Way, but she had played her role well. Even young and chubby cheeked, she was undoubtedly dangerous. That much was clear from the vicious way she struggled in Shen Yuan’s grip. It was actually getting hard to keep her in check, especially with all the biting insults she was throwing his way, but he managed. 

<Protagonist Blackening +10%!> 

A divot appears between Shen Yuan’s eyebrows. Ah, Binghe, really, you’re angry at this old man treating your future wife badly even when he’s trying to help you?! You like her so much already? This one is sorry! But he kind of has to do this unless he wants to be clawed to death!

He forcefully smooths it back out. With a placid expression, he throws his fan towards Binghe’s feet. The steel at its tips rips cleanly through the material of the cables wound around them. 

The fan then whips through the air, still spinning, and returns to Shen Yuan’s hand like a boomerang. He waves it in front of his face a few times, feeling very cool, and then snaps it shut. 

“Binghe, come here,” he orders. The boy obeys, stumbling to his feet and hurrying over. “Hold out your hands.”

When Binghe’s pale, bound wrists are shoved towards him, Shen Yuan makes quick work of the knots tying them together. Really , he thinks, You’d have to do better than that to keep the protagonist himself bound. Deep crimson falls away to reveal skin chafed red and raw, and Shen Yuan feels anger twist in his gut. 

With precise, efficient movements, he bends down and ties the unraveled ropes around Sha Hualing’s wrists, perhaps a bit tighter than strictly needed. 

“Now, now, be quiet,” Shen Yuan says blandly, interrupting Sha Hualing’s furious tirade. “You’re in a rather compromising situation, if you can’t tell. Insults aren’t going to help.”

That gives the girl pause, and in the next second, it’s as if a switch has been flipped. 

“Ling-er was only curious about the pretty boy accompanying you,” she says, sweet as honey, “Please forgive her for losing control of her temper.”

There is a slight purr to her voice, the cadence half-mocking and half-placating. Shen Yuan only shakes his head. If she wants to act innocent, she should at least learn to act well. 

“There are better methods for gaining attention, Saintess Sha,” Shen Yuan responds. “The kidnapping was not very appreciated.”

“This Ling-er was not expecting the boy to have such strong protection. She was hoping to offer it herself,” Sha Hualing says. Shen Yuan knows very well that this is a bald-faced lie. Sha Hualing would never take on a spouse weaker than her; the only reason she was interested in Binghe was because she knew he had the potential to be her protection.

Binghe huffs haughtily. “I have more than enough protection. As you can tell. I’m not interested in your offer.”

Shen Yuan cringes internally. Binghe, no need to be a tsundere! Your future wife doesn’t actually think you’re weak!

“Yes, yes, Ling-er has seen,” She says, twisting a bit to look at Shen Yuan. Her eyes fix on his, and she freezes. A smile, saccharine sweet, overtakes her features. “This Ling-er is not against sharing.”

She bats her crimson eyes, demurely looking up at Shen Yuan through thick lashes. 

What, Shen Yuan thinks, blinking down at her, the actual fuck.

She can’t possibly mean what she thinks he means, right? Right?! What’s with that look? 

“This Binghe very much is,” Binghe bites out aggressively. Shen Yuan relaxes a little. Of course, the protagonist is right there! Even if Sha Hualing wants- wants to- share- the protagonist would never let one of his wives have another spouse!

Sha Hualing sighs, turning to Binghe. “A shame, really, I have so much to offer. Riches, power, security- all you could possibly want. Won’t you consider it, at least?”

“No,” Binghe replies immediately. “I have no need for such things.”

“Is there nothing I could give that you would be interested in?”

“No,” Binghe says again, this time with finalty. His eyes flit to Shen Yuan for a brief second, and Sha Hualing’s eyes trace the movement. When he speaks, his voice is soft. “I already have everything I could ever need.”

Sha Hualing’s mouth falls open into an O, and her seductive mask falls away. 

“I understand,” she says, “But I won’t give up. One day, I will convince you.”

“You can try.”

Is Shen Yuan missing something? Because he absolutely does not know what’s going on. What did Sha Hualing understand? What are they even talking about at this point? What does Binghe mean by I already have everything I could ever need?! 

(The words suffuse warmth into Shen Yuan's chest, pleasant and tingly as it spreads through his body-)

“Yuan-ge, let’s go,” Binghe says coldly, turning away. Perplexed, Shen Yuan can only nod, carefully getting off of Sha Hualing. 

“Yuan-ge, hm?” Sha Hualing says, “I’ll keep that in mind. Yuan-ge and Binghe.”

Binghe whirls back around, a vicious snarl on his face. His demonic qi flares, overloading the talisman. His eyes turn blood red at the edges.

“Call him that again and I’ll rip out your tongue,” He growls. 

<Protagonist Blackening +10%!>

Shen Yuan stares. Sha Hualing laughs. “Oh, I knew there was something about you! Part demon, huh? How interesting!”

Binghe looks at her impassively. “You will address him as Immortal Master Shen . Call him anything else and you’ll never speak again. Half-demon as I may be, I am confident that I could destroy you. Do you understand?” 

Maybe it’s the tone of voice; maybe it’s the dead serious expression on Binghe’s face; maybe it’s both; either way, something makes Sha Hualing aware that the threat is entirely genuine. She quiets, fear visible on her face for a split second before it clears.

“Sure, sure, whatever you want. I don’t like cutesy nicknames much anyway,” Sha Hualing says airily, the nervous undertone to her voice painfully easy to hear. 

Without another word, Binghe spins around, grabs Shen Yuan’s arm, and practically drags him out of the dark hall. His qi flow calms, the miasmic energy retracting again. 

He glares viciously at the guards that try to stop them. Shen Yuan does nothing but follow, his head still reeling from the events. How was he meant to process all of that?! 

“...What was that , Binghe?” The air is stale and coppery, the hallways eerily empty as Shen Yuan and Binghe make their way through them. He’s not really sure where they’re going. Does Binghe even know the way out? Are they going to stay lost in here forever?

“Apologies, Yuan-ge. This one… lost control when he heard that woman say your name so mockingly.” 

Binghe says that woman as if it’s a curse, practically spitting the words out. 

Excuse him? Binghe got mad at one of his wives because of him?! Were they that close? Shen Yuan supposes it’s a good thing; the original Luo Binghe hadn’t had any friends. 

