Chapter Text
The shaking ground foretells Luo Binghe’s arrival to the western palace long before he steps inside. The stained glass windows in the entrance hall quiver, as if it is the devil incarnate lurking at the doorstep. He Xun fancies that an angry Heavenly Demon is not so different from that in the end.
“That was quick.” The tea he went through so much trouble of asking a servant to brew is ruined as the three cups he had prepared clatter to the ground at the first knock at the palace doors. It’s not so much a knock as it is an attempt at breaking in.
“You expected him to take his time?” Song Yuehua has made the grand staircase at the end of the hall her waiting place, its steep incline leading up towards the throne room. Her throne room. She’s taking her sweet time polishing Xin Mo, having already wiped Luo Binghe’s blood clean from the blade. The sword is docile as a dog in her lap. The cursed weapon has had many owners in the past: warlords, usurpers, prophets, and kings, but it might prefer the company of no-name princess above them all.
BANG!
The fortified steel, melded from the horns of at least twenty Black Moon Rhinoceros-Pythons, stands up against three more blows before the double doors are blown apart at the hinges. He Xun yelps, jumping away from the plank that nearly skews off the tip of his foot. The goal was to rile up Luo Binghe. Make him irrational. Reckless. They can’t let him know he’s playing right into their hands.
He Xun goes from counting his toes to watching them hang suspended in the air as Luo Binghe lifts him by the throat. Well. Goal achieved!
“Harm him, and I promise you will never see Shen Qingqiu again.” Song Yuehua’s confident tone carries all the way down the hall, shifting Luo Binghe’s reddened gaze towards her. She doesn’t flinch. Four years ago, she might’ve. The Endless Abyss toughened her. Transformed her. Broke and beat her until the spoiled princess she once was became nothing more than a memory, a glimpse at a past life she could never return to.
The Endless Abyss did many things to Song Yuehua. But it did not do the one thing her father truly wanted. It did not kill her.
She’ll be damned if she lets that happen now.
“Where is he?” Luo Binghe growls. Less human, more demon.
“Release my cousin now if you wish to know.”
Luo Binghe does. No arguments to be had. Song Yuehua marvels at the complicity of a man she’s had to spend years fighting over territorial lines with. Could it really be that simple?
Maybe He Xun was right. Maybe Shen Qingqiu is the key to Luo Binghe’s downfall.
He Xun tries to be graceful as he’s thrown to the ground, but Luo Binghe doesn’t make it easy for him. “Let’s be civil about this,” he croaks, his vocal chords still caught in the process of healing.
Luo Binghe hears the word civil and thinks the blood vessels in his eyes might rupture. He hasn’t had to mentally recite calming sutras since he was a teenager watching Liu Qingge get a smidge too handsy for his liking during Shizun’s monthly meridian cleansing. “You believe you are owed any manners when it is you who attacked first?” he spits.
He Xun shakes his finger at him. Luo Binghe wants to snap it in half. “Ah, but you forget. You were the one to break our peace treaty by entering our lands to begin with.”
A treaty the west barely agreed to, yet love to shove in Luo Binghe’s face whenever it is convenient.
“That does not justify taking Shizun. He is innocent. He has not played a single part in this war.”
Song Yuehua has already considered this. “Your mate is an extension of you. Your actions are his actions. He will be given no clemency.”
That should’ve been enough to end the argument, but He Xun is too much of an asshole not to try and get the last laugh.
“Shen Qingqiu doesn’t seem too innocent to me, after what you two got up to on the way here.” He leans forwards conspiratorially, a friend waiting to hear the latest gossip. “Tell me, how does he taste?”
Luo Binghe should’ve killed him while he had the chance. He lunges. His claws are inches from He Xun’s neck when he feels the chilling press of steel against his own. Xin Mo levitates in place, awaiting Song Yuehua’s next orders.
“If you are ready to have a proper discussion,” Song Yuehua’s scolding is directed to He Xun as much as it is to Luo Binghe. “Then you may follow me.” She begins to mount the stairs. Xin Mo eagerly flies back into her hands, each spiral in her direction punctuated with an almost silent scream. Luo Binghe can still feel the phantom threat of it pressed against his throat. He had felt its thoughts; louder than Meng Mo and darker than his own. For one awful, horrible moment he’s glad to not be wielding such a weapon. Shizun’s well-being banishes idle thought before it can grow. It doesn’t matter how Xin Mo makes him feel. He needs it.
