Chapter Text
To be honest, Shen Yuan didn't notice the strange, two-meter-tall man who had emerged from a multidimensional rift into his room.
His new headphones were special and provided excellent noise cancellation; they had been a generous gift from his brother. Furthermore, his grandmother had bought him a new high-end computer, which he had been glued to for longer than he cared to admit.
In short, Shen Yuan didn't notice Luo Binghe until he was a meter away.
He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Then he looked back at him and froze, as the sounds of gunfire and explosions reached his ears.
For a second, he thought there was a ghost in his house. But it was even worse; it wasn't a ghost; it was a demon.
His gaze quickly fell upon the old-fashioned clothes, seemingly hand-sewn, with vibrant red patterns on the black fabric, adorned with touches of gold that hung and decorated like spilled drops. His long brown hair cascaded over his shoulders, exquisitely adorned with small braids and gold jewelry. Shen Yuan followed the flow of his hair to the gleaming, terrifying sword hanging at his side; terrifying and dangerous.
And on his forehead was a mark Shen Yuan recognized all too well; intertwined and bright red. Although every forum he knew described it as resembling a bloodstain, Yuan always thought it looked more like a flower.
He is…?
He slowly removed his headphones. Someone was shouting at him through the voice chat, but Shen Yuan didn't hear it at all.
He had to mentally check that he had eaten and there was no reason for him to be hallucinating.
But he…he wasn't as the book described him.
Shen Yuan knew exactly what Luo Binghe was like. He had read every chapter and spent a considerable amount of time noting all the spelling mistakes and plot holes. He knew perfectly well that Luo Binghe wore black and white robes, not black, red, and gold. That it would be too pretentious for his good reputation to wear gold. He also knew that the Luo Binghe in the book would never look at him like that. And even more importantly, he knew that no Luo Binghe should be standing in front of him.
This thing…Luo Binghe was looking at him as if he were the only thing in the room, and in a way, he was the only interesting thing. Binghe had already had visions of this place and honestly, he couldn't care less. His once black eyes were now getting redder and redder, red like blood. Dried blood. A smile emerged from his lips.
Shen Yuan trembled.
“Shizun…” His voice was low, trembling, as if repressed and restrained.
He took a step forward, and Yuan pushed back in his gaming chair, still physically unable to break eye contact, putting only a few extra centimeters of distance between them.
“Ah.”
Luo Binghe almost laughed, his expression twisting between laughter and satisfaction. He looked so out of place in the spacious white room. Like ink staining white paper.
“You’re scared.” It wasn’t even a question, and if it were, it would answer itself.
“You’re perfect.” And then, like a blur of red and black, Luo Binghe lunged at him. He gave Shen Yuan barely a second to react, not even time to create distance. With a touch of his sharp nails, all of Shen Yuan’s willpower was gone, and his body was immobilized.
Awake, but trapped.