It had been a rather sad thing, really, that he’d never known platonic affection after his mother had died. Surely he was making things better, making Binghe happier , or the System would say something, right?!

Internally, Shen Yuan nods. Of course. He’s definitely right. It's good that Binghe likes him so much! 

Although, honestly, he's more confused about the whole conversation that had happened before the whole “I’ll rip out your tongue” thing.

“What were you and Sha Hualing discussing before then, anyway? I was rather confused. Why did you refuse her offer?”

At that, Binghe stops in his tracks and just stares at Shen Yuan, eyes filled with disbelieving exasperation. Shen Yuan stares back, endlessly bewildered. 

“Of course,” Binghe mutters, huffing a little laugh, “I should’ve known you wouldn’t realize.” 

<+20 Happiness Points! Protagonist Blackening -5%!>

The tenseness in his shoulders seems to ease, the remnants of red fading from his irises. Shen Yuan gets the distinct feeling that he’s done something right, although he has no idea what.

“Binghe!” He scolds (scolds, definitely, not whines). Lightly, he pokes Binghe’s cheek. Ahh, so squishy, so soft! “Explain!”

“Don’t worry about it, Yuan-ge,” Binghe says, flashing him a charming smile. Shen Yuan is just about to press more when he hears a quiet squeak- like one of a mouse. 

His eyes light up. Could it be? A cloud-tailed blood seeker?! He hadn’t seen one in so long! On top of that, they would be ridiculously helpful in this situation! This must be the power of the protagonist halo!

System! He calls in his mind, Deposit a knife and a bowl into my sleeve from my inventory.

That, in particular, had been a very pricey feature, but the link between his endlessly spacious inventory and his sleeve was well worth it. 

<Items: 1 Steel Knife, 1 Wooden Bowl have been deposited into Host’s sleeve.>

He shoots a quick thanks to the System before he bends and stares into the silky sleeve of his outer robes, ruffling around a bit before he finds the items. 

Binghe makes a confused noise, but Shen Yuan only shushes him. 

“Trust me,” he whispers, and Binghe doesn’t speak again. 

With careful hands, Shen Yuan slices a cut in his palm, letting blood flow into he wooden bowl for a bit before circulating his qi and closing the wound. Binghe makes a strangled protest, but Shen Yuan quickly quiets him with a hand on his mouth.

Cloud-taied blood seekers had been one of the more intriguing species in the original PIDW novel, pack creatures with higher intelligence than most of Airplane’s actual human characters. They were native to the demon realm, fed blood by demons to sate them and essentially form a kind of symbiotic relationship. 

However, the blood that demons fed the little things was often old and stale, leading the creatures to migrate to the human realm and infest villages and cities. They were terrifyingly adept at hiding, and could drain a human of blood with only a single bite. They were also fucking adorable! 

Sure enough, as the scent of blood wafts through air, sharp and metallic, a small animal scuttles out of a corner. The blood seeker’s gray fur shines red in the palace’s lighting, looking criminally fluffy. Its cloud-shaped tail bounces behind it as it stops in front of Shen Yuan’s offering and begins to lap up the blood. 

When it finishes, it noses Shen Yuan’s hand, softness brushing against his skin. Shen Yuan opens his palm with a little smile and allows the blood seeker to lap up the remnants of blood staining his palms. He coos when the hamster-faced creature lets him pet it; the fur is even softer than it looks, luxurious and warm underneath his fingers. 

He can feel Binghe's eyes boring into his neck; he wonders what that's about. ( Binghe, meanwhile, wallows in his jealousy.)

“Hi there,” He whispers, “Can you get us out of here?”

Shen Yuan wonders if he should use the broken bits of demon language he knows to communicate with the seeker’s base instincts, but before he can try, the little thing in front of him squeaks in agreement and begins to run off. 

Unceremoniously, Shen Yuan shoves the bowl and knife back into his sleeve and rises to his feet. 

“C’mon, let’s go!” He says, grabbing Binghe’s hand as he runs after the blood seeker, paying it no mind when Binghe intertwines their fingers together. 

Well, not too much mind. (Binghe’s palm is large and rough and calloused and his fingers fit so well with Shen Yuan’s and-)

Nope. Not thinking about it. That’s the protagonist right there! Shen Yuan should not be thinking about how nice it is to hold his hand as they’re escaping from his future wife's palace!

<+30 Happiness Points!> 

Ah, whatever, Shen Yuan thinks, tightening his grip on Binghe’s hand. Perhaps it’s alright for him to like it a little; perhaps it’s alright to indulge, if it makes Binghe happy.

Chapter Text

Absurdly, getting kidnapped becomes a daily part of Shen Yuan’s life. At this point, it’s honestly a surprise if he doesn’t wake up bound and occasionally stripped down to his inner robes. 

Shen Yuan’s morning’s have thus become formulaic; open his eyes to some random minor villain monologuing about using him and Binghe to gain Sha Hualing’s favor, easily break through his bindings, defeat the cannon fodder in a single move, and rescue Binghe. Who, mind you, definitely doesn’t need rescuing! 

Seriously, it’s as if all the wife plots that would usually be reserved for Binghe’s wives are happening to him instead, and he doesn’t even get to be whisked away by the strong, all-powerful protagonist! No, he has to play the role of both the damsel in distress and the knight in shining armor! It’s ridiculous!

… It’s also really cute when Shen Yuan “saves” Binghe and the boy looks at him like he’s hung the stars in the sky. 

Aside from the kidnapping, Shen Yuan and Binghe’s journey through the demon realm goes fairly well. Although their faces are now known in a lot of cities, they’ve also earned enough of a reputation to not be turned away. As a plus, they can finally drop their cover story. (Binghe had seemed oddly disappointed about that. Weird.)

Really, the only hard part is getting through the borderlands. The expanse is barren, only sparsely populated, and crawling with demonic beasts of a wide range of power and consciousness. 

That in and of itself isn’t a problem; after all, it’s just a less deadly version of the Abyss. 

The problem is that the beasts here have had extensive contact with both humans and demons before; they are mistrustful and hurt and angry. They are near impossible to reason with. 

Even the tongue of demons- an ancient, powerful tool, a way to form connection and communicate with demonic creatures in a way that transcends any other form of language- is not enough. 

Even when Shen Yuan pours his whole heart and soul into forming that emotional connection that is the prerequisite for being heard, even when he imbues all the sincerity he has into the few words he knows how to say, even then it is not enough. 

