Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It was a long day for Shen Yuan. Dare he say the longest of the long weeks he had had. The increasingly momentous tasks Shen Qingqiu had so graciously enacted on him were, as the man explained himself, a result of his newfound competence. He ought to feel happy, proud even— to handle the disciples’ reports, write formal response and inquiry letters of both inter-sect and outer-sect relations, personally handle the younger disciples’ early foundation stages and train them as he saw fit— and he was! He was grateful to be doing something, excelling actually.

Basically, he’d been doing everything a Head Disciple should be doing, but not quite. He didn't serve his A-Die more than tea and indulged in his odd stories (despite labeling them as “odd” his A-Die enjoyed anything he'd offer with endearment). Shen Yuan also didn't oversee the menial labor. Didn't follow-up the chores distribution. Not for lack of trying, when he had tried Ming Fan told him not to worry about it and Shen Yuan left it at that.

“Shen Shixiong, stop worrying over this, please? Go, Shizun’s expecting you back.”

Stop worrying over this.

Go.

His limbs were already acting on their own before his Shidi could finish more of his sentences.

He knows where a Head Disciple’s responsibilities start and end.

The things Ming Fan was handling are where a Head Disciple's duties started. 

He had assumed Shen Qingqiu chose him, so why is he writing all these reports?!

They don't revise and transcribe the rare scrolls to be displayed and shelved within the Qing Jing archives. 

They weren't sought out to participate in strategic counseling for the entire sect. Admittedly he had been present in these meetings long before the age fit for a disciple— him in the Sect Leader’s lap whilst said man were discussing the entire mountain peak’s next move of not exactly a direct retaliation but a solid statement that had made a particular Eastern Sect mind their own affairs now and for the foreseeable future— truly was a picture to behold.

Head Disciples didn't have their works displayed alongside cultivated masters of artistry and painting during art forums, either. Even more: their poems weren't sung and interpreted by other masters.

Some of these he'd been doing since he could remember Qing Jing Peak as his home. Since forever!

His fellow disciples’ assessments and training were rather recent. But no one was the least surprised when he had one day sheepeeshly shied his way into the hall’s head table and began teaching. No one was offended when he had corrected anyone's martial stances or guqin string placements.

Shen Yuan would have felt a bit offended if they had, and they didn't, but… shouldn't they? He's not the Head Disciple after all! He hadn't filed any paper settling himself into that position, had he? He would have surely known.

He's basically doing all of this without a title to present himself. Shen Qingqiu had not yet selected a Head Disciple after all. (Though the position’s still open, the rest of the Qing Jing disciples dared not assume the position was still available. It had already been filled the moment Shen Yuan first cried in Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan’s arms.)

It's no surprise to say he'd been busy these past few months. 

Ling Shimei and Rou Shidi had recently had respective breakthroughs, there'd been some in-fighting he had to resolve amongst some new Shidis— found out the cause of the disruption himself because no one will tell him anything— he'd been notified by a Hall Master of an inaccurate detail misprint that had been present in various scribes of the same topic, and he'd been grading papers for what felt like an eternity.

Top it all off with practicing his own cultivation and maintaining his own studies. 

Oh, and Binghe’s letters!

They had been exchanging letters for a considerable amount of time now.

Luo Binghe sent the first one, and he'd reply without fail within a day or so. It took longer when the he had been fascinated about one thing or another that he had info dumped in a previous letter, with Shen Yuan allotting a time in his day to revise the Qing Jing archives to verify his sources or add to them. Information should not be dissipated without a care.

He didn't consider it a chore, he had been happy to do so! Luo Binghe’s takes and suggestions were fun to consider. And he had learned lots about the neighboring demonfolk's culture and the inner workings of Huan Hua, with the former taking more of his interest rather than the latter.

But their scheduled letter exchanging had been disrupted, given his hectic responsibilities as of now.

His A-Die had once said he had been spending too much time and wasted far too much energy and vigor in such meaningless exchanges, and Shen Yuan hadn't dissuaded him of the matter for he had been happy to allot his everything with Luo Binghe and he had to write to Binghe soon, he couldn't afford getting baited by his A-Die!

It has been three days since Luo Binghe’s letter arrived, neatly and weighing of much importance not for the sigil but for the content sealed by it. 

He'd finally gotten the chance to review the case findings of a The Scarlet Flesh Rimu Fruit Binghe inquired about in relation to the migrating Sunlit Kakapo’s newest observed location near the eastern borders of Huan Hua. After cultivators (one can guess of which sect) “reused” their land to cultivate, because of the harmonious energy surrounding it, the Sunlit Kakapo all but dwindled in their numbers.

When Binghe mentioned it, Shen Yuan replied lamenting about how he never even got to see one before, where else could they have gone to?

Turns out, as migration is one of nature’s ways in sustaining itself, the Sunlit Kakapo’s found a home anew filled with lots of Scarlet Flesh Rimus. They were both wondering why.

Shen Yuan found samples of the berries littered on the grounds of the birds’ old home (thank you, Liu Shishu!), only if he could trouble Binghe in asking for Rimus samples, too? To compare?

Shen Yuan thought happily whilst finishing the last strokes of his letter when—

Bam!

A loud crash resounded. From Qiong Ding’s direction?

“Demons!!”

Shen Yuan froze. Then cursed as he tried to reign himself.

He couldn't afford to be scared now. Qing Jing needs someone not scared. Though above all Qing Jing needed its Peak Lord, but that'll have to do. They only have their Head Disciple for now.

“Shen Shixiong!”

“Shixiong, we came to warn! Ming Shixiong and the others are still—!”

“Where? Is anyone hurt?”

“Near the Rainbow Bridge, the demons are headed to Qiong Ding,” The Disciple said, words appearing composed, while his body shook in a way that told Shen Yuan otherwise, “And not any that I know of… our group only managed to get here because we broke off into factions.”

Shen Yuan nodded in understanding. “This Shixiong will see to it that the rest are safe. Listen, you must alert the other peaks of the situation, gather amongst fellow disciples, and send out distress signals. Do not engage, as much as possible. Understand?”

“Shixiong! Are you going alone?”

“Shen Shixiong, you mustn't—”

Lin-Shimei, kindly shut up! Stupid curse! How could he protect them if they’re all asking him to stray from danger?

Thankfully, his martial siblings’ good-willed protests were never uttered in completion.

“Is Yuan-ge running off on his own again?”

Shen Yuan couldn't even celebrate Lin-Shimei getting cut off because what the hell’s Binghe doing here?

“What’s he doing here?”

“Binghe! Wha..?”

Binghe only smiled. His Yuan-ge’s so cute.

"Yuan-ge didn't write to me back. So I came to Yuan-ge.”

Shen Yuan sputtered a response, “I’ve been busy! I was gonna write you back, Binghe…”

“Too late, it's a good thing I came, anyway. Where are your peak lords?”

Shen Yuan grimaced. “..Away.”

“Even Sect Leader Yue?” Luo Binghe probed further.

He didn't need to question where Peak Lord Shen was, as Shen Yuan told him in his letters, he was in seclusion. Luo Binghe, for one, did not approve when he had read the news, who would watch Yuan-ge! And turned out he was right to worry.

“Baba recently went off the mountain to negotiate with tribesmen. Convenient for them, isn't it?” 

“Mhm, much so. Someone had been daring as of late,” Luo Binghe said. “What will Gege do?”

But Shen Yuan’s back had already turned, wanting to reach the Rainbow Bridge before another Shidi or Shimei of his could inadvertently order him to stay out.

“What else?”

“Lead the way, then.”

Lead the way.

And as there's nothing else he could've done, and it's what he would've done anyways, he did; Luo Binghe followed compliantly.

“Binghe’s really coming? It’s not within your responsibility to…”

“Of course. I can't have Yuan-ge getting hurt.”

Well, isn't that sweet of him? 

“Alright. Keep close.”

“Is Yuan-ge worried? Don’t worry; your Binghe will protect you!”

Too sweet!

Don’t worry.

Weirdly enough, his body calmed down, which is surprising and, as he had said, weird, because when did he start feeling not calm today? He did not even notice!

Still, the words laid at rest in his heart, and in turn his heart seized its restlessness. 

He should tease Binghe back, for he knows that was what those albeit heartful words were for, to tease, but the warmth it bought was so great he had nothing else to say but this:

“Thank you. I’ll leave myself in your care then, Binghe.”

“...”

Luo Binghe paused momentarily, expression unreadable, is he having second thoughts of helping after all?

He seemed to get over it quickly though.

When they reached the rainbow bridge, it was chaos that awaited them. Disciples from varying sects all dispersed from one another, fighting and maintaining position in a frenzy. 

The demons sent were manageable enough, it was their number that overwhelmed them.

“Yuan-ge, look behind you!”

Look behind you.

He didn't have to be told twice. Literally.

The demon dropped with a thud, its severed hand lost in the fray.

“Must you insist on calling me that? I’m only a year older.”

“But Yuan-ge gave his permission!” Luo Binghe whined.

Luo Binghe took a defensive position in front of him, blocking his view of the attacking demons

He looked back at Shen Yuan, all princely and dashing, “Would Yuan-ge prefer me calling him Yuan’er?” 

That—!

“That’s the only thing you've come up with?! Ah— never mind.”