Song Yue counts two sets of footsteps behind her and is relieved she doesn’t have to drag the boys in by their ears. She believes there’s a better way to go about negotiation. Something more fitting of demons their stature. Her throne room has entertained a slew of death threats already. Luo Binghe’s will be no different. Besides, Song Yuehua would like to sit while deciphering the best way to ruin Luo Binghe’s life.
Luo Binghe is not moved by the running lines of columns leading up to Song Yuehua’s throne, nor by the dramatic drapery hung between them, the polished marbled floors, or the sultry red rug at his feet. Least of all by the gaudy silver throne she settles onto, legs crossed with Xin Mo floating at her side. There are no guards. Song Yuehua has no need for them.
As her strategist, it is tradition that He Xun positions himself beneath his sovereign, kneeling before the steps of the throne. Instead he throws himself onto them, stretching his long limbs out as if he were lounging in bed. He props himself up on his elbows, waiting. Smiling. Always smiling. Will he be smiling when Luo Binghe one day tears his teeth from his mouth? His heart from his chest?
It’s Song Yuehua who speaks first. “Humans are fascinating, don’t you think?” Her authoritative tone slips into something more casual, more curious. “They have existed for as long as demons have. Yet, how is it that they have continued to survive, as inferior to us as they are?”
Luo Binghe reigns in his impatience listening to a sermon he doesn’t have the time for.
“I’ll tell you why. They adapt. The strong ones do. And those strong humans mate with other strong humans, spawning even stronger offspring. Now there are cultivators who are as powerful as we are. It’s incredible.” Song Yuehua almost speaks like Shen Qingqiu when he rants about the uses of a particular flower, or describes the attributes of some eclectic beast.
Shizun.
Where is he? How is he? Luo Binghe's nerves jump with every passing second, itching for action. But which action is the right one?
Listening. That's all Song Yuehua wants him to do right now.
“Now answer me this." She purposefully slows her words just to see how it makes Luo Binghe squirm. "What do you think a strong human like Shen Qingqiu will do, trapped down here in the Endless Abyss, surrounded by all this demonic qi?”
Luo Binghe is silent. Song Yuehua waits, then graciously answers for him.
“He’ll adapt.”
“What do you mean?” Luo Binghe thinks he understands. But he wants to be wrong. He wants Song Yuehua to tell him he’s wrong.
Song Yuehua stands, walking past a giggling He Xun on her way down the steps towards Luo Binghe. “It will go like this." She holds out her hand, the tips of her fingers blackened, a perfect match to her claws. "Shen Qingqiu will wake up one day to find his nails have grown longer and sharper. To better protect himself with." She uses that same hand to smoothen her hair back, showcasing her pointed ears that twitch with every sound of the room. "His ears may lengthen, to better hear predators." She passes a hand over the demonic markings on her eyes. "His eyes will change to reflect his enhanced vision to better make out his surroundings. He’ll learn to survive without human food. He’ll likely stop needing to sleep–”
She could go on, but there's no need when Luo Binghe is already so stricken, realization dragging his mouth down into a horrified frown.
“He’ll turn into a demon," the words spill out from him in a rushed exhale, barely spoken, barely heard.
Song Yuehua almost feels bad for him. “That is the fate of every human that enters the Endless Abyss. But most lose themselves in the process. They become mindless beasts in need of putting down.”
“You don’t want that to happen to your dear Shizun, do you?” He Xun can't let his cousin have all the fun, he wants to torment Luo Binghe too! "Anyone who has stayed in the Endless Abyss long enough has seen it happen. It would be a shame for poor Shen Qingqiu to fall into such madness. To become something not worth living."
The world feels like it’s crumbling under his feet, but Luo Binghe stays standing. Now is not the time to lose his head. He has to think. Think!
Then, he remembers.
“I saved your life once.”
When they met four years ago, Luo Binghe did not need to protect Song Yuehua from a raging Saber-tooth Centaur. He did not need to warn her that the lake up ahead was dangerous and already poisoned by venomous eels, or to share with her half his hard earned rations.