So Shen Yuan has to kill. 

It is an awful, cruel thing. In this world, it’s not really unusual, and is in fact celebrated to kill such ruthless beings. 

But Shen Yuan isn’t from this world. Shen Yuan’s heart hurts and throbs every time he has to watch the life burn out of a previously breathing thing, no matter how mutilated. Shen Yuan feels guilt when that life is taken by him, whether his hands are stained black or red. 

Blood is still blood, no matter its color, and a life is still a life, no matter what it belonged to. 

So it is a huge, overwhelming relief to finally step into the human realm. 

And oh, how he’s missed it. It’s day; the sky is blue, dotted with fluffy clouds. The sun is bright, dappling the dark brown of the earth with gold. In the distance, he can see a forest painted shades of vibrant green. 

Everything is so light. So pretty. He’d missed this. 

Ten years, he’d kept himself from coming back here. Ten years, he’d held knowledge of the locations of four out of the five existing spacial rifts in the Endless Abyss. They were, essentially, the only way to escape other than Xin Mo, unless you wanted to try and climb the impossibly high walls of the Abyss when it opened. 

And he’d known. He’d known where they were. Sure, they automatically closed and opened somewhere new the moment someone used them. Sure, it would've been hard to make this journey without anyone beside him. But he’d known. 

And for ten years, no matter how nice his life in his little cottage was, he’d yearned to return. If only for a little bit, if only for long enough to taste food not bought from the System, if only for long enough to talk to an actual human being again. 

He’d abstained, but only because of the System, because it told him he could permanently damage Binghe’s ability to be happy (and, consequently, die ) if he accidentally ended up interfering too early. 

And now he’s here. He’s back. 

Without any care for grace or poise, Shen Yuan lets himself crumple to the ground, shifting until he’s sitting with his legs crossed. He tips his head up and looks at the sky. Blue. 

A grin worms its way onto his face. He breathes in. The air is sharp and cool, smelling faintly of grass. The scent of iron does not linger. He breathes out, lets himself dig his fingers into the rough soil beneath his palms- brown soil . And then, feeling as if his heart is about to burst from the sheer amount of things he’s feeling, he laughs. 

It’s- freeing. Like he’s unlocked one of the neat little boxes he stores his emotions in and let the contents flood out. He’s laughing, and it’s easy, and the world is bright, and the sky is blue. 

He turns his head to Binghe, looks at his bewildered, entranced expression through the curved slits of his eyes, and reaches a hand up to tug the boy down with him. 

“Sit with me,” he implores, his laughter fading to a wild grin, carefree for the moment. “The sky is beautiful today.”

Binghe watches him intensely, and Shen Yuan is just too light to care about it, really. His gaze doesn’t leave Shen Yuan, even as he lowers himself to the ground. 

Shen Yuan’s eyes flit away, staring at the sky- blue, blue, blue -, unbothered by Binghe’s stare. 

“Yes,” Binghe agrees as Shen Yuan’s eyes slip shut, his heart at peace. “It’s beautiful.”

<-10% Protagonist Blackening!>

Chapter Text

Binghe has been dumb . So, so, so dumb . He’d let Yuan-ge protect him, had been complacent and content to be the one rescued. It was just- so nice, to be taken care of, to know someone would be there even when he was weak and helpless. 

To know he was worth being protected, for nothing more than just who he was. 

But he hadn’t stopped to think about what that meant for Yuan-ge . After all, Yuan-ge was strong, ridiculously so, and seemed to be able to win fights with barely any actual fighting.

The thing was, Yuan-ge was also undeniably soft . And actually killing things- that was something he clearly hated. But he’d had to. He’d had to, because Binghe was weak and couldn’t do it instead. 

It had been immensely painful to watch Yuan-ge withdraw further and further into himself every time he had to kill a beast as they made their way through the borderlands.

Binghe couldn’t find any joy in watching Yuan-ge fight, not when he looked at the aftermath with devastation in his eyes.

Binghe has been dumb. 

But he won’t be, not any longer. He’ll get stronger, strong enough that Yuan-ge will never have to kill anything again, strong enough that any creature with a shred of sense will know to run when they see him. He’ll make sure Yuan-ge’s eyes only ever hold contentment and happiness, the way they do now, as he wanders through a dusty, old bookstore. 

One of his hands waves in the air with an unbridled kind of excitement disguised as annoyance, the other carefully holding a leather-bound book. 

“And really, even from the summary I can tell this book is filled to the brim with cliches. I mean, the main character is an undefeated god! Talk about Mary Sue! There’s like, no conflict at all aside from a love triangle, and even there, it’s so obvious who the main character will choose! Like, seriously, so predictable! So overused! So dumb!” Yuan-ge rants, delicately placing the book onto the growing pile in Binghe’s arms. 

Fondness grows in Binghe’s smile as he watches his favorite person carefully scanning over books like it’s unbelievably important that he sees every detail. 

In his mind’s eye, Binghe imagines building him a library, imagines how happy he’d be, how he’d smile so brightly at Binghe for it.

It would be hard, transporting books from the human realm to the Endless Abyss. 

Binghe thinks he’d manage it, somehow. 

He’s snapped out of his daydream when Yuan-ge makes an indignant noise in front of him. 

“Binghe!” He says, eyes narrowed, “This dumbass fucking author thinks razor orcas have impenetrable skin! Razor orcas, of all creatures! Obviously they’re not all that hard to kill or their teeth wouldn’t be so common on the black market! Does the author even have a shred of common sense? Or did they just not bother to do any research at all?!”

“They must have been dropped on their head as a child,” Binghe says, even though he has no idea what a razor orca even is . He has recently discovered that Yuan-ge enjoys insulting authors, and enjoys it even more when Binghe does it with him. 

“Exactly!” He agrees, putting the book back in its place. 

Dust hangs in the air, dancing in sunbeams that filter through the windows. The pile of books is a comfortable weight in Binghe’s hands, and Yuan-ge’s voice rambles on in the background, its cadence familiar and soothing. 

Binghe closes his eyes and, just for a moment, lets everything that has been worrying him fade into the background. 

He thinks this might be peace . It’s a strange thing; he’s never really felt it before. He just feels… right. Like everything is how it should be; like no matter what happens, he will be fine. 

It’s a quiet kind of happiness, rather than the exuberant, giddy kind that he usually feels near Yuan-ge. It feels like content; like an emptiness inside him has been filled right up to the brim.