“Is Yuan’er embarrassed?”

“No. Stop that.”

“Stop fighting for your sect?”

“?? No one asked you to come anyway! And I meant my name!”

“Yuan’errrr,” He pleaded, like he'd been bullied. “How are you so sweet for a time and so cruel the next?”

Shen Yuan hadn't gotten the moment to reply, but he wouldn't have graced it with a response anyway, when the sound of small bells echoed through the clearing.

“My, my, what do we have here?”

The demon lackeys scrambled out of battle and formed somewhat of a line.

“This Ying’er only wanted to be Cang Qiong's most grateful guest, but it seems they don’t honor guests with hospitality. Such an honorable sect this is!”

“Demoness, state your business here.”

His tone caught Shen Yuan surprised, surely that hadn't come from his Binghe just now? He had been whining just moments ago!

Seeing where that voice had come from, Sha Hualing froze, clearly hadn't expected it directed at her, not having expected it to be present at all. She had at least a bit of sense left to try to correct her transgression, despite her not knowing what she had actually done to warrant this ire from her lord.

She was about to bow and honor her respects, until she remembered where they were standing. How many eyes were watching. Surely her lord would forgive this, above all else…

“This Ying’er merely wanted to exchange fighting strategies with the esteemed Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, how was she to know its disciples are so puny compared to my troops?”

She spoke haughtily to everyone else’s ears, but inside she’s cursing herself. How could she have known her lord would be here!

Inwardly, Luo Binghe knew she was scrambling too.

“This demoness should consider her place carefully,” Luo Binghe said slowly, “It seems she had forgotten it, to go against those above her as she pleases.”

The two of them were having a different conversation, unknowingly in the eyes of Cang Qiong Mountain’s bewildered and in awe of this daring cultivator.

“This one never truly meant to disrespect lor— her betters. My troops have grown restless, you see, they needed—”

“You demons sure have little to no duties to see for you lot to storm and prance around as you wish, don’t you? My, how envious.”

Luo Bunghe curled a brow, and Sha Hualing questioned herself too.

Everything was so still. Some bewildered, others curious, but everyone waited in baited breath. 

The demoness schooled her expression, face blank. She bowed in salute.

“This Saintess understands.”

Understood what, exactly? Only the concealed Heavenly Demon and his Third in Command General knew.

“This Sha Hualing crossed a line, she thanks… Cang Qiong’s patience.” She turned to face the restless line of demons, “Fall back!”

They dispersed as quickly as they tried to invade, all grumbling and trying to rid off that pre-battle nerves. Some fought amongst themselves as an outlet. 

But a few remained, not retreating, stony expressions that all said the same thing, and one of them dared enough to voice it out. 

“How dare a no name like you insult Saintess Sha!” A large demon exclaimed, “You have no right to order us as you please!”

“Yeah, that’s right! This measly brat!”

Sha Hualing’s terror grew the more this no-name demon lackey's audacity continued.

“Sha Hualing, are your soldiers right in the head? Better have that checked.” 

“Why, you—!”

Binghe’s back was turned, and as he was seriously thinking over killing these demons in favor of letting them live another day, he hadn't noticed someone swiftly approaching.

But Shen Yuan did.

In an instant he blocked the Elder Demon and countered the invasive strike that was about to come. The two weapons clanked against each other, there was a moment that felt like a standstill with neither forces relenting to get pushed back. But the Elder Demon’s frame dominates Shen Yuan’s own, and although stature is not a reliable measure of one's strength, the demon’s sheer magnitude easily covered his. A moment of close contact is enough to cut.

At first he couldn't feel it, the offending pierce was barely there. 

Then, its effect was instantaneous.

“Yuan-ge!”

He felt his body give up standing in favor of free falling and braced for an impact that never came. 

Shen Yuan was falling and in an instant he wasn't. 

Shen Yuan was cursed and in mere seconds he was cursed once more. He was double-cursed!

In months to come, he would mourn this other lack of autonomy— condemn his cursed existence and, much later, learn to live with it as he did with his birth one— but for now he's on Binghe’s lap (when did that happen?), and try as he might, nothing else could make sense other than that and the warmth that came with it.

“Yuan-ge! Yuan-ge, don't close your eyes!”

Don't close your eyes.

He glanced up at Luo Binghe’s heart stricken face.

Why is his Binghe so sad? He's just going to close his eyes for a bit..

“Where is my so— A-YUAN?!”

Is that not his A-Die? Why does he sound so angry… He’s so far though, how could he scold him from so far away?

“Get off of him!”

He wasn't conscious then, when Shen Qingqiu pulled his body from Luo Binghe, looking like he was about to lose everything again.

In the following days of Shen Yuan’s unconsciousness, Mu Qingfang’s treatments, Luo Binghe stayed around and everyone let him. Because what else could they do?

Shen Qingqiu tried to send him back to Huan Hua, but the young man was persistent to never leave Shen Yuan’s side until he woke up. And even then, when Shen Yuan did wake up, he cried and prostrated himself— and just. Did. Not. Leave.

That infuriated Shen Qingqiu even more because he knew that if his A-Yuan had it his way, Luo Binghe would never leave Cang Qiong indefinitely. And he cannot have that.

He could do nothing but fume though, because all the other peak lords did not think much of the young man’s abrupt and extended stay at the Mountain Sect. Even Yue Qingyuan found no fault in it.

He had ordered the invading demons to leave after all and there were barely any more casualties compared to what could've been.

And when Shen Yuan did wake up, groggy and head swimming from all the treatments and with his body trying to grow accustomed to Without A Cure, Luo Binghe was there with a warm congee and a handful of tears and apologies, and everyone saw what their Xiao Shen needed most while recovering.

Luo Binghe kept him company, extending his stay even more.

Shen Yuan didn't have the heart to make him leave just yet.

Binghe still seemed so guilty, he just probably wanted to repay him. 

To distract Binghe from his own thoughts, Shen Yuan indulged him. An endeavour he didn't need to push himself with since, well, he quite enjoyed talking to Binghe too. When he wasn't snivelling and attempting to look smaller than he was, like a child. 

So, pleasant conversation. Yes.

“Remember the Scarlet Flesh Rimus? I mentioned it in the letter I was going to send, before the invasion. Just a few seconds before, actually!”

“This Binghe remembers our topic very well. He would not dare to miss anything Yuan-ge shares.”

Ohhh okaay.

“In the letter, I had asked if I could bother Binghe to give me some samples.” Shen Yuan said tentatively, “Would he? Be bothered, I mean.”

“Hmm, I guess that depends, Yuan-ge,” Binghe looked as if he's considering his next words thoroughly for a moment, “Would you allow this Binghe to be selfish?”

Binghe? Selfish? In what world?

Thinking about it just seemed absurd.

That question that Binghe clearly fought himself hard not to say: would you allow this Binghe to be selfish?

Would he?

The curse didn't act upon it— because the prompting wasn't commanding in the way the curse was intended to answer— but he would, Shen Yuan thought immediately.

This was Luo Binghe asking after all, the person who he had just taken a deathly affliction for after all.

“Binghe should just ask what he wants, how can I oblige him if he doesn't?”

Though Shen Yuan knew his words were merely false pretenses. Shen Yuan realized that, if Luo Binghe were to ask him of anything, he’d do so. He only needs to ask. 

The thought should have frightened him since, for the entirety of his whole life, hadn't he done nothing else but just that? 

But the thing about Binghe is— well, the thing about how he feels Binghe is simply just this: he couldn't shake off the notion that Binghe deserves the world, and more. Why? Shen Yuan couldn't be so sure why… He’s Luo Binghe (smart, charming, devious, sincere) after all, shouldn't that be enough reason?

And perhaps the question should be why he’s thinking about Binghe too much. But Shen Yuan couldn't answer that either. He doesn't know why!

Then Binghe pouted. It felt like there wasn't a day Binghe wasn't pouting.

“I want to do it with Yuan-ge. Not by myself.”

“...”

It took Shen Yuan a few beats to gather what Binghe could have meant, until his brain pulled him back once more to the topic they were supposedly having, the topic he himself started.

“And maybe even explore Bai Lu with him? If Yuan-ge’s amendable, that is.”

“Would I even be permitted to..?” 

“No one is stupid enough to not permit me of anything. That extends to Yuan-ge.”

Shen Yuan laughs at that, feeling a familiar warmth spread itself further in him. He's grown rather fond of this cocky boy, hasn't he?

“That does sound amazing, Binghe,” He says with a smile, and interjects the idea just so he himself could stop thinking about how wonderful that’d be— “But I'm afraid A-Die’s locking me in the bamboo house even after I've recovered.”

Luo Binghe’s expression had grown remorseful upon hearing that. “Ah, I see.” 

There it is again, Binghe’s distraught expression Shen Yuan has grown to be increasingly bothered by (Binghe shouldn't ever feel sad ever!), only increasing further when Binghe’s about to say, “Yuan-ge, I’m—”

“Don't say it again, please? Binghe, I already told you hadn't I? I don't regret it and I never will.”

Binghe’s frown deepened.

“I do.”

Nope, can’t have that here!

“I should be the one apologizing, it was a bit stupid of me. I’m not normally this reckless!”

“I don't doubt it, Yuan-ge,” Binghe agreed easily.

He had said with a soft smile. So soft it makes Shen Yuan’s heart ache.