But just as well, he did not need to ignore her suggested alliance, didn't need to turn his back on her in favor of his own selfish goals. Build a kingdom for his mate? How laughable. All that bravado, that insistence that he didn't need her help–look where fate has brought them now. Retribution feels just as good as Song Yuehua dreamed it would. And again, it is all for this Shizun. Song Yuehua wonders if the human is worth it. He Xun seems to think so.
“Return Shizun to the human realm and consider your debt repaid.” Luo Binghe doesn't care what happens to him in the aftermath. He only needs Shizun alive. His best chance at survival is at Cang Qiong Mountain. With Mu Qingfang and the pure, ever-bright energy of the Lingxi Caves.
Song Yuehua could laugh. It's funny that Luo Binghe thinks he is in any position to bargain right now. “My debt is to you, not Shen Qingqiu.”
Your mate is an extension of you.
“I will spare your life, but not his.”
He will be given no clemency.
Does everyone in the west speak only in half truths? Do they play hypocrites for fun?
“My life is nothing without Shizun in it!” Luo Binghe's qi lashes out, catching onto the twisted folds of drapery above him and bringing nearly the entire ceiling aflame.
Such sweet, empty words. Song Yuehua won't disgrace Luo Binghe further by pretending to care. “Do as I say, and I may be convinced to return Shen Qingqiu to the human realm.” It sounds like a lie even to her own ears.
They plan to dangle Shizun above his head until he bends the knee, becomes her loyal puppet. And even then, there’s no guarantee of Shizun’s safety.
The fire is spreading. A ceiling beam cracks and comes crashing down towards Luo Binghe, missing him by mere centimeters. Luo Binghe doesn't grace it with a reaction. “I refuse," he bites out.
Stubborn. Song Yuehua half expected this response. There’s no use is swinging Xin Mo around Luo Binghe to threaten him. She found her words will do enough damage on their own. “Fine. So be it. Keep your Shizun here for as long as you’d like, Luo Binghe." She waves her hand dismissively, but spares not a spec of attention to the fire or to He Xun as she locks eyes with Luo Binghe. "All I ask is that you slay whatever monster you create in doing so.”
✦✦✦
There’s not a single peak lord of Cang Qiong Mountain who doesn’t enjoy a strong drink. They must, managing a job as difficult as they do. The worst offender is Shang Qinghua, but he is missing from tonight’s festivities, and from the drama of the tournament as well, puzzling Liu Qingge who has seen the man make one too many trips to the Bamboo House to not have fallen for Shen Qingqiu charm already. There’s no way that rodent’s defensive abilities are greater than his own. Liu Qingge spent decades evading bridal candidates sent by his family who weren’t satisfied with the success of two prodigal offspring and demanded more in the form of grandchildren. He had no interest in marriage (women), and even less interest in…procreation (sex), yet one soft look from the usually cold and indifferent Shen Qingqiu, one smile and sugar-sweet greeting of ‘Liu-shidi!’ was enough to change his mind. He was wooed. Instantly. And he’s expected to believe the man who cries and clings to Shen Qingqiu’s coattails every chance he gets isn’t too?
Fine. All That means is that Liu Qingge gets to enjoy more rice wine tonight, and less competition later.
In the past, peak lord gatherings like this were often lively, full of laughter and good cheer. A way for them to socialize outside of sect business meetings. A few drinks in and Qi Qingqi’s prissy attitude would finally fold, Yue Qingyuan’s worry lines would disappear, and Shen Qingqiu, flushed and flourishing under the glow of the low hanging lamps and half melted candles, would sprawl himself over whatever lucky bastard managed to snag the spot next to him. Usually it was Liu Qingge, who after a few servings of wine himself, would no longer pretend not to adore the way Shen Qingqiu drunkenly prattled on about how much he ‘loooooves his shixiong and shidis and shimeis’ while hanging off his shoulders, demanding his already full glass be refilled.
There’s no such joviality tonight. The assembly of peak lords in the conference hall is muted, only the lightly clinking of glasses left to fill the spaces of silence between them.
Liu Qingge drains his cup and wonders how much he can drink in one night. Beside him, Wei Qingwei fiddles with his ponytail, trying and failing at nonchalance. Qi Qingqi is quiet, drink refused as she leans back in her chair, arms crossed in their typical show of defiance. Mu Qingfang sips idly, pretending to find the variation of wood grains in the table very interesting. And Yue Qingyuan–well, he’s calm as ever, but Liu Qingge can see his stress manifesting in the beads of sweat dotting his temple. He tries his hand at casual conversation and eventually gives up, diving straight to the point.