Binghe opens his eyes and looks at the man who made it possible for him to feel like this, memorizes the silky hair that bounces as he walks, the pale skin that lights up gold in the sun, the expressive green eyes framed by delicate, long lashes. 

Yuan-ge looks ethereal, when he is truly happy. 

“Oh!” Yuan-ge says, fingers pausing where they had been trailing along the old book spines. He turns to Binghe with an easy smile.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been looking at books for myself for so long! Does Binghe want anything?”

You, Binghe thinks, and then clamps his mouth shut before he can actually blurt it out. “No, Yuan-ge, but thank you for your consideration. This one enjoys listening to you talk about books much more than he enjoys actually reading them himself.”

Yuan-ge’s cheeks color, soft pink spreading across his smooth skin. 

“Such a smooth talker Binghe is already,” he huffs, avoiding Binghe’s eyes, “You’ll have women falling all over you one day.”

Binghe wants to scream that the only person he wants falling over him is Yuan-ge; his inner peace stops him, though he’s really not sure how much longer it’s going to last.

Every time he flirts with Yuan-ge, it either goes entirely unnoticed or is met with a response like that . It’s as if the idea of Binghe being interested in Yuan-ge doesn’t even register as a possibility to the older man. 

Instead of grabbing Yuan-ge’s shoulders and loudly proclaiming his love like Binghe wants to, he huffs out a tired laugh. “I’m fine as I am, Yuan-ge.”

Distantly, he hears the thud of the bookstore’s door closing, but he pays it no mind.

Yuan-ge hums, a skeptical look on his face. “Either way,” he says, “We should still look for books that Binghe will enjoy! It’s rather boring in the Endless Abyss, you know.”

Binghe opens his mouth to respond, ready to acquiesce to all of Yuan-ge’s demands, but he is interrupted before he can. 

“Shen-shishu,” greets the voice that haunts his most violent fantasies. “You're really alive. This one never expected to see you again.”

Binghe goes rigid, expression frozen in an odd mix of fear and anger and hurt, and feels his peace shatter .

Chapter Text

“A-Jiu,” Shen Yuan greets. The name is warmly familiar on his tongue; it tastes like ash. He doesn’t want to play this farce, doesn’t want to be affectionate to Shen Jiu when he’s been so awful to Binghe. He doesn’t, but Binghe never told him his Shizun’s name, nor which sect he came from. He’s not supposed to know, yet.

<Protagonist blackening +10%!>

No! It had just gone down a bunch, too!

Binghe’s wide eyes turn to him in shock and confusion. Terror swims in their depths and Shen Yuan wants nothing more than to sweep him away and tuck him somewhere nice and safe and comfortable, where nothing can hurt him. 

Shen Jiu- Shen Qingqiu, scum villain, not Shen Jiu, not his A-Jiu- has a complicated look on his face. 

Well, not really- to the untrained eye, he looks entirely impassive.

But Shen Yuan raised that boy for years, watched him angry and in pain and joyful. Shen Yuan thinks that now, Shen Qingqiu looks hurt. He visibly struggles with his words for a second before he speaks.

“Shishu, why did you leave? Why did you not at least tell me that you were still alive? Why-” Shen Jiu stops. The growing desperation recedes- no, it hides. 

“Why, shishu?”

Shen Yuan stares at Shen Jiu, all grown up now, and feels his chest swell with emotion. It’s not all disgust and anger, as it should be. 

It’s strange, having the memories of two lifetimes, feeling like you’ve lived a life that you know you haven’t; because of it, though, Shen Yuan can’t hate Shen Jiu. Because of it, when Shen Yuan looks at Shen Jiu, he sees the little boy with whip scars littering his body; he sees the familiar habits of a street kid, sees the tired, broken eyes of the boy that would quietly slip into his room at night because he was afraid of sleeping with anyone else around. 

When Shen Yuan looks at Shen Jiu, he sees someone he used to consider family; he sees the boy he raised; he sees someone he is so, so proud of for how far he’s come. (When Shen Yuan looks at Shen Jiu, he sees someone he left behind.)

It is so strange, feeling these things that are not supposed to be his. Receiving Shen Ansong’s memories had been a lot like watching a movie and resonating with the main character, feeling the things they feel- only a hundred times more intense.

And now he is stuck here, looking at Shen Qingqiu and seeing Shen Jiu.

He doesn’t say anything. It hadn’t been him that had faked his own death and left the Sect, not really, no matter how much it felt like it was. Sure , the System says it manufactured Shen Ansong’s backstory on the basis of Shen Yuan’s personality, but it hadn’t been his soul in the body that fled Cang Qiong and left everyone behind. 

(He knows why, though. He knows why, and feels the guilt for it, still.)

He doesn’t say anything. Part of him is vindictively glad that Shen Jiu looks so destroyed at his silence. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Binghe turns around. 

“Shizun?” He asks in a small, trembling voice. 

Immediately, Shen Jiu’s face twists in revulsion. 

“Shishu, get away from the little beast.”

<Protagonist blackening +10%!>

Haha. Fuck . 

… Part of him really hadn’t wanted to accept that Shen Jiu and Shen Qingqiu were really the same person.

He doesn’t really have a choice, anymore.

“ You’re Binghe’s shizun?” Shen Yuan asks. He doesn’t have to manufacture the anger or betrayal in his voice. 

“He has no right to call me that anymore! He’s dangerous, shishu, get away-”

“Shen Jiu.” Shen Yuan interrupts frostily. There is some emotion- numb acceptance, raw anger, disbelief- clawing at his insides. 

It kind of hurts. Immediately, Shen Qingqiu clamps his mouth shut. 

So he still obeys. How funny. 

“Binghe told me, once, that his shizun would whip him for the slightest transgressions,” he says, deceptively soft. “Is that true?”

Shen Jiu scoffs, though there is a troubled expression on his face. “He deserved any and all punishments I gave him. He’s a demon , shishu, can’t you see that?!”

“You didn’t know he was a demon then, did you? You still beat him. You made him fight against a demon elder with incurable poison on his armor . At 15! He was a child , Shen Jiu!”

“Well, it doesn’t matter all that much now, does it? Shishu, I was right to deliver all that punishment! He turned out rotten, just as I always said he was!”

And oh, it’s so achingly familiar. Shen Jiu always used to do this. He was never willing to back down and admit to being wrong. Once he chose a stance, he’d stick to it, no matter if he truly thought he was in the right anymore or not. 