Shen Yuan’s feeling rather young, to be feeling things as immense and all-encompassing as whatever Binghe’s making him feel right now.

He is sixteen, feeling like the world all but made sense, only besides Binghe. 

Binghe, he… He makes Shen Yuan feel vulnerable. Something he had always ran away from, suppressing and hiding from it like it burns to be anything else but okay. For his parents’ sake. 

But oddly enough, he doesn't feel the need to be anything but himself with Luo Binghe.

And what is Shen Yuan without his vulnerabilities? What is anyone, really?

Like caught in a tightrope, Shen Yuan decides to handle this revelation decisively.

What revelation, you may ask?

The revelation that he’d let Luo Binghe know him entirely. That, even without the curse, he would have still had power over Shen Yuan not out of coercion and not out of his own lack of volition, but something else. A feeling Shen Yuan dare not speak of, lest it manifests itself to vex him.

And how did he handle this? By trying not to think about it too much.

He didn't have to though, for Binghe’s stay was not obsolete.

Shen Yuan supposes it was for the best when Luo Binghe didn't have time to play nursemaid with him anymore. 

“If I had it my way, I would never leave Yuan-ge’s side.” Binghe had said to him, eyes shined pleadingly as if begging him to understand. But what’s not to understand here, Binghe has duties after all and who is Shen Yuan to hog his time?

“Binghe need not explain himself! I know the responsibilities Head Disciples like you and I bear. I’m sure you have a lot to tend back in Huan Hua.”

“... Huan Hua, yes.” Binghe wore a tight smile. “They couldn't handle things without me, Yuan-ge.” 

“Are they giving you a hard time? You should still rest.”

“The people under my jurisdiction seem to be having trouble with obedience. I ought to handle the disciplinary actions myself. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Why did that sound so threatening? But he’d heard how out of touch and ill-disciplined some Huan Hua disciples are, since most of them got their spots through family recommendations and bribery, he only hopes they are not that unmanageable to be giving Binghe such a hard time.

When Binghe left, it’s like reality hit him like a ton of bricks, he came face to face with his newest predicament. 

Without A Cure is exactly what its name suggests; the world possesses no cure for it. The poison works itself into an afflicted cultivator’s bloodstream and prohibits qi circulation, causing the bearer’s spiritual energy to be stagnant. Causing Shen Yuan’s spiritual energy to be stagnant and unpredictable, and ultimately, causing his parents to freak a fuck ton over him.

The Sect Leader won't even let his son lift anything or do anything for weeks to come!

He relented after a few weeks, only through a couple of pleading, though, for Yue Qingyuan is weak to those eyes even after all these years. His Xiao Yuan took after his Xiao Jiu, after all. And Qi-ge’s just a weak, weak man.

On the other end, his A-Die became even more overbearing— something Shen Yuan didn't know could happen— never letting him stray out of his keen sight. He insisted Shen Yuan take a break from teaching the younger disciples, letting the other Hall Masters resume their duties before Peak Lord Shen transferred it to his son, and it would have been a lie if he said he won’t miss it.

The first thing he did upon hearing his new restrictions was to gather his lesson plans and individual student notes for the Hall Masters’ usage.

“Yes, we know,” Hall Master Yi had muttered, “We have prepped for this. Xiao-Shen needs only to recuperate, he does not need to worry about the little things.”

But this isn't so little! Li-Shimei was having trouble staying on queue while practicing gu qin, he had promised Mao-Shidi extra calligraphy lessons, and a halt from all the younger disciples’ regularly scheduled classes could disrupt their learning progress!

With that, Hall Master Yi dissuaded his concerns, effectively cleansing his concerns (infuriatingly so), “All that had been accounted for, must I remind Xiao Shen he had been… unconscious for a time now whilst classes and training had not ceased. The other Hall Masters and I had got it covered, Xiao Shen,” He offered reliably.

Wasn't he complaining about this not long ago? Yes he had been awfully tired but in truth, he had relished being exhausted. To know people depended on him through what he could offer. 

Now, everyone’s fretting over him more than ever before.

After Mu Shishu deemed him to be suitable enough to be discharged from Qian Cao, Shen Qingqiu tried to keep others out of his residence (keyword: tried). 

Peak Lords came to visit him, day after day, all with gifts, fans, sympathies and, admittedly, savory tea and sweets.

Some came merely just to check up on him and make idle talk, but others lingered.

Qi Qingqi had all but made herself comfortable on a cushy chair beside his bed, urging him to gossip with her about everything that had managed to reach her ears. Shen Yuan thought of his Shishu to be an exceptional conversationalist, so of course they often had tea together. She seemed to supply far more enticing details now, dangling each pieces of information above him like 

Liu Qingge had always been his favorite aside from his A-Die and Baba, but right now he’s starting to get weary. Dear Martial Uncle, this Shen Yuan does need another plant with healing properties Mu Shishu had already said won’t minimize the poison, neither will he need those ten inch Dulcet Harpy Eagle claws— though those does sound interesting— please refer to one of his Shidis outside of where to put them and, oh, his Shishu had went through all that trouble having accounting their terrain and distinctive features from normal Harpy Eagles, how wonderful! Ming Fan, please get him his notebook…

Oh but Shang Qinghua tired him the most, no competition whatsoever. At least Liu-Shishu did not talk his ear off and at the very least Qi-Shigu did not annoy him as much while conversing about relevant topics— Shen Yuan’s Shang-Shishu talked his ear off! That man was a pitiful never-ending blabber mouth who’s somehow always nervous about something. Unlike Liu Qingge, this man’s only response to anything more than mild is Flight or Flight. Which conveniently does not activate when Shen Yuan’s threatening him to curse his entire bloodline over his sorry excuse of literature. How dare this hamster of a man give him his trashy novella pieces! Get out of his room, he will read them at once!

Okay, so well yeah he did appreciate their visits, more than what he’d like to admit.

It should be weird, being close to all these cultivating, immortal adults, who are, by the way, his parents’ literal co-workers, but they care. In their own ways, they cared and looked out for him far longer than he had known how to speak (which was quite early on as their Sect Leader always bragged about whenever possible). 

Liu Qingge had just left their premises after another monster offering that left Shen Qingqiu’s front yard all bloodied and the man himself frazzledly infuriated.

Not the best way to start a conversation over this matter, but he wouldn’t have another chance because his parents would be too busy over this matter in the near future.

The matter being The Immortal Alliance Conference. It is to be held at Huan Hua palace, they demanded to be the one to do so, for no reason other than to show off their sect’s lavishness in front of the rest of the cultivation world.

The IAC is the same every four years, its premise remaining unchanging over time. To attend the conference was an honor in itself but to place a fixed rank on the leaderboard? Every budding cultivator dreamt of it. Sharpening themselves anew to be worthy of it.

Of course Shen Yuan wanted to attend. He needed to.

He so badly wanted to participate, at first that was the plan. He’d manage a score acceptable enough for the son of a Sect Leader and a Peak Lord, so his A-Die will be forced to tone down his reprimanding nature in face of his proven to be capable, mature son.

The plan has changed since the demon invasion though, with Without A Cure and all that. Not changed per se, it is just that he doesn't have the means to enact it anymore. Doesn't have the constitution for it, not anymore.

“Alright, I’ll allow it,” Shen Qingqiu agreed— wait, agreed?

Dumbfounded, Shen Yuan replied, “...You’ll allow me? I haven’t finished this presentation I prepared.”

In a similar state of confusion, Yue Qingyuan prodded gently, “Are you sure, A-Jiu?”

Shen Qingqiu bore an expression of absolute certainness in his decision-making. And just as Shen Yuan thought he had finally gotten through his father—

“Because this master can no longer ignore the fact that his only son seems to cling to danger presumably out of spite of his father.” Shen Qingqiu continued ranting, “And if not for it, that’s even worse! How many more times should you bother Mu-Shidi?!”’

Yue Qingyuan looked at ease again, seeing the man he loves doing what he loves: fussing and doting (in his own fiery way) over their son.

In a quite visible contrast, Shen Yuan just felt defeated, in a fight he never even got a chance to prep his armour. Shen Qingqiu started it all so perfectly… he refuses to get his hopes up any longer after this!

“That is to say, I’ve arranged a tracker talisman for you,” His father concluded firmly, like his was the only decision that should be taken, ever.

“You’re tracking me? That’s so—!”

The Sect Leader, who’s oftentimes the Good Cop in scenarios such as this, seemed to have resigned, took his badge off, and left the precinct.

“Your A-Die already compromised, A-Yuan should take what he’s been given.” Yue Qingyuan with a smile, the same one he used in important inter-sect meetings where he needed to look authoritative but down-to-earth, and menacing but also subdued so you should be careful not to cross that boundary. And Shen Yuan understood it, he really does, he hates that he does. How dare his Baba use it on him!

“Well?” Shen Qingqiu waited for his answer, “Is A-Yuan going with the talisman or not? We won’t accept other terms.”

“... I will attend.”

“Very well then, I trust my Head Disciple knows what to do. My A-Yuan is clearly not a child anymore, as he most frequently points out.”

Oh so he’s Head Disciple now?

“Thanking Shizun for his consideration,” He muttered, not at all pleased.

“Thank your Zhangmen-Shishu too. His words had some merit to them, for once.”