“I believe the one thing we can agree on is that Xiao-jiu must not be married off to an outsider from the sect.”
There's a murmur of agreement amongst everyone gathered.
“Who’s to say they truly care for him? They might be vying for a position of power in Cang Qiong.” Mu Qingfang adds.
Liu Qingge slams his fist on the table, spooking Wei Qingwei into spilling his drink all over himself. “Absolutely not. We can’t allow them to take advantage of Shen Qingqiu!”
“So it must be one of us.” Wei Qingwei disposes of the remnants of his mess with a flick of qi–what a waste of good wine–and he starts to do the math. “So that’s five versus…uh, how many again?”
“Too many,” Qi Qingqi sighs.
“You don’t think we can do it?” Liu Qingge knows a challenge when he hears one.
“Of course we can. It just won’t be easy.”
Wei Qingwei balances himself on the rear legs of his chair, arms folded into a cushion behind his head. The stain on the front of his robes ruins whatever suave image he’s trying so badly to present. “Speak for yourself, qi-shimei. Some of us still know how to swing a sword.”
Qi Qingqi’s glass shatters against the wall, Wei Qingwei having fallen from his chair in his effort to dodge it. His braided headband sits askew across his forehead.
Yue Qingyuan ignores the slight given towards Qi Qingqi because he knows she will pay Wei Qingwei back for it in the arena. “There’s also the matter of peak relations,” he continues cordially. “Specifically between our disciples.”
“What do you mean, Zhangmen-shixiong?” Mu Qingfang seems genuinely confused.
He means the three brawls that have taken place only today between all five of their peaks. Hasn’t Qian Cao had an unusual influx of patients as of late?
Liu Qingge doesn’t see the issue. “It’s healthy competition.”
“Of course you would think that,” Qi Qingqi is surprised Liu Qingge wasn’t leading the most recent attack against Qing Jing disciples; he’s been fighting with them for Shen Qingqiu's attention for months. And somehow losing. They are lucky Luo Binghe isn’t in the picture anymore. Things around Cang Qiong would be a lot worse. Someone would probably be dead. Lots of someones.
Yue Qingyuan’s pacifism is already failing him. “We should aim to create an environment that encourages solidarity between the peaks–”
“Says the one who came up with the idea of a competition in the first place!” Qi Qingqi accuses. And what a stupid idea it is, might she add.
“Why are you in this tournament anyways? I didn’t think you even liked men!” Wei Qingwei is quick to ruffle Qi Qingqi’s feathers again. He’s always been good at that. Asshole. He had one mission with Shen Qingqiu mining the special ore used for spiritual sword repairs, and now he’s here, part of this tournament like he actually has any meaningful relationship with Shen Qingqiu beyond wanting to stick his sword in and out of a different mountainside.
Suddenly there aren’t enough glasses for Qi Qingqi to hurl at Wei Qingwei. “I’m not letting my friend marry any of you idiots!”
The two start brawling like a pair of siblings who’ve been in the same room for too long. Wei Qingwei tears Qi Qingqi’s sleeve and she repays the favor by tearing out his ridiculous earrings.
Liu Qingge tries pouring Yue Qingyuan another drink, but the sect leader politely refuses, taking the entire bottle instead. He lifts it in false cheer. “To Cang Qiong!”
“To Cang Qi–” Someone kicks at Liu Qingge’s leg, knocking him down and thereby adding him to the tumble of fighting peak lords. Mu Qingfang tries separating them, begging them not to fight now. There will be plenty of time for that later.
Yue Qingyuan cradles his bottle. It would seem the tournament couldn’t arrive any sooner.
✦✦✦
Shen Qingqiu’s body hurts. Really hurts. Like ‘someone ran me over with a car’ hurts. It’s the pain that wakes him up from whatever mini coma Luo Binghe and wife number thirty-threes duel put him in, not the sticky wetness of his clothes. It wasn’t enough that he had to be kidnapped and thrown into a cell, they had to throw him right into a puddle of–actually, Shen Qingqiu’s not sure what it is, but it stinks and it’s all over him and his robes. His only set of robes. Wonderful.
And yes, before anyone has to ask, those are immortal binding cables around his wrists. This feels like deja vu.