Once, Shen Yuan- Shen Ansong- had found his stubbornness endearing. Now, it’s just bitter . 

“So what? Just because he’s half-demon, you threw him into the Abyss to die?” 

“Yes! I’m a righteous cultivator! He’s a demon! All demons deserve to die!”

Shen Yuan stops yelling. His anger does not recede, not in the slightest. 

Shen Qingqiu watches him, ears tinted red, a harsh scowl marring his face. 

“Does anyone deserve to die just because of the blood that runs through their veins? Does anyone deserve to die because of their background, because of what they are? Tell me, Shen Jiu, does anyone deserve punishment for things they cannot control?”

This time, Shen Qingqiu is the one that does not speak.

“This master thought he’d shown you the answer to that question when you were a boy. He supposes he was wrong, and never managed to teach you anything important at all.”

“Shishu, no-”

“If I was a good teacher,” Shen Yuan interrupts, all too soft, all too sad, all too guilty, “My student would never have turned into someone who would hurt a child for no reason other than their own prejudice.”

Shen Qingqiu stares at him, his inner turmoil obvious to Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan stares evenly back. 

“...Being a demon and being a slave are two very different things,” Shen Qingqiu says, but he doesn’t even sound like he believes himself. 

Binghe inhales sharply, drawing Shen Yuan’s attention for a brief moment. He spots a white line peeking out from under the collar of Binghe’s robes and remembers the webbing of whip scars across his back. The anger in his chest flares. 

“ Nothing justifies what you did to Binghe. Nothing justifies abusing your power to whip a child. I would’ve thought that you, of all people, would understand.”
Because Binghe isn’t the only boy that Shen Yuan has seen whip scars on- Shen Jiu had similar criss-crossing lines, faded with age, littered across his back when he’d first entered Shen Yuan’s tutelage. 

(Shen Ansong’s body once had them too, the marks of a slave- albeit far less than Shen Jiu’s did- before his cultivation had taken care of them and left his skin entirely unblemished, just as Shen Qingqiu’s is, now.)

“Shishu, I-” Shen Qingqiu starts, hints of protest in his tone, and Shen Yuan shuts him down before he can go any further. 

“If Binghe has no right to call you shizun, then you have no right to call me shishu, Shen Jiu.”

Shen Qingqiu recoils, and Shen Yuan really can’t deal with the morsel of guilt he feels because of it. 

“No ,” Shen Qingqiu says, desperation leaking into the usually controlled cadence of his voice, “ No, please . Don’t- don’t denounce me, shishu, please- you’re my only family- I- I’m- I didn’t mean to, I shouldn’t have, I know I shouldn’t have but he was just- everything I wasn’t and I was jealous .” 

Shen Yuan blinks in shock. Huh, he really didn’t think he had that much power over Shen Jiu. 

Then again, he is Shen Jiu’s family, technically. There wasn’t anything like DNA tests in PIDW, so sharing features and having the same family name had apparently been all the proof people needed to declare them family.

… Shen Ansong really had believed that they were related; it had been part of the reason he’d fought so hard for Shen Jiu to be taught by him alongside the peak lord of Qing Jing.

“Apologize to Binghe.” 

Shen Qingqiu grits his teeth, obviously reluctant. The seconds trickle by in silence, and Shen Yuan feels heavy disappointment settle over him. 

“If you’re not going to apologize, then leave . I have no desire to speak to unrepentant child abusers.”

A flash of panic on elegant features, and then-

“This master is sorry, little beast” Shen Qingqiu chokes out. Binghe doesn’t say anything; all he does is stare, too many emotions to parse out swimming in his starry eyes. The books in his hands fall to the floor with a crash. Still, Binghe does not move.

<Protoginst Blackening -1%!>

And then, immediately after, 

<Protagonist Blackening +1%!>  

Swiftly, without even thinking about it, Shen Yuan pulls his fan out of his sleeve and raps Shen Qingqiu on the head with it. 

Fuck, he thinks as the other looks up at him with wide, glistening (??????) eyes,  I just hit the scum villain. 

… It had been pure instinct. Well, nothing he can do now. He clears his throat. If he doesn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t happen. 

“You can do better than that,” He scolds. 

Shen Qingqiu looks away, stares down with that same sullen look he always had whenever Shen Yuan would punish him with some unsavory task. Eventually, the look fades into resignation. 

“I’m sorry,” Shen Jiu mumbles, still staring at the hems of his (regal, refined, too perfect, too put together, like some noble- ) robes. 

“I was wrong. I shouldn’t have hurt you. It was. My fault.”

<Protagonist Blackening -5%!>

“Better,” Shen Yuan praises, a little unsettled by how easy it is to fall back into the familiar motions of teaching Shen Jiu, “But still not good.”

Binghe deserved more than that for the years of abuse Shen Qingqiu had put him through. 

Usually, when given such a comment, Shen Jiu would preen a little and try again, determined to get it right. 

Shen Yuan forgets, again- this isn’t Shen Jiu. 

Shen Qingqiu explodes in rage. “Why?! Why should I apologize, again , when what I did wasn’t even so awful? Why should I explain myself more when you haven’t given me a shred of reasoning for faking your own death and leaving me behind?! Why should I say sorry when you are entirely unrepentant, shishu?!”  

<Protagonist Blackening +5%!>

Shen Yuan cannot stand it anymore.

…He just doesn’t have the energy to try. 

“Leave.” He says, his tone devoid of emotion. “You have no grounds to argue, here. I may have been a bad teacher, I may not be willing to give you my reasons, but at least I never resorted to child abuse .”

Surprisingly, Shen Qingqiu reels back at that, as if he’s been struck. Genuine guilt flashes on his face for a split second.

“You weren’t-”

Shen Yuan doesn’t let him finish. He just- he’s so tired.

He doesn’t want to argue anymore. 

“ Leave, Shen Jiu . ”

Shen Qingqiu hesitates, reluctance crossing his features, and Shen Yuan believes, for a second, that he’ll obey. 

“Stay here, in this town,” Shen Qingqiu whispers, “Please.” 

His voice breaks in the middle, painfully vulnerable. He clears his throat. 

“I’ll… I’ll return. With a better apology. For Luo Binghe,” Shen Jiu says the words haltingly, as if each one is a struggle to get out.