To this, the Sect Leader only looked sheepished. For they all know how his part in this usually go— nonpartisan and hoping to please both parties in whatever compromise they’d eventually all have to settle with— it’s very rarely seen, Yue Qingyuan’s side of things for he had always been in the middle between his husband and son’s ever-occurring tiffs.

Pray tell, what is he supposed to do when faced, doubled-over, with the eyes he’d loved for decades since his childhood? Those ever-familiar brow creases he had broken his soul for? He would do it all over again, for this reality wherein he could see both sets of eyes in their wake and again before sleep nulled them tight together.

He’s a weak man after all. He bends himself if necessary and, if it is demanded of him, he’d rather cut himself in half than to ever greatly upset either of them.

It seems Shen Yuan’s ‘inherent charm to attract danger’, as Shen Qingqiu would say it to be, has finally won Yue Qingyuan over to his husband’s side.

“Thank you, Zhangmen-Shixiong, for your gracious input,” Shen Yuan said with a snark his parents loved.

Yue Qingyuan took pity, but not enough to be swayed, “A-Yuan shouldn’t feel displeased about our arrangement…”

“And yet I continue to be just so.”

“Your A-Die and I are only—”

“— Looking out for me, yes I understand,” Shen Yuan finished for him.

Shen Qingqiu raised a brow condescendingly, “Do you? My, I would have never guessed.”

Months went by, and Shen Yuan gradually accepted the poison in his spiritual veins and bloodstream. 

As he did with everything thrown at him, he made do. 

His routines now consisted of regular qi circulations by either Yue Qingyuan or Shen Qingqiu, as well as timely check-ups with Mu Qingfang to see how well he’s been fairing with the medications that offered his ailment no permanent effects.

He only thought of it as his new normal. This is his life now. On top of being cursed to never disobey any demanding utterance, he’s also ladened with an incurable poison that disrupts his hard-earned cultivation and puts himself in irregular qi flareups. What a life.

Now, a month before the IAC, its host extended an agenda that's unlike before. It had said in fancy red print that participants are requested to arrive a week before the conference officially began. To wear out the exhaustion caused by travel and to have sufficient allotted time for practice and, as the decree especially highlighted, community building.

Shen Qingqiu somehow found a way to be offended by it all.

“That cunning brat!” Shen Qingqiu exclaimed at the new decree, “I take it back!”

Shen Yuan shrieked, “A-Die!”

“Now, now, A-Jiu. We gave A-Yuan our word, hadn't we?”

Shen Qingqiu’s glare intensified.

“Hmph. No matter, I won’t let him leave my sight regardless.”

“And mine either,” Yue Qingyuan quipped lovingly, his posture behind Shen Qingqiu not unlike that of a wagging puppy. In Shen Yuan's case, a guard dog. 

“Our A-Yuan is a good boy, A-Jiu shouldn't worry.”

“You know I’m still here.”

Something tells him that they do.

In another life, Shen Yuan would have known what attending the IAC entailed, but not in this one.

So he looked forward to it, unaware of what it would bring.

All he knows now is that the road’s too long and that he's very excited to see Binghe win. Or to see Binghe in general.

And when he does, he greets him with a proud grin that suits his face best, Shen Yuan thinks.

“Has Gege come to see me win?”

How nice is it for the Huan Hua Head Disciple to greet their traveling party upon arrival. If he had done this to every sect, shouldn't he be tired? But Binghe’s amazing after all, exhaustion never plagues him, as it seems.

“I suppose… as it is the only thing I could do now,” Shen Yuan muttered.

To his amusement, Luo Binghe looked panicked.

“Yuan-ge! I didn't mean it like that—!”

Shen Yuan only chuckled, “I know, Binghe. I was merely joking, don't fret.”

“Yuan-ge… You shouldn't joke about that to me,” Luo Binghe sighed, and his gaze suddenly looked serious and true, “I will endeavour to make Yuan-ge’s time worthwhile.”

Seeing you is enough, his heart screams.

His lips don't echo it back.

There are things he can't seem to act upon, inspite of the curse's lack of agency.

“I’ll be in Binghe’s care then.”

“Absolutely not. Qi-ge, are you seeing this!?” Then, Shen Qingqiu demanded, “A-Yuan, come here!”

Come here.

Shen Yuan suppressed a loud sigh.

“I’m sorry, Binghe! I have to go, see you soon!”

He didn't get the chance to see him that day. Or the day after.

Shen Qingqiu practically has him on an invisible leash! 

“A-Yuan, stay, won't you greet Madam Chu? ”

Stay.

A-Die!!!

“Ah, Xiao Shen, it's been so long! Come here, let me have a look at you!”

He gave a sorry look at Binghe, who understood what’s been keeping him from conversing and left them be. 

Luo Binghe had only assumed the culprit to be Shen Qingqiu, but not quite. If he could disobey— something he would have perfected the art of if not for the curse— Shen Yuan would have gone astray by now.

A few dozen gruelling conversations later, they found each other again, backed against the wall and silhouettes covered by a group of conversing rich merchants idle talking their way out of this friendly pre-conference pretenses set up by Huan Hua.

“Binghe, over here!” Shen Yuan whisper-shouted.

Luo Binghe found him, in fact his eyes never left Shen Yuan at all since they’ve entered. He could feel his gaze throughout the evening and he didn’t want to leave there unresolved.

Before he could start, Shen Yuan had already instructed him to utter something else. 

“Binghe, say: Yuan-ge, please come with me,” He ordered shyly, “Please, this—”

“Yuan-ge, please come with me,” Luo Binghe echoed, obediently and unquestioningly.

Shen Qingqiu’s previous instructions pulled away from his whole being, in its place now holds Luo Binghe’s. The command felt like his own. Well, it was his own, he had uttered it, Luo Binghe only made it possible to obey himself. 

His body acted upon it immediately, to his delight.

Quietly but as quickly as possible, they carried out Shen Yuan’s will that evening: they snuck out of the party.

The night was quieter outside. People and the social-one-uping made the whole place seem stuffier than it already was. Do not be mistaken, Huan Hua Palace, above all else, will always be about social-one-uping and gatherings that hail banquets for days. But this night, tonight, it seemed less of that and more like Luo Binghe’s home, to him. Which really puts things into perspective. He remembers a Qing Jing debate he had with a Shimei a few years before, he never thought he’d see Huan Hua in this new light. 

They made side-detours all around the place, for every corridor that Luo Binghe had a story or remark to. The pair walked side by side, their step echoing the vastness of Huan Hua’s golden floorings, as they talked about nothing, and it was, quietly, everything to the both of them.

Shen Yuan preferred Qing Jing’s greens and bamboos, as well as Qiong Ding’s opulent gardens littered with gazebos, but he’d like to commit their strolling of Huan Hua’s gardens if only for Luo Binghe’s jests and insights about the design and every head’s competency. After which, they headed to the library.

“Are you sure I can borrow these?”

“Yuan-ge can have them if it pleases him, no one makes any use of them around here.”

Shen Yuan believed his words, but still felt looting. He tried to trust in Luo Binghe’s judgement of what’s acceptable until he easily took all the books he’d been holding, joining them on top the stack of the ones he had been eyeing since they’ve entered, a growing pile he had been evidently not paying any attention to.

“Binghe’s too generous in lending these, I think making you carry them is enough to take advantage of it, doesn’t he think so?”

Luo Binghe only assured him, “I’m glad to be of any service to Yuan-ge”

“Binghe, ah, you should not say stuff like that so casually..”

“Why not?” The other only quirked a brow curiosly.

“What do you mean why not? If you had said that to any Shimei or Jiejie, they’d be led on!”

Luo Binghe still seemed confused, though, and how could he be when he’d already laid it out?

Shen Yuan inwardly sighed. 

“I know Binghe’s not the type to do that though, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful about these things… feelings tend to complicate stuff. You don't want them to get in the way of every single thing.”

“Yuan-ge’s right of course, ever so wise. Maybe I should call you Shizun instead— how does that sound?”

“Binghe, don’t mock me…”

“Your Binghe will never!” He said in a tone anyone hearing them would insinuate that he has, and is. “But ah, Yuan-ge, when I said what I had said, you said I shouldn't say ‘stuff like that’, then what feelings could it have complicated between us with me saying that to you?”

“Oh! Well, I—” Shen Yuan sputtered embarrassingly as he concluded in his head that he’s an idiot, “I didn't mean it like that, of course.”

“What did Yuan-ge not mean?”

“Ah… I merely—!”

The books in Luo Binghe’s hands shook to the beat of his laughing, “I'm only kidding! Yuan-ge’s so cute, so easily embarrassed. I couldn’t help but tease him…”

“You!!” Shen Yuan muttered, “I should’ve just talked senselessly with those Madames, if you’re just going to treat me like this.”

He placed another book on top of the stack aggressively, to make a point, but it only amused Luo Binghe more.

“But I did mean what I said though,” Luo Binghe started once more, tone anew.

“Hmm?”

“I didn't promise it casually, I meant it when I said it.”

Oh. 

“I’m glad to be of any service to Yuan-ge.”

“Binghe… I don't understand?”

He thinks he does though.

Shen Yuan wanted him to just say it, so he could return it. Only if he’d ask.