The underground dungeon is as dark and dirty as anyone would expect. There’s two rows of cells, each occupying their own criminal, with guards posted at the entrance and patrolling throughout. A few flickering torches in the stone walls light the grim faces of Shen Qingqiu’s new neighbors. Demons. Enemies of the west. They’re probably Luo Binghe’s men. They stare at Shen Qingqiu like they know him. One of them gives him an awed wave. Shen Wingqiu awkwardly waves back.
”He looks just like he does in the mural!” A tiny voice at the end of the hall says.
”And in the mosaics!” Another points out.
”He looks even better than his statues!”
Haha. Very funny. Like anyone would make artwork out of him. Sure, Shen Qingqiu had to flip through sketches of himself while grading Luo Binghe’s workbook, but that’s the equivalent of the artsy kid drawing semi-realistic eyes in the margins of their paper because they’re bored in class. These demons must be mistaking him for an another dark haired, green eyed, fan holding beauty.
Shen Qingqiu sighs. It’s time to throw himself a pity party. Let’s tally today fuck-ups, shall we? There’s the failure of retrieving Xin Mo, the failure of helping Luo Binghe against Song Yuehua, and the failure of a prison break because Shen Qingqiu already knows he isn’t making it two steps past this cell, not with how he feels. Why does it hurt to breathe? To think? God he’d kill for a handful of ibuprofen. Honestly hats off to him for somehow making today the worst day ever! Things couldn’t get worse, right?
“Sweetheart!”
He stands corrected.
Shen Qingqiu rolls over and concentrates all his will on burning a hole in the wall with his eyes so that he doesn’t have to waste any energy looking at that damn demon playboy.
He Xun is practically skipping down the dungeon steps to reach him. It would be nice if he would slip and fall and maybe, oh Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know…crack his head open? Accidentally impale himself on one of his guard’s spears? Either or. Shen Qingqiu isn’t picky! Unfortunately He Xun does neither of those things. He passes a message to the guard posted outside of Shen Qingqiu’s cell and then it’s just to two of them. And every eavesdropping prisonmate around them.
He Xun gives him a thousand watt smile. “Really, we’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
Shen Qingqiu would love to. Why don’t they start with He Xun not kidnapping him for once? You know, just to mix things up a little bit.
“Don’t look at me like that,” He Xun pouts and it's nowhere near as cute as when Binghe does it. “I come bringing great news!”
Shen Qingqiu will be the judge of that.
“Are you letting me out?”
He Xun doesn't bother to sound apologetic as he responds. “Afraid not.”
Typical. “Then I don’t want to hear your ‘news.’” Shen Qingqiu goes back to sulking.
“Even if it’s about Luo Binghe?”
All the ears in the dungeon perk at that.
Shen Qingqiu finds his footing, stumbling over towards He Xun with more frenzy than his body, quite frankly, can handle right now. “What? What is it? Is Binghe okay? Tell me!”
“Luo Binghe is fine. Better than fine. We spent a great deal of time negotiating, but I came up with a solution that will make everyone happy. In fact, I think some congratulations are in order.” He Xun pauses for dramatic effect, and Shen Qingqiu just about reaches through the rusting bars of his cell to strangle him. Judging by the ring of bruises already decorating his neck, someone beat him to the punch. Luo Binghe? Shen Qingqiu squints at the marks. Yep. That was totally Binghe. He’d recognize his work anywhere.
There’s cheering to be heard from above ground. The guards are whispering excitedly amongst themselves, heads tipped close as gloved hands shoot up to cover their shocked gasps. It’s a chain reaction, and soon the entire dungeon is buzzing with a secret Shen Qingqiu suddenly doesn’t want to know.
He Xun looks happy. Too happy.
“What is it?” Shen Qingqiu prepares himself for the worst. Luo Binghe is dead. Luo Binghe left you behind–
“Luo Binghe is engaged.”
✦✦✦
“Luo Binghe! Say they are lying!” The news reaches Xiao Huo long before he can track down which of the hundred rooms in this palace now belong to Luo Binghe. The royal guest chambers had probably been an architectural masterpiece, fit for the future king they are housing, but the room is in pieces by the time Xiao Huo comes blazing in, feathers lifting from his skin in all his bright, unbridled anger.