“So stay ,” Shen Jiu says, begs , with wide pleading eyes that remind Shen Yuan painfully of his shizi, his personal student, his favorite . 

Shen Yuan is nodding before he really registers it. 

Shen Jiu’s shoulders sag in relief, his perfect little mask thoroughly demolished. Without another word, he leaves.

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan has had enough of silence. The whole day has been filled with dramatic pauses and heaviness and he’s had enough . Even now, walking to an inn with Binghe, finally alone, it follows him, uncomfortable and charged and inescapable.

But Binghe- he kind of looks like he wants to kill something, so Shen Yuan sees it best not to break it, lest he bring the protagonist's wrath upon himself. 

Internally, he sighs. 

Ahh, this day has been too stressful. And things were going so well, too! The scum villain just had to appear now, of all times.

And then, with a dark kind of relief, he thinks, At least Binghe didn’t try to rip off his limbs. 

To think he’d been happy when that had happened in PIDW- a change in perspective really does make a world of difference.

Shen Yuan lets the silence linger as he leads Binghe to their room for the night, lets it sit with them when they settle on the bed, lets it consume and amplify the tension until he can’t take it anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” he offers, for all its worth.

“It’s not Yuan-ge’s fault,” Binghe responds, clearly still lost in thought. 

“But it kind of is, isn’t it?” Shen Yuan responds, the guilt for a mistake that isn’t his sitting heavy on his shoulders. “I should’ve taught him better. I thought I did.”

“...How is he so different from you?”

“I don’t know. I never thought he’d end up like this.”

Binghe sighs, curling in on himself a little where he sits. He contemplates the words for a long while, as if searching for an appropriate response.

“Why didn’t Yuan-ge tell me?” He asks finally, changing the subject

Shen Yuan winces. His backstory- the one in this world- has always inspired complicated feelings in him. 

Sometimes he forgets that the one who lived those memories wasn’t him; others, he wants to puke at the thought that his body had done those things, gone through them all, because it’s such a forgein, awful concept to him. 

The trauma he knows he should have from the experiences isn’t there; the care for the people the original had loved is. Sometimes he thinks they are the same person, him and Shen Ansong, and others he thinks they couldn’t be more different. 

It’s strange. It’s exhausting to think about. 

… So most of the time, he just doesn’t. It’s not like he regularly interacts with anyone the original goods knew, so he just ignores what had happened to his body before he transmigrated into it. 

A lot of the time, he forgets someone else had inhabited it before him; forgets “his” life in this world goes beyond just fifteen years. 

“It didn’t seem to matter much. Besides, the whole story is … very complicated. I don’t like thinking about it.”

Binghe hums, the distance in his gaze growing. 

The silence rises again, wrapping the room in its suffocating presence. Shen Yuan is hit with the absurd urge to give the air a middle finger. 

“Okay,” Shen Yuan grits out when it becomes unbearable again. Seriously, why does he have to be the one to initiate this grueling conversation?! 

Shen Yuan is so tired of dealing with Emotions. God , he just wants to sleep.

“I can clearly see that you have questions so just… spit it out, whatever it is. Please.”

Binghe hesitates for a long moment. 

“... What peak was Yuan-ge in charge of?”

It’s clearly not what he actually wants to ask, but Shen Yuan has no qualms in indulging. 

“Bai Zhan.”

Binghe’s eyebrows raise in surprise. 

“Bai Zhan? Really? Yuan-ge does not seem like he would belong there.”

Shen Yuan snorts in amusement. 

“Not everyone on Bai Zhan is a fighting-obsessed meathead,” he says, “Just most.”

And then, quieter, 

“Besides, I stopped really enjoying fighting when I left the sect.”

A lie; Shen Yuan stopped liking fighting when he realized that the things he was hurting were real people, real animals, not just parts of a story. 

“So Yuan-ge does not like to fight?”

Shen Yuan shrugs. “I like the thrill of it. It’ll never really stop being fun, I think, but it sickens me whenever I hurt someone.”

“Huh,” Binghe says. Shen Yuan feels the full intensity of his stare, the back of his neck prickling at being the object of Binghe’s scrutiny. “Huh.”

“If I asked to leave this town, right now,” Binghe asks, slow and tentative, “Would Yuan-ge come with me?”

Really, why is Binghe asking such a question? The answer is obvious.

“Yes,” he says unhesitatingly, and it is the full truth. 

If Binghe doesn’t want to see his shizun, then obviously Shen Yuan won’t make him. Binghe is well within his rights to want to leave, and where Binghe goes, Shen Yuan follows. 

Because he has to, of course. Naturally. 

And then, just like that, Binghe’s entire being seems to soften, white teeth gleaming as he breaks into a grin. 

<Protagonist blackening -20%! Happiness points +500! Wow, good work, host! Keep it up, you’re doing great! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ >

Wha-

Binghe laughs out loud, and Shen Yuan barely has time to appreciate the sound before he’s being tackled to the bed, strong arms wrapping around his middle. 

His weight exerts a comforting pressure, and Shen Yuan feels the tension that had built up over the course of the day drain out of him, even as he puts up a token protest. 

“So sticky,” he admonishes, but his hands are already coming up to card through Binghe’s fluffy hair. 

“Yuan-ge is the best,” Binghe mutters into his chest. “This Binghe never should have doubted him.”

Shen Yuan gives his little bun an admonishing tap on the head. “If Binghe wants to question me, he is always free to. I won’t take offense.”

The arms around him tighten, squeezing the breath out of him. “I won’t,” Binghe promises. “I trust Yuan-ge. I trust Yuan-ge with everything I have.”

“Silly child,” Shen Yuan responds, fondness palpable in his tone, “You shouldn’t trust so easily. You’ve only known me for a few months.”

One of his hands scratches lightly at Binghe’s scalp, and the younger makes a pleased sound, pushing into the touch. 

<+100 Happiness Points!>

If he had a tail, Shen Yuan thinks amusedly, it would be wagging furiously . 

“Yuan-ge has shown me more kindness in a few months than most people have shown me in years of knowing me.”

Binghe raises his head a little, and Shen Yuan feels something in his chest settle, joy sparking as those sparkly black eyes meet his own, the edges crinkled in happiness. 

“I know now that Yuan-ge would never hurt me.”

Shen Yuan is helpless to do anything but smile back, hoping that his affection for this sweet sheep wasn't too obvious. Half-blackened where?!