But Binghe only smiled at him, gentle— always so gentle— and awfully sincere. His eyes bore deep, like Shen Yuan was the only thing in the world.

“I’ll just have to make Yuan-ge understand, then.”

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

As it seems, Luo Binghe could not get enough of speaking riddle-ish around him.

“It means your Binghe will work very hard.”

His Binghe..? Huh.

“But Binghe already works hard as he is now, he shouldn't overwork himself just to…” He trails off, trying to find the words for whatever this is.

Luo Binghe finished it for him.

“I’ll be happy to, for Yuan-ge.”

On the week of which befalls the IAC, one of the Palace Master’s informational spies caught word that there were talks of demon clans uniting under a common ruler, which was unheard of after Tianlang-jun's imprisonment. Demonfolk were slowly reclaiming territories near the boundaries.

That means one thing: they weren't afraid to retreat anymore… What changed?

Demons, by all means they were not coordinated, but they were also consistent if one studies their history of rulership. 

They only ever bow to a ruler stronger than them, a heavenly demon. He'd checked Tianlang-jun’s prison, he was still there looking worse for wear, and his snake general was killed decades ago, so who? The late heavenly demonic emperor did not have any bastards or heirs, all four of the great sects fact checked this relentlessly, he was sickenly devoted to Su Xiyan— oh.

But it couldn't be! Su Xiyan drank that vial all those years ago— didn't she?

All that thinking was hurting the palace master’s brain, and his daughter made it all worse with her whining.

“I don’t know what’s so special about that Shen Yuan anyway! He’s so weird, but everyone likes him,” The Little Palace Mistress decreed irritatingly, “No one even noticed my new headpieces!”

How awful.

“Baba? Babaa!”

“Just go on, dear,” The Palace Master replied absent mindedly, not sparing her a glance. 

He cared for his daughter, of course, in a way a man loves his riches,

But he cared not for her silly ramblings. She’d grown rather spoiled and demanding, which further establishes his power— with the Palace Mistress’ trend-setting accessories and lavish clothing, on top of her pampered attitude, serves as another statement of how up Huan Hua Palace is compared to all others, even that Cang Qiong brat—

It is as if to say: the money you try to gain for yourself in a lifetime pales in comparison in the vastness of my luxuries, my daughter spends 

So he lets her be as she is, even encouraging it on some occasions just to extend the fact.

But now’s not the time for her to be a nuisance, a fact she doesn't seem to be aware of. There are a lot of things the Little Palace Mistress is severely unaware of.

“He’s honestly so weird! Like, that one time yesterday, I told him to ‘hop off and scram’, and he did just that! He actually hopped off, like a frog, in my garden, who does that?”

“And when I had managed to get him away from Luo-gege for a bit— he does whatever I want like a stupid slave but with an awful sneer! Why do something you don't wanna do?” She shrieked, like she's the one who had been humiliated, “And Luo-gege berated me so severely, too! Who does that Shen think he is, charming him like that!”

That he can agree on, “Those Shens are pests, my dear.”

“Baba, I fear we have extended our invitations far too wide to be surrounded with people like him..”

“... That Shen Yuan,” He prompts his daughter, “He really did whatever you wanted him to?”

“It’s like what I’ve told you, Baba! He’s a freak who should've been a slave servant!”

A slave.

That word brings nothing but memories. With his age, he has them in abundance. With his cultivation, he had spent years with them in the back of his mind. He held no remorse for them, each memory serves to aid him remember all he’d done to get here. All he had conquered and seized to deserve his place.

One such memory flickers and starts in mind.

He supposes it all started with the fall of the Qius.

Huan Hua had had taken more effort in subduing and catching particular rogue demonic cultivators after the Qiu Manor went down in flames, taking all but its female residents and servants, grounding them to ash. He had seen more horrific things done to more considerable amounts of populations, but the Qius earned a significant part of the trade industry, a spot that had long since been filled out since then, but at that time the sects and high ranking nobles were on edge, and so therefore a tragedy.

They all but clung to their position of power, visible claw marks and pools of blood slid below their stolen thrones, and the Palace Master was the very same. He did not pride himself to be apart of them, in fact, he’s higher than them in all aspects. He prided himself to be worse than them. Greed and corruption’s all he’s ever known, he practiced it like an art, it would have been a trouble for him if he’d start unlearning it now at the height of his power. In a bird’s eye view he’d never allow himself to fall from. 

The view from high above was transversive, and he oversaw all things that need be.

One such demonic cultivator raised his curiosity. 

Wu Yanzi was nothing but a nuisance. The Palace Master, he thought to himself once, decades ago, that he might have been a helpful one if used accordingly. And oh he did. The Palace Master only regretted disposing of him abruptly after.

He had heard news of rogue cultivators practicing demonic cultivation and luring others to the same path of destruction before. Long before the current generation of Cang Qiong Peak Lords, but not so long ago wherein he wasn't Huan Hua’s Palace Master.  

Huan Hua did not actively pursue them, demonic cultivation practitioners existed no matter the era or rulings imposed on them, but the sects did try to keep an eye on their numbers and progress, lest they become meddlesome to the more refined sectors of the cultivation world.

That is to say, he’s not one to turn down an opportunity at hand. 

When he had gotten hand of a demonic cultivator, one that has had a steady business over the years and had been tied to numerous cases, he did expect him to be missing a few limbs. Two limbs in fact. 

The Palace Master didn't even have to do anything before Wu Yanzi started handing it all to him.

Due to his permanent state of being two limbs shorter than normal, he can't do his demonic cultivation like he used to and can’t lure people into damnation anymore so he found a different job: cursed arrays formulation. He had called it vexing, in a tone that could only suggest he’s proud of what he had accomplished. It had been quite a sight, a demonic cultivator in chains, missing an arm and a leg, acting as boastful as a king like a beacon of wealth. But the Palace Master had to admit it then, Wu Yanzi was doing well for himself, for he had made quite a name targeting nobles and lesser cultivators.  

To speak of it easily, what Wu Yanzi calls ‘vexing’ is a curse array formation technique. Magic arrays are merely formations that activate and amplify in power with an energy source. Energy is all throughout, the world never runs out of it and for an old, bitter, and yet alarmingly resourceful man like Wu Yanzi, he fed off of resentment. He has got enough resentment of his own, but for clients seeking his services he had had to use theirs. Of course he never had to ask, anyone who willingly came to him had damned enough souls to care.

What drew these cultivators, nobles, and high-ranking lords to his services though was its anonymity. Wu Yanzi had perfected curse arrays that couldn't be tracked. No traces of the castor could be found. There is only his signature formations and borrowed resentment and nothing else about his client. Unlike spiritual power, resentment’s far more transversive and difficult to pin-point ownership. Any information beyond the fact that a demonic cultivator activated the curse array and how its nature affects its victim is hidden by mutilated, contaminated resentment.

Because of the newfound power at his disposal, the Palace Master grew cocky, demanding more from the capacity of what the other sects allowed. Like taking demonic territory as his own.

The whole cultivation world scorned demons, but it’s an ancient treaty, older than their ancestors, to always separate the human and demon realms from one another.

If in some way shape or form they did converge, it alters both realms impossibly so that only destruction can only come from it (see: the endless abyss, its a boundary of both realms, and its HORRIBLE and inhospitable, just by setting those two realms apart it touches both too thats why its Like That) and stupid ahh palace master wants to conquer demonfolk’s lands for resources

Shen Qingqiu wasn't afraid to speak his mind (as he often does) though, because who’s gonna stop him? The Lord of Qing Jing Peak, second in authority only to Yue Qingyuan, Cang Qiong’s Sect Leader, also his literal husband. 

“Wu Yanzi, I want them out of my way. Do what you must.”

“I know the Qing Jing Peak Lord. From way before.”

“Oh, this master wasn't aware that the two of us are chatting when one of us has work to get onto?”

Wu Yanzi spoke anyway, “....He is not who they seem to be, he is a slave. He was of the Qiu Estate, he came to me seeking tutelage.”

The sheer distaste was evident, like every word was clawed out of him, such a display that he could only proclaim was to be resentful. Wu Yanzi resented Shen Qingqiu.

The workings of fate amused the Palace Master a little, and so he had to ask, “Is that where your right arm and left leg went? My, what a ferocious disciple you had.”

Wu Yanzi spat hatefully, “That brat had HELP! He couldn't have taken me down alone, they were two slave brats!”

Though he couldn't have bothered to listen more as the demonic cultivator trailed off. How dare that Shen Qingqiu look down on HIM when he was merely some slave brat who somehow bewitched Cang Qiong’s finest to reach the top. His means of gaining power were of duplicitous treachery, the Palace Master thought, seemingly having forgotten about the number of brothel ladies he seeked services with.

What difference does that make the two of them for him to be condemned and scorned upon by the likes of Shen Qingqiu, he had bitterly thought then and even now— never for a second thinking of the hall masters he had bribed their titles with for a night in his chambers.

It was enough to make him stop and consider it as an integral part of his plan. But no, it was fruitless to even consider it substantial enough to take the Peak Lord down.

“And what am I to do with that information? What substantial evidence could be used against that pest with merely that? From what I gathered, you just revealed yourself to be an accomplice to the Qiu’s demise,” A slip of tongue that the Palace Master is glad for, he has more leverage over Wu Yanzi. Though it is highly more probable that the demonic cultivator was that stupid as to reveal all he knows at the Palace Master’s feet.