Windows shattered. Rugs shredded. Walls collapsed. It’s a mess. The furniture and decor is overturned, half of it strewn across the room in a fit of rage befitting an army, not a single man. A bronze chandelier lays in a crumpled heap next to Luo Binghe on the splintered wood floor. He’s sitting cross-legged and still, his meditative state a mockery to the furious energy culminating around him. His hands are bleeding where they sit folded on his lap. If Shen Qingqiu were here, he would’ve rushed to Luo Binghe’s side and sacrificed the last clean spot on his robes to bandage the wound. But he’s not here. It’s only Xiao Huo who is willing to risk his life if it means a chance at drop kicking Luo Binghe off his new balcony.
“Who is lying?” Luo Binghe asks, much too calmly. His eyes are closed, his lips barely moving as he speaks. If Xiao Huo didn’t know any better, he’d think him half dead.
“Everyone! Everyone who says the war is over because you and Princess Song are to be married.”
Luo Binghe’s eyes snap open and an audible shriek of demonic energy tears through the room. Xiao Huo, despite himself, takes a step back in retreat. He’d spent so long watching Luo Binghe perform his cute and innocent act around Shen Qingqiu that he’d forgotten. Luo Binghe is a Heavenly Demon. Somehow the destruction of the room doesn’t seem enough. It should be the entire palace.
And it would be, if Luo Binghe hadn’t calmed down. But he hears Xiao Huo’s words and thinks maybe it’s not too late to continue his rampage.
Luo Binghe clenches his fist. Harder, harder, harder, until he ground himself. Shen Qingqiu’s safety depends on his good behavior.
It depends on his betrothal to Song Yuehua.
“It’s true.”
Luo Binghe could’ve easily avoided Xiao Huo’s tackle, but he lets himself be thrown to the ground, his back colliding with the broken edges of the floor. He welcomes the pain. He deserves it.
“How dare you!” Xiao Huo is on top of him, snarling like he’s one second away from ripping into Luo Binghe’s throat. “How dare you do this to A-Qiu! He chose you! You had a future together! How could you throw that all away?”
It’s Luo Binghe’s turn to bear his fangs. “You think I wanted this?”
“You agreed to it!”
“I agreed under one condition. That Song Yuehua return Shizun to the human realm.”
The fight leaves Xiao Huo quicker than it came and he’s left stumbling and confused in the aftermath. “So you noticed?”
“That Shizun was turning into a demon?” Luo Binghe knew something was wrong, but he never could’ve imagined–
“You didn’t know,” Xiao Huo realizes, breathless. “You didn’t know what happens to humans when they stay in the Endless Abyss for too long.”
How?! Is Xiao Huo’s first thought.
“Did you ever think that something that is obvious to you as a native species to this place might not occur to someone like me?” Luo Binghe had never even seen a human in the Endless Abyss before Shen Qingqiu’s surprise arrival. How was he to know? “And what is your excuse for bringing Shizun to a place that you know would ruin him?”
The fury in Xiao Huo’s eyes is almost louder than his words. “He was confident he could get both of you out! And he’s a cultivator. His spiritual energy acts as a natural barrier against the poisonous qi…the transformation should’ve taken months for someone like him, not weeks! I never thought he would be here that long.”
It’s been years, but the guilt sits fresh in Luo Binghe mind. “Shizun was poisoned protecting me in my youth. His spiritual pathways often become blocked–”
“Leaving him more susceptible to the demonic qi of the abyss.” Xiao Huo finishes. He presses the heel of hands into his face. “So we are both to blame for A-Qiu’s condition,” he mumbles.
Luo Binghe pushes Xiao Huo off him with more force than he intended. He doesn’t have it in him to be gentle right now. “But I’m going to make it right.” It’s the only thing he can do.
“By breaking A-Qiu heart?”
Luo Binghe’s heart is breaking too. He’s like an animal licking a fatal wound, comforting himself with the idea that one day he and Shizun can reunite. Marry. Look back and laugh over the days that Luo Binghe was promised to another because heavens above why would he ever allow that? How could he think of anyone else when he has Shen Qingqiu at his side?
Song Yuehua and He Xun have seen to it that they won’t.