“...I wouldn’t,” He mumbles, averting his eyes from Binghe’s glowingly happy face, “I could never.”

Heat rises to his cheeks as the mortification of saying such a thing sets in, but he doesn’t retract it; after all, it's only the truth. 

Binghe laughs again, soft and sweet, and pushes his head back into Shen Yuan’s chest. 

“Thank you, Yuan-ge,” he responds, and Shen Yuan nearly blushes at the sheer reverence in the words, “Thank you so much.”

It’s not a big deal, Shen Yuan wants to protest, anyone else would say the same . 

But Binghe’s tone is so genuine , as if he really believes Shen Yuan has given him something extraordinary, and he can’t bring himself to refute that. 

So he only hums, letting his eyes slip shut, and enjoys the warmth that encases him.

Silence fills the room, sugary sweet, undeniably comfortable, and Shen Yuan relaxes into it with ease. 

He feels no need to break it, this time. 

Chapter Text

White on blue, splashes of pale pink and gold, intricately woven flowers, a lacquered wooden frame- the fan in front of Shen Yuan is beautiful, clearly well-crafted and lovingly painted. 

It’s also absurdly expensive. He absolutely cannot afford it, not when his old, painstakingly gathered money is worth much less than what it was years ago, and his funds are already wearing thin. 

He’s going to have to go gathering soon; he knows the location of several miracle flowers, and those will hopefully sell well enough to get him enough money to buy all the supplies he’ll need to house Binghe for the foreseeable future.

Shen Yuan stares wistfully at the fan, flipping it open and closed, admiring the way it shines in the sun. He contemplates trading B-points for money. 

No! He scolds himself, shaking his head firmly. The trading is atrociously unfair, with 20 B-points being worth only a single copper coin. He can’t! He shouldn’t! He’s not even going to use the fan much! 

Shen Yuan is pulled out of his self-bargaining as a foreboding shiver runs down his spine. 

He can’t feel any killing intent, but his instincts scream there is someone obscenely strong near him. 

Carefully, as naturally as he can, he looks around, eyes tracing his surroundings, looking for the anomaly. 

He doesn’t have to look for long- there, only a little ways away from him, steadily making his way towards him, is an ethereally beautiful man. 

He is tall, with broad shoulders and strangely familiar, delicate features, clad in- wait, are those Bai Zhan robes?!

The little inkling of suspicion growing in his mind is abruptly confirmed when the man stops in front of him and bows deeply. 

“Shizun,” He says, voice low and deep, “You’re truly alive.”

The flood of relief that hits Shen Yuan actually makes him go a little weak at the knees, and he beams at Liu Qingge as the man straightens. 

“Kai,” He breathes. You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re okay, he thinks. In the next second, he’s grabbing Qingge’s wrist, searching for anything wrong, and feeling another wave of relief as he finds nothing.

His letter worked, then; back when he’d first received the original’s memories, he’d agonized for weeks over a possible way to prevent Qingge’s death. The solution he’d come up with was a letter, addressed to both Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu- well, to Shen Jiu, imploring them to be nice to each other and informing them that he would be going into the Abyss. 

Attached to the letter were several cultivation enhancing plants and animal parts, two of each one so there would be no fighting. 

Shen Yuan had figured that if either of their cultivations advanced to the point where they didn’t end up in the Ling Xi caves at the same time, the entire event would be prevented. 

And, thankfully, he’d been right. 

With great care, he cradles Qingge’s face in his palm, turning it this way and that. He’d… really never thought he’d see him again.

“Oh, look at you,” Shen Yuan says fondly, “You’ve grown so well.”

The tips of Qingge’s ears turn red, and Shen Yuan only barely resists the urge to coo at the reaction. 

“Shizun flatters me.”

Shen Yuan is opening his mouth to respond, warmth sparking in his chest, when he is interrupted by an explosive shockwave of killing intent. 

In a split second, Shen Yuan’s sword is drawn, even though the intent hadn’t been directed towards him, and Cheng Luan rests right in front of Binghe’s neck. 

<Protagonist blackening +10%!>

“Qingge,” Shen Yuan says sharply, as soon as he realizes what’s going on. “Sheathe your sword.”

Qingge looks at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But, shizun-”

“ Qingge . Do as your shizun commands.”

Obediently, albeit reluctantly, Qingge guides Cheng Luan back into its scabbard. 

“Liu-shishu,” Binghe says, an undercurrent of something dangerous in his voice, “What are you doing here?”

The furrow between Qingge’s brows deepens. 

“You’re from Cang Qiong?” He asks, clearly bewildered.

Shen Yuan sighs, hyper aware of the way the whole market is looking at them, now. 

He throws one last longing look at the fan still in his hand, gently placing it back on the vendor’s stall. 

Shen Yuan grabs Qingge’s wrist with one hand, dragging him along and grabbing Binghe’s with the other. 

“ We ,” he starts, “can go talk somewhere else. Come on.”

He strides forward with quick, confident steps, completely ignoring the tense atmosphere behind him until they’re finally out of the village. He only lets go when they find a small clearing, far enough away from the market that the sounds of bustling people are faint. 

“Binghe,” he scolds when he turns around, “What was with that killing intent? Did you want me or Qingge to accidentally stab you?!”

<-100 Protagonist Satisfaction Points!> 

Fuck-

“This lowly one apologizes to Yuan-ge. His temper got the better of him.” Binghe mutters, but the words are more petulant than anything else. Shen Yuan considers just letting it go, since he does not want to lose more points, but decides against it. 

“I’m certainly not the one all the killing intent was directed at, am I? If you’re going to apologize to someone, apologize to Qingge!”

Binghe’s expression sours like he’s just drunk a mouthful of vinegar, and Shen Yuan can see Qingge glaring at his little white sheep. 

Ah. Wrong decision, then. 

He barely staves off the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Time to backtrack!

“Fine. You know what, let’s just put this whole thing behind us! None of this ever happened.”

Both Binghe and Qingge nod, and then proceed to glare at each other for- what, agreeing on something??

He shakes his head, exasperated.

“This is Liu Kai, now Liu Qingge, Peak lord of Bai Zhan, as Binghe should know. Qingge, this is Luo Binghe, my … traveling companion. He’s a former disciple of Qing Jing.”

Qingge’s eyes widen minutely. “The one that died at the Immortal Alliance Conference?”

“Not quite,” Shen Yuan says dryly, “Clearly. Because he’s standing right in front of you, Qingge.”