“Think of something, get them out of my way!”

“Yes, Palace Master.” Wu Yanzi muttered grimly, and finally went out of his sight.

Some time had passed, and not a word of whatever curse array he had formed against the Qing Jing Peak Lord reached his ears.

He outrightly asked him, “Is Shen Qingqiu dead?”

“No, Palace Master. This one had managed to vex him as to—”

“Is he stripped of his titles?” 

“...No”

“Then he still has power. He’s still a disruption to Huan Hua.” To the Palace Master, him. “

Seeming to notice his dissatisfaction, Wu Yanzi tended to beg his patience, “But the curse I planted—” But it was too late. 

“Then what use are you to me?”

The Palace Master had never prided himself to be patient after all. 

He killed him with no second thought. Because it was exactly like that, what use is Wu Yanzi to him?

Cang Qiong still had a master strategist, one who besotted their Sect Leader so severely to want to marry him and raise a child with. Securing his position indefinitely. And Wu Yanzi dared think whatever he did was useful? Think of himself as useful?

And now… The Palace Master put two and two together. 

That spell, no, that curse that Wu Yanzi enacted on the Shens is the most gratifying and effective way of damning Shen Qingqiu. He even had half the mind to feel regret about Wu Yanzi’s disposal. Not for killing him, never for the killing, it’s merely for the fact that he could have extended his usefulness a while longer than he had. What a waste, he thought now, decades after he pierced that demonic cultivator’s heart to shreds.

Decades ago, he had thought nothing amiss of Shen Yuan, Cang Qiong’s beloved— as everyone present may seem to describe him. He was merely another face on that Mountain Sect he so wishes to crumble down. Of course he heard of the boy’s artistry and unparalleled feats of, all of which left him bitter. Of course only Shen Qingqiu could produce another two-faced brat.

It’s funny, really, that the brat was as much a slave as Shen Qingqiu is. Probably even more, given that birth-curse Wu Yanzi had gifted decades ago. How fun for him.

“Baba! Are you even listening!?”

“Your concerns were heard, dearest. I am off to deal with it now.”

“Really? That’s wonderful, Baba! Tell me how it goes!”

Oh how wonderful it’ll all be.

It was the night before the official start of the IAC, this week had been nothing more than a farce of socializing and goodwill among sects that covers whatever intentions Luo Binghe had with that Shen Yuan of all people. Of course he had known it was merely a display, but it had been a good idea then when that child proposed it, it was a chance for Huan Hua to show off after all. He commended him.

Everything worked out quite neatly for him, didn’t it all? Each piece lay right where they needed them, not unlike a game of Go. This one disc stone in particular is more useful to him.

A knock came to the young Shen’s lodgings, when its door opened the Palace Master awaited him.

“Good evening, Xiao Shen. Ah, they do call you Xiao Shen, don’t they? Or do you not prefer it?”

Shen Yuan eyed him warily, hand on the door handle still, “Good evening, Palace Master. You may call me whatever, this one won’t mind. What is the Palace Master’s reason for visiting this Shen Yuan tonight?”

The Palace Master ignored his questioning, eager to test out his new findings.

“You really won’t mind? Come now, say: The Palace Master may call me Xiao Shen.”

Say: The Palace Master may call me Xiao Shen.

“The Palace Master may call me Xiao Shen—” He echoed immediately, and slapped a hand over his mouth, “..What..?”

The Palace Master let himself in, his ill presence dominating the room and made him feel as if he’s shrinking. A wicked smile faced him as it instructed once more, “Close the door, Xiao Shen.”

Close the door.

When he did, his body shook. How did he know? What is he planning to do? Should he shout for A-Die and Ba—

“Don’t call for anyone, they would only disrupt our negotiation.”

Don’t call for anyone.

Shen Yuan glared at him, to which he only smiled.

“Good boy. This won’t be so hard, trust me.”

“What do you have to negotiate with me, of all people?” He had managed to say, expression schooled neutrally, just like how Shen Qingqiu taught him.

“Oh, Xiao Shen, we both know why you’re most fit for it. I know all about the curse that plagues you, since your birth.”

“... What does the Palace Master want.”

“I want you to do what I tell you to do, exactly as I want it to be. It will only come easy to you after all, who better to get the job done?”

“Enough of this. Tell me what you want.”

The Palace Master only smirked, looking not at all displeased. He has gotten used to it from Shen Qingqiu.

He scoffed, “Very well, but I want you to shut your mouth till I’ve finished.”

Shut your mouth till I’ve finished.

“At tomorrow’s Immortal Alliance Conference, Xiao Shen will stab Luo Binghe when it's only just the two of them,”

He watched Shen Yuan’s eyes grow big with terror with every word he uttered, and enjoyed the look on this young man’s face. He never thought he’d admire Shen Qingqiu’s face, but this little Shen wore it so beautifully like this— frightened and backed into a corner.

“Xiao Shen will not tell anyone about this command before and after having accomplished this task, of course. Poor thing, should I have told you about this earlier in the morning, that way you wont have to kill yourself with guilt tonight Oh, don’t kill yourself, I forbid it. I know you’ll at least try to.”

Shen Yuan cringed, that was the first thing he was going to try. 

“Xiao Shen may try as he might to escape tomorrow’s events but it shall all end the same. You will stab Luo Binghe.”

Shen Yuan couldn't sleep that night. He did not dare to.

Why had the Palace Master ordered him to begin with? Luo Binghe was his Head Disciple, one who had bought Huan Hua more fame with his feats and saved the sect’s tarnished name. His only conclusion to that is that the Palace Master was a sick bastard who needed to get as far away from Luo Binghe as possible.

Maybe that’s why Luo Binghe’s always visiting him in Cang Qiong, under the guise of owing him a debt for the poison? Shen Yuan cursed himself, he should have known.

He ran countless scenarios and conjured up possible solutions that’ll make this hurt less. He didn't get much of it though, for the sun had already risen, because unlike him not a soul could order it to dim its light. He has always mourned for his will; the life he could have lived at this moment if not for his birth curse.

He has never tasted freedom to begin with, but the invisible shackles surrounding his volition tightened even more. They rarely felt this restrictive. With each command uttered by another person, the shackles bind him to obey in the way locks of braided hair tighten into one another, sturdy and secure.

Some commands were easy enough to obey, his parents’ orders or the hall masters’ and his martial aunts and uncles’ requests were demands he would have done in the same manner without his birth curse. He did not resist them; the shackles laid dormant and firm. Of course, not every demand was to his liking, and it displeases him to no end of how easy it is for his body to comply with them, but the shackles had never hurt him in this extremity. They merely tugged, a pulling force that anchored him to act in accordance to whatever it is that demanded it from him.

The shackles had always been immovable, but now they coiled throughout his body to suffocate him to no end. Air has never felt more of a luxury, for with every movement he could muster it felt as if every muscle and fiber of his body disobeyed him. The more he thought about escaping the Palace Master’s commands, the more he planned, the harder the shackles nailed him down, closing in every pathway for his will to act upon itself.

All while the sun rises at its own graceful pace, mocking him. As the birds chirped and flew with the winds’ gentle breezes. He mourned his freedom once more, watching trees bend with the winds’ dance and never break. He had always wondered that, if the only thing that sets people apart from the rest of the earth’s inhabitants was the cognitive ability that directs conscious action, what does that make him?

He has his own will, and yet his body won’t initiate upon it and so he had thought of himself one with the sparrows and bunnies who were mere subjects to their own biology and nature. Shen Yuan always shared his incessant ramblings with his parents, it’s only natural for him as a child to speak his mind.

Upon hearing his seven-year-old son’s simplification of what plagues him— his son comparing himself to critters and only being a slave to anyone— Shen Qingqiu felt himself crumbling.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord knelt down to meet his A-Yuan’s own perspective of the world, took tiny soft hands into hands that could only try to be, and said to the child firmly, “You will always be your own person. A-Yuan should be able to do what A-Yuan wants.”

“But A-Yuan can’t...”

“A-Die will make sure he can,” A hand reached for a cheek, but it had hoped to reach more, “Can A-Yuan make him a promise?”

Shen Yuan only nodded, too eager to get back to chasing butterflies. Shen Qingqiu, used to it, squeezed the cheek he’d been holding to listen. Back then, the man was too scared to make anu utterance that could be turned into an unwanted, forceful command, opting for physical reprimands and stern eye glares that, on its own, screamed don't test me.

Qing Jing Peak’s greens and quiet, hard-fought tranquility filled Shen Yuan's childhood. As well as Qiong Ding’s stable foundations and utter stillness that reflected its courtyards. Something peaceful could only have been a product of a gruelling battle to persist and want more than what fate had predestined, a desire to love and be hurt and yet still long for it. Like Shen Yuan himself. 

“Listen well; even if A-Die won’t agree of all of A-Yuan's desires, A-Yuan should always think about what he wants. Even if he can’t act upon them yet.”

Listen well.

A-Yuan should always think about what he wants.

Green eyes met his own, a clear reflection of what he had endured to have this, to have his A-Yuan, to be here with him in Qing Jing basking in its greens. Over the years, Shen Qingqiu had grown to love his eyes.