“You will act as my primary spouse.’ Song Yuehua speaks as though they are discussing the weather, as though she is not dooming herself to a loveless marriage as well. ‘I will require an heir. Beyond that, there are no matrimonial duties I will ask of you. You may take other spouses if you so wish. I will do the same.” It’s a small mercy. She doesn’t have to permit him such freedoms. He Xun’s glare says she shouldn’t. He always hated it when she messed with his ‘perfect’ plans. Let him throw a tantrum. He Xun’s not in charge here, as much as he likes to act like he is. She is.
A dangerous beat of hope ignites in Luo Binghe’s chest. But–
“I can’t disgrace Shizun like that.” Second Husband, Luo Binghe would have to call him. When Shen Qingqiu deserves nothing less than to be someone’s one and only. When there are others than can give that to him.
“It wouldn’t work anyways.” Going off script isn’t He Xun’s favorite tactic, but he’ll make it work. They have Shen Qingqiu. They have Xin Mo. The odds are in their favor no matter what. “Your little purification idea is cute and all, but we have no interest in continuing it. Shen Qingqiu won’t ever be able to live in the Endless Abyss, much less stay with you in the palace to play husband and wife.” So no. Luo Binghe will not be taking other spouses. He will not corral others to his side, rise against Song Yuehua, reclaim his throne. He will be miserable and manipulated for the rest of his life. Like He Xun planned.
And he will make sure Song Yuehua doesn't let Luo Binghe run back to Shen Qingqiu in the human realm whenever he so pleases either.
“What’s wrong with purifying the abyss?” Luo Binghe is nearly halfway there. Why stop now? What benefits could that possibly bring? He’s making the Endless Abyss livable. To open the doors of his–her kingdom for thousands of others. Is that not what Song Yuehua wants? What every monarch wants? More subjects to rule over?
Song Yuehua is almost happy to explain. “My father sent me down here because he didn’t think I was fit for his throne. That I was a disgrace to his lineage and was better off dead. What better way to defy him than to rule the most savage land our kind has ever known? Purifying the abyss would make it easy. I don’t want easy. I want impossible.”
“You’re mad.” Luo Binghe would know. He is too.
Song Yuehua smiles, fingers twitching around the hilt of Xin Mo. “Perhaps.”
Xiao Huo hugs his knees to his chest. He hadn’t got a single punch in. Forgive him, A-Qiu.
“So what do we do now?”
Luo Binghe has done enough already. He pulled his armies from the border, surrendered his half of the Endless Abyss, and ordered all progress at purification he stopped. Only then was Song Yuehua satisfied.
“The wedding is in three days.”
The Summer Solstice. An auspicious date. A time for new beginnings, good and bad.
Xiao Huo’s face crumbles. “So soon?” Somehow he thought the two of them, Fury Falcon and Heavenly Demon, great beings in their own right, who have fought against He Xun and won, could find a way to put a stop to all of this. But not in three days. They need more time.
“It was my request. Song Yuehua will not send Shizun home until the marriage rites are complete.” Shizun was weak last time Luo Binghe saw him. There’s no telling how far along he is in the transformation. The longer he waits, the longer it will take to get him treatment.
Song Yuehua did not say if the effects were reversible. Luo Binghe is choosing to believe they are.
“Do you know where they are keeping Shizun?” He has to see him. He has to explain–what could Shizun be thinking right now? What could Luo Binghe tell him? I’m doing this for you. Shizun would never allow it. He would rather destroy himself, body and soul, than let Luo Binghe walk into Song Yuehua’s trap because that’s what he does. He sacrifices himself.
‘Not again. Never again’ Luo Binghe swore to himself when he watched the hunter’s arrows pierce his Shizun’s skin. When Shizun leapt in front of Elder Sky Hammer at the demon invasion. He’s going to make good on that promise now.
“No, but I will find out.” Xiao Huo is thankful there’s something to do, something he can help with. He can‘t sit by in anger, destroying everything around him like Luo Binghe. He has to act. Shen Qingqiu’s qi is deeply unbalanced, two opposing energies fighting for control. He’ll be easy to track.
‘I’ll help’, Xiao Huo had said when Shen Qingqiu shook his head in the cave and deemed a future with Luo Binghe hopeless. Maybe he was right. Maybe it is. But one last moment with Luo Binghe; Xiao Huo will make sure Shen Qingqiu gets it–
Xiao Huo blanches, tracing the spot where Shen Qingqiu’s lengthened nails had cut into his hand.
As long as it’s not too late.