Qingge tilts his head. 

“They never found a body,” he says slowly. His frown deepens. “But why would Shen Qingqiu lie about his death?”

“Because he was the one that pushed Binghe into the Endless Abyss.”

Ah, good old revenge. Shen Qingqiu most definitely deserves the fight Qingge is going to give him later.

“What?!”

“You heard me.”

“That bastard!”

With the amount of vitriol in Qingge’s voice… perhaps telling him about Shen Qingiqu being the one to throw Binghe down was a mistake.

Shen Yuan hums, and regards Liu Qingge with a critical eye. He’s taller, broader and overall much stronger than he was when Shen Yuan last saw him. 

Back then, Shen Yuan could’ve beaten him with relative ease; the only reason he’d lost their last spar was because he had wanted to name Liu Qingge his succeeding disciple before fucking off to live as a rogue. 

Now, though, he’s not so sure. 

Hmm. 

“Don’t be too hard on him about it, Qingge,” he says, choosing his words carefully. He needs to make sure that Liu Qingge won’t harass Shen Qingqiu too much over it, but he can’t exactly tell Qingge the truth. 

If Qingge finds out that Binghe’s half heavenly demon and decides to do something about it… Shen Yuan doesn’t know if he’ll be strong enough to protect him. 

“I have already arranged for an appropriate punishment. Shizun will handle this matter.”

Qingge still looks skeptical, so Shen Yuan opts to quickly change the topic. 

“Enough about all of this,” He starts, waving a hand in the air as if to literally slap the tension away, “Tell me, how is Bai Zhan? Are your old martial siblings well? Do the new disciples show promise?”

“Fine. Most are. No.” Qingge answers. 

Shen Yuan chuckles, eyes crinkling in mirth as affection warms his chest. 

“Ah, Qingge, you really haven’t changed much at all, have you?”

Qingge ducks his head, the tips of his ears red again, and this time Shen Yuan can’t help but reach out to pat his hair. 

It’s silky soft underneath his palm, allowing his hand to slide over it with ease. 

Just like he remembers. 

“This disciple is the same.” Qingge mutters. “Still Shizun’s Qingge.”

Shen Yuan softens, lips tugging up into a helplessly wistful smile. 

“I’m glad,” he says, “I’m so, so glad .”

<-100 Protagonist Coolness Points! -100 Happiness Points! +10% Protagonist Blackening! Host, please stop what you’re doing or point levels will continue to decrease!>

Hey, Binghe, what the fuck?! Do you really hate Qingge this much already?? For what reason?!

“Yuan-ge,” Binghe interrupts, voice blatantly whiny, “This Binghe is hungry . Can we go eat?”

Thank you for the excuse, Binghe!!

When Shen Yuan turns his attention to him, Binghe pulls out all the stops- big, round puppy eyes, pouty lips, even the telltale glimmer of tears- and Shen Yuan is a weak, weak man. 

With a final pat, he lets his hand slide off of Qingge’s head, silently mourning the loss of the texture. 

“Let’s go,” he prompts with a steadier, friendlier smile, “Qingge can tell me more at the restaurant.”

-----

Lunch is- very, very strangely passive aggressive. 

Shen Yuan has no idea why , but both Qingge and Binghe seem to have it out for each other. Everytime he catches them looking at each other, their glares are intense enough to make lesser men pee their pants. 

Stranger still, they compete over everything . 

When Qingge holds the door to the restaurant open for Shen Yuan, Binghe races to pull out a seat for him. 

Binghe perfectly recites Shen Yuan’s order to waiter, complete with all of his favorite dishes, topped off with a desert that sounds mouth-wateringly good , and Qingge keeps piling all the best cuts of meat and the best-cooked vegetables into Shen Yuan’s plate like he’ll die if he eats food that is anything less than perfect. 

It’s as endearing as it is strange . 

Shen Yuan, like the perfectly reasonable person that he is, opts to ignore all of this in favor of making nostalgically familiar conversation with Liu Qingge. 

That is, Shen Yuan spends the entirety of lunch chatting away at the brick wall that is Liu Qingge, occasionally receiving grunts, nods, and singular words as answers to his questions, all while placidly ignoring all of Binghe’s searing glares. 

All in all, it’s a nice lunch! Shen Yuan does have to turn off System notifications because of how wildly his points keep changing, but still! It’s good!

… He’d missed Kai. 

Their time together is, unfortunately, cut short when Qingge announces that he has a mission to do in a neighboring village. 

Binghe looks inordinately happy to hear it. 

“How long will shizun be here?” Qingge asks, staring intensely down- God, Shen Yuan misses being taller than him- at him. Wow, his eyelashes are long . 

“Likely for another few days,” Shen Yuan responds with a teasing smile, “Is Qingge going to visit again?”

Qingge nods solemnly. 

“Of course.”

Shen Yuan laughs softly. He takes one of Qingge’s hands in his and gives it a little squeeze. 

“I’ll see you soon, then.” 

The air, Shen Yuan notices idly as he smiles at Qingge, smells a lot like vinegar.

-------

Extra: 

The sun has nearly set when Liu Qingge finds himself back in the marketplace where he’d met shizun again just that morning. His robes are bloodied; the mission was a resounding success. 

His day has been amazing . 

Most of the vendors are already packing up their goods, and only a few are still selling.

Immediately, Liu Qingge makes a beeline towards the stall that shizun had been at- thankfully, it’s still there. 

He stares at the collection of fans on the table, ignoring the way the vendor trembles at the sight of him. 

Eventually, he sees it; the fan that his shizun had been holding earlier that day. It’s beautiful, depicting cherry blossoms against a blue sky. 

It suits his shizun, the most beautiful man Liu Qingge has ever seen.

He picks it up. 

“How much for this,” He asks gruffly, eyeing the sweaty man in front of him. 

“T-Two silver coins, sir,” the man stutters out. 

Liu Qingge nods, turning to ask his companion for money- only to remember that this was a solo mission. 

And he hadn’t brought a money pouch. 

He glares down at the fan, ignoring the whimper he hears. 

He looks back up at the vendor, and thrusts the thing towards his chest. 

“Keep this safe. I will return in the morning with money.” Liu Qingge says, not noticing the threatening tone that creeps into his voice. 

As soon as the man nods, Liu Qingge jumps onto Cheng Luan and leaves. 

He does not see the man collapse into a relieved pile of sweat and tears behind him.