“Mhm! A-Yuan will always think what he wants! Can I go back to playing now?”

He went back to chasing butterflies.

Now, Shen Yuan could do no more but envy the ones outside the window. They have no way of knowing the colors and intricacies of their wings but they soared the courtyard regardless.

The rest of the morning was a blur. He was somewhere and the next, then he’s seated next to his parents gazing down on the line of promising participating disciples. He wasn't one of them. He won’t be participating, he’ll never be anywhere near Luo Binghe for the duration of the conference— if everything runs smoothly as it should be— but he now knows better than to get his hopes up. Shen Yuan resolutely understands that whatever command that’s been demanded from him will act upon his body one way or another, and it’s only a matter of time. He will never be able to escape it, and Luo Binghe—

“A-Yuan, what’s wrong? You seem unfocused,” Yue Qingyuan said, taking notice of his out of sorts.

“He probably hadn't slept a wink after disappearing from yesterday’s events,” Shen Qingqiu replied for him. “Don’t think we hadn't noticed.”

“It would’ve been fine, you’re tracking me aren't you?”

“It’s precautionary. A-Yuan ought to be more capable than he proclaims himself to be. He had begged to attend this conference after all.”

“Yes, yes. Sorry, A-Die.”

Shen Qingqiu eyed him assessingly, clearly expecting more of a fight, “...It’s good you understand, then.”

But Shen Yuan’s mind was already absent again.

A fan hid Shen Qingqiu’s private remarks with his husband, “Something’s wrong with him. He didn't protest more.”

“A-Jiu’s right. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on our A-Yuan.”

“That’s what you should have done yesterday!”

“Ah, but A-Jiu was preoccupied with this one too...”

“Hmph. Maybe Qi-ge’s the one who’s unfocused as of late.”

“A-Jiuu,” The Sect Leader pleaded.

Sufficient time had passed and Luo Binghe showed great progress above all, as to be expected. Despite the gaggle of Huan Hua disciples trailing him behind like lost ducklings sent out to the wild, he managed to be on par with other promising candidates. They seemed so lost before their Shixiong guided them through the competition. Everyone knew that if Luo Binghe was any less kind hearted than he is, he would have dominated the leaderboard immediately. Shen Yuan could only hope that those disciples’ loyalty manages to shine through in the end, he hopes they’d be there when it happens and they can stop it.

Then, everything happened all at once. The beasts and fauna rebelled, and whilst the disciples were trying and failing to fight those back next came the demons and the barrier diminished completely. This caused the hunted beasts to escape, about to wreck havoc on the neighboring town.

Peak Lord Shen ordered for the spectating cultivators to handle the fray of beasts, for the remaining him to coax the barrier, and for Shen Yuan to—

“Stay here. Don’t leave this platform!”

Stay here.

Don’t leave this platform.

He wasn't going to. In fact he’d been begging for his mind to think of a way to just stay here. 

Shen Yuan bid his parents goodbye, and made them promise they’d be safe, to which Shen Qingqiu only scoffed at, “A-Yuan should worry about himself,” and took off.

Yue Qingyuan lingered for a beat, “A-Yuan’s sure he will be okay alone?”

“I can’t go anywhere, A-Die. Plus, you and Baba will always know where I am.”

That did not seem to reassure the man, “I’ll handle this quickly, your A-Die won’t be for long.”

Shen Yuan knows he will not be, his A-Die has a way of always being on time.

With the change of events, he wondered how this would all end. Could he truly escape it? If his body could only obey Shen Qingqiu’s recent words and no one else’s, he can stay here away from Luo Binghe, unable to hurt him.

Through the panicked and rustling crowd, he suddenly locked eyes with the Palace Master’s own.

He cursed himself for looking, but a part of him knew that the Palace Master would have found a way to get close to him regardless, now that Cang Qiong’s Sect Leader and Qing Jing’s Peak Lord were elsewhere, occupied with protecting his sect and the people it’s supposed to be under its care.

Horror crossed his face as the Palace Master faintly echoed his previous command the night before, barely even a whisper, but his birth curse recognized it and struggled to not comply.

You will stab Luo Binghe.

And, as it always has, Shen Yuan’s body complied to words that aren’t his own.

He passed the diminishing barrier undetected by Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan, for they had already relieved themselves in the notion that their son will remain where he was, away from the destruction. They never would have begun worrying until everything was all over.

Shen Yuan dashed through, body eager to fulfill that damning command, when he spotted Ming Fan and the rest of Qing Jing’s representatives. 

“Shen-Shixiong!”

“Shixiong, what’s going on?”

Ming Fan worried as he took note of his expression, “Is Shen-Shixiong alright?”

“Shidi has ropes, right? Quick—! Tie me to that tree,” Shen Yuan ordered frantically.

“Shixiong?! That’s!” One Shimei exclaimed.

“Uh Shixiong is not alright,” Ming Fan correctly concluded, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you to Shizun…”

“No, NO! You have to do as I say!”

Before he could protest more, a shriek interrupted him.

“EEEKK ARE THOSE—?!”

“—SPIDERS!”

In an instant, they were surrounded by Ghost-head Spiders. They crawled upon the trees and attacked them as they lured the Qing Jing disciples into a circle.

“Those are Ghost-head Spiders, don’t let it get close to you,” Shen Yuan stated obviously. “The only way to stop them is by stabbing them directly at their temples, If you can manage!”

“Of course I can manage that, Yuan-ge,” Luo Binghe emerged from the clearing.

In an instant (like all of the revelations and events of today), everything he had been avoiding and dreaming of stood before him. And in between the both of them were a few dozen shrieking Ghost-head Spiders that are trying to puncture them all to their deaths.

Luo Binghe made quick work with them, doing as Shen Yuan told him to do, attacking each spider’s weak points with precision until, with much gruelling group effort, they managed to subdue them.

“Is Yuan-ge alright?”

Shen Yuan wanted to cry. He thinks that if he manages to open his mouth, the only thing that will come out of it is him weeping. He smiled and nodded.

“Tch, show off,” Ming Fan muttered.

Luo Binghe did not hear Ming Fan, or did not care enough to acknowledge him, “Why is Yuan-ge here? Does Peak Lord Shen know you’re here?”

“... A-Die knows where I am,” He lied truthfully, because how is he to know if Shen Qingqiu does not know where he is right now? He could access his location through the talisman, so who’s to say he and the Sect Leader aren't barging their way here as of this moment?

“That’s good then, but Yuan-ge did not answer my first question.”

Seriously, what is up with all these questions..! Shouldn’t Luo Binghe be asking about the state of things outside the barrier? Why are creatures from the Endless Abyss and the Demon Realm wrecking havoc upon the IAC? Do the immortal sect masters have any clue who’s responsible?

Shen Yuan himself did not know the answers, but it would have made him feel better if someone were as confused and shaky as he was! 

Before he could conjure up another not-lie, a larger swarm of Ghost-head Spider greeted them. Female Ghost-head Spiders.

Luo Binghe immediately pulled him back to the side as the spiders leapt towards their group. This put them at a distance from the rest of the Qing Jing Disciples, and as the female Ghost-head Spiders are more viscous and their appearances more horrifying, their group eventually scattered with only a few left in sight.

Looking back, Shen Yuan thought of it all to be convenient, the way they all separated leaving only him and Luo Binghe. He drew out a scary revelation: had he been unconsciously attacking and maneuvering in a way to lead Luo Binghe and himself away, just to fulfill the Palace Master’s command? There’s no other possible explanation. He had truly lost control of himself.

He had thought it’d be okay, that Luo Binghe would be safe, when they got together with his Shidis because he knew that they’d never leave him of his own accord, especially during an attack. He trusted his martial siblings to always rat him out to their Shizun. Of all the times, it should have come in handy now. But it hadn't, his Shidis didn't get the chance to tie him onto a tree— they may have seemed reluctant but they have never failed to disobey him before, they would have caved in— stupid Spider-head Spiders, stupid Shen Yuan!

“Yuan-ge, are you sure you’re alright?”

They were alone. No other disciples were in sight and all that’s left are the dead spiders littered around them.

“Binghe— Binghe, you have to listen to me, okay?”

Luo Binghe looked at him funny, “Yuan-ge, of course—”

“Get as far away from me as possible!”

“—Not. What is Yuan-ge saying? How could I leave you here?”

“It’s for your own good..!”

Shen Yuan wondered why the curse didn't act up yet, undoubtedly he was grateful for it, but what’s stopping it when it’s only the two of them? He looked around and saw a half-dead Ghost-head Spider to his right. Oh!

Without much more thought (as he always does), he picked up the spider and ran.

“YUAN-GE?”

Xiao Shen will stab Luo Binghe when it's only just the two of them.

Shen Yuan had a plan now. He still had the will to run away, his birth curse couldn't restrict him for now because he and Luo Binghe were not alone. This one half-dead Ghost-head Spider was their third wheel! He still ran away though, for good measure, he needed Luo Binghe to be safe and away from him. And the Palace Master, hopefully, in the foreseeable future, but now most importantly, away from Shen Yuan’s cursed mangled spirit and body.

Unfortunately, Luo Binghe himself did not get the memo.

“Yuan-ge, it’s dangerous out there!”

“You don’t know how dangerous it’d be with me here!”

Luo Binghe shouted back, “What is Yuan-ge saying??”

The Head Disciple's clearly stressed. Poor thing. The whole demon invasion must’ve taken a toll on him, trying to save his fellow disciples and stuff. Wait, shouldn't he be doing just that? As Head Disciple? Save for Shen Yuan, he’s quite busy at the moment trying to subdue a birth curse and a body constantly experiencing qi fare ups.

“Shouldnt you find your Shidis? Leave me alone, Binghe!”

“I could never leave Yuan-ge alone.”

He didn't yell back anymore, but Shen Yuan could still hear him. He could hear the confusion and distress, and he felt his heart sink.

Then, he fell hard onto the ground.

“Yuan-ge!”

For a moment he had thought that the mere thought of having hurt Luo Binghe inadvertently, even through his means of trying to save him, made him gave out. It certainly felt like that was the case, but no, it was only Without a Cure.

As abruptly as he had fallen, he was gently pulled from the ground, then a rush of cool qi entered his spiritual veins, trying to ease his body, “... This one told Yuan-ge it’s dangerous out here.”

“That was Without a Cure, Binghe.”

“Even more reason for Yuan-ge to not go about running all over,” Luo Binghe said, not quite reprimanding but certainly displeased with how he acted, “And with a half-dead Ghost-head Spider too, it could have punctured you!”

“Nononono, Binghe don’t—”

To his horror, snatched the nearly-dead Ghost-head Spider and pierced its temple. Now it’s truly a dead-dead Ghost-head Spider.

“Yuan-ge? I’m sorry! Did you want to keep it for study? I can get you live ones…”

Nononononono. No. The curse—

Did not come. Not yet.

Why?

Someone else must be here. Hiding from them.

“Binghe, someone’s here with us,” He whispered, alarmed.

Only now did he assess their surroundings, of where his frantic fleeing got them into. In hindsight, he should have noticed the giant fiery hole, almost like a gaping wound, before them.

Luo Binghe seemed to have noticed and understood what he had meant, and yet his expression is unreadable and not at all alarmed.

“Yuan-ge, don’t worry. You’re safe here with me.”

Don't worry.

Those words could not offer him comfort like it used to, not now anyway. Will it ever again, after this whole ordeal? Luo Binghe's gentle comforts will cease its focus on him because— because after this he would have to—

His heart was hammering, as if wanting to claw its way out. He was the same, if only there was a way out. It seems the only way he's ever going to take is in whatever direction he's been commanded to follow. Whichever path it may be, he'd still feel like he's in hellish purgatory in the end. 

His thoughts were getting to him again. 

Luo Binghe started to eye him with concerning once more (because that's the only thing he'd rather do as it seems, worry about Shen Yuan), and Shen Yuan tried to snap out of it and focus on the problem at hand.

“Lower your voice down, someone’s watching us..”

To his surprise, Luo Binghe only scoffed, “Them? They wouldn't dare do anything further.”

The surprising fury was not directed at him though. (Not yet anyway, he thought bitterly.)

Before he could question the situation, the answer revealed itself to him with two figures emerging. They bowed.

“Junshang, we have come to handle the situation.”

Yes, people! They are not alone anymore!

... But isn't that his Shang-Shishu? Oh gods, it is. What had his Shishu gotten himself into now?

Wait, Junshang?

“I’m not in the mood for your failures, report to me later.” Luo Binghe glowered, “Leave us.”

What, nonono. Don’t make them leave!

If this had been any other situation, Shen Yuan would have already marveled at the stark contrast of Luo Binghe’s way of speaking to him, compared to others. 

In any situation wherein he had not been cursed to kill his devoted friend.

He casted his Shang-Shishu a look, to which the man responded apologetically and made a sign that either meant he’s busy with loads of work to do or he’s about to chop a heavy weight of meat. Shang Qinghua was very bad at hand signs.

Their retreating footsteps echoed everywhere, or it could be those are the only thing Shen Yuan's aware of. Certainly not Luo Binghe's pained eyes as Shen Yuan tried with all his might to get away from that vice-like grip.

He had to get away.

Shen Yuan, with his distress and hopelessness with the situation, failed to uncover the saddening emotions laden in Luo Binghe's eyes, and Luo Binghe, on his part, could never have thought, at that moment, of what was vexing Shen Yuan so distressingly as to run away from him and his almost-bruising grip other than a conclusion that in by no means was driven out of any initial signs of the other's prejudice against demons, but primarily and encompassingly weighted merely by his own insecurities.

Both minds were clouded, both thinking of an entirely different situation that's playing out, and neither clarified. Because how could it be anything but what they were thinking of? Shen Yuan's fear and Luo Binghe's betrayal are the only things of note at the moment, and both having had read these, how else were they to feel? 

Luo Binghe then spoke, tone heavy, “Yuan-ge should not have found out about it this way.”

Shen Yuan made a confused expression, and Luo Binghe searched for any trace of anger. Fear, he found plenty, but not anger. Never anger.

But fear was worse for Luo Binghe.

“Binghe, now’s not the time, you need to let me go. I—”

Luo Binghe's face was dark in a way he had never seen before, how could he make such a face? Surely that's a mask placed above, because why else would Luo Binghe wear such a dark expression?

“I see. Yuan-ge’s already figured it out.”

Figured what out!

“I wonder what's Yuan-ge's thinking of.”

(Xiao Shen will stab Luo Binghe when it's only just the two of them. Xiao Shen will not tell anyone about this command before and after having accomplished this task. You will stab Luo Binghe. Xiao—)

“Yuan-ge haven’t told me any of it since the start of the conference. Had he known then?”

(YouwillstabLuoBingheYouwillstabLuoBingheYouwillstabLuoBingheYouwillstabLuoBingheYouwill—)

“Yuan-ge won't even talk to me..?”

Luo Binghe’s talking, he knows this, but he absorbs none of it. His whole body was screaming at him, to take action, to do something he so badly did not want to do.

The Palace Master’s commands echoed his mind relentlessly.

You will stab Luo Binghe.

A squelch woke him back to consciousness, but it was far too late for it to have returned. 

They were alone. He had not spoken to anyone at all. He stabbed Luo Binghe.

“... Yuan-ge?”

He wished he remained unconscious for a little while more, only to be spared from Luo Binghe’s betrayed face. He… He really couldn’t take this!

Shen Yuan’s whole body convulsed, he almost dropped to the ground but a pair of hands awaited him once more. He felt his own will battle the Palace Master’s commands, it all swirled and coiled upon itself in knots— the binding shackles remained unshakable and torturous, his whole body shook and his breath slowly cut into nothing.

Luo Binghe didn't know what to do. He’s pierced by Shen Yuan’s spiritual blade while trying to gather Shen Yuan himself closer. He’s having another flare up so soon? If only he could think of anything else other than the blade in his chest and the shaking hand that guided it into him. If he could have reigned himself sooner, would it not have happened?

Every other emotion soared through him. Concern, fear, confusion, sadness, reverence, concern. All for his Yuan-ge.

One particular emotion, his reverence, ran deep, not easily subdued or placated by little things like getting stabbed near the heart. He ordered his body forward, which furthered his Yuan-ge’s blade even more— closer to his heart. Shen Yuan could take it, it’s only ever been his anyway.

But his movements only increased Shen Yuan’s distress, "What are you doing!? Don't come any closer!”

“... But Yuan-ge’s sad?”

Why is Binghe comforting him? Shen Yuan isn't the one with a sword in his heart!

“Binghe, I’m sorry, please… just—”

“Yuan-ge needs me to go..?”

Shen Yuan’s silent sobs could have only meant yes to him.

“This Luo Binghe will leave. When he does, Yuan-ge should stop crying, alright?”

Shen Yuan watched in horror as he slowly reached out to the blade that’s still sheathed in him, careful not to hurt Shen Yuan in the process of getting it out. He sets it carefully down.

Then he gathered Shen Yuan in his arms. This time the other did not resist the gentleness that always came with Luo Binghe. He held him like he’s holding his entire world and more. He didn't say farewell, but that last embrace felt like one.

Shen Yuan watched as Luo Binghe threw himself down the Endless Abyss for him.

He had done it, the Palace Master's orders. He had expected the suffocating weight on his throat, his ribcage, his mind, his everything, to cease its binding pressure— but it never came.

All he could think about was that:

They were alone. He had not spoken to anyone at all. He stabbed Luo Binghe.

And he would never speak of his crime again, because he couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to await judgement and be persecuted under charges of betraying his friend, no retribution would come. No forgiveness can be earned.  

Not from anyone, how could they have known. Certainly not from the Palace Master, how could he come to regret this. And not from Luo Binghe, because he's dead.

(Or will be. The Endless Abyss was an abyss, Luo Binghe's still falling right now. The drop won't be endless, but the horrors that awaited after the fall will be.

Luo Binghe thought of his falling as endless though. He would fall for a long time.

He would spend his descent to hell with Shen Yuan's tearful eyes oppressed by fear and grief in mind, the picture burning his sword-wounded chest. Shen Yuan always manages to warm his heart.)

Most of all, Shen Yuan will never find it in himself to forgive that unwilling hand that casted the blade. For months and years to come, he'd be cursed once more with the memory of Luo Binghe.

Yuan-ge should stop crying.

He hates himself because he did. He did stop crying.