Chapter Text
The smell of the Abyss was horrible to the point it burned the nostrils, and the person in possession of a nose wouldn’t even realize how horrible it smelled until occasional wafts seeped through the burn.
However, a faint waft of the smell of bamboo drifted by.
Binghe opened his eyes, and through the dark, he could see the figure of his Shizun in the distance.
Demons that were about to prey on him were either swept aside by the wind or heading over to the source of the attack. They were attracted by an accomplished cultivator’s Qi, however miniscule it was from poison and injury.
They neared him, and with each millisecond that passed by, Binghe’s heart constricted.
He can’t let them touch Shen Qingqiu.
He can’t let Shizun be hurt!
It was a blur, and the next thing he knew, he had torn those demons apart, rending them with his bare hands. The tips of his fingers grew claws, black at night, curved in cruel points.
They were drenched in demon blood, rank and rancid.
Shen Qingqiu looked up, relieved that his disciple was alright, and slowly closed his eyes, body going limp with exhaustion. He could relax now, knowing that Binghe wouldn’t be likely to be injured by demons, not anymore. Not when he knew his disciple could tear them apart bare handed.
“Shizun!”
Binghe wiped his hands clean of filth before pulling Shizun into his lap. His breathing was shallow...the poison was coursing through his meridians, unrestrained and encouraged by the corruption of the Abyss. Helpless, Binghe attempted to guide his own unstable Qi to cleanse those spiritual gates.
He remembered when Shizun had coursed Qi through his system to encourage healing. It was warm, soft, and soothing. He attempted to do the same with whatever little skill he had, growing more determined when he saw Shizun’s breathing ease up into something deeper, something more normal.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when Shizun opened his eyes again.
“Binghe…?”
“Shizun!”
He could feel his eyes heat up. Shameful! Shizun always said he was a cry baby. He tried to wipe the tears away, but they only fell faster.
“Shizun, Shizun, please don’t hate me,” he sobbed, his Qi growing warmer in Shen Qingqiu’s body. He hoped it was the most comfortable feeling, because the Abyss was very uncomfortable. However, as long as they were together, everything would be fine, wouldn’t it?
“Silly child...how could this master ever hate you?” Shen Qingqiu sighed, closing his eyes again. It wasn’t as if he could see clearly in the Abyss anyway.
“Then, then why did you push me down…”
“This master...was afraid,” he confessed. “Your heritage is a powerful, infamous one…”
“No matter what, this disciple would never hurt Shizun...so Shizun should worry,” Binghe hurriedly reassured.
“I know. Fear had made me act hasty, but I could not forget our teacher-student bond. I have raised you so long, how could I possibly push you down…” Shen Qingqiu’s breath hitched, as if trying to hold back tears. “I’m sorry, Binghe.”
“Shizun is here now, there’s nothing to apologize for,” Binghe smiled through teary eyes. “We’ll get out of here together, okay, Shizun?”
“Of course.”
.
.
.
Shen Qingqiu would go in and out of consciousness for some inexplicable reason—
Except it wasn’t that inexplicable. He was fragile compared to demons, debilitated further by poison. Without full use of his cultivation, he might as well have been a normal mortal down in the Abyss.
If left alone, he wouldn’t have lasted long enough to stand up.
Luckily, Binghe had woken up in time.
Instead of three years, Binghe was able to find Xin Mo in one year.
Xin Mo was volatile and extremely dangerous, but by the power of will, Binghe was able to bend it to his will.
Constantly, Shen Qingqiu would offer his spiritual power to tame Xin Mo, but it would hardly be enough.
“It’s okay, Shizun. I’ll manage,” he would say, bright smile contrasting with the black Qi converging around him.
Shen Qingqiu would only look on sadly.
By the time Binghe mastered the portal and they stepped through to the world above once more, smelling fresh air and seeing blue skies, Shen Qingqiu had looked like the world used him as a punching bag. Billowing layers of robes hid how gaunt he had become, but his skin color was an unhealthy pallor.
The first thing Binghe did was find a place to nurse Shen Qingqiu back to health. The trip to Cang Qiong was long, and he wouldn’t dare to say it out loud lest his teacher berated him for his stickiness, but he wanted to spend some more time in comfort with Shizun before the rest of the sect stole his attention away.
He found countless medicines and treasures until Shen Qingqiu could stand on his feet again. The poison was still there, but he was back to being well maintained, meridians clear and flowing.
Shen Qingqiu, knowing his own condition well, had insisted he follow Binghe on an expedition to find another treasure.
“Shizun, I’ll be back really soon,” he said, the implication for bed rest clear.
“Nonsense. This master hasn’t been out of bed for weeks. It’s not like Binghe had been going after dangerous things, right?”
“No Shizun,” he lied.
“Then let us be off. This master will accompany you this time.”
Though unhappy Shizun would be straining himself, he was a little taken by joy to have Shen Qingqiu by his side. Just like before—
The two of them hiked up a mountain, taking in the scenery of the local fauna. Occasionally, Shen Qingqiu would point out his expertise on something or the other. Binghe would nod along, eager to learn and awed by his vast knowledge.
The sun was about to set when they reached the peak, where a glowing flower was their goal—
That’s not right, the flower should be blue…
“There it is, Shizun!”
Who was standing by his side here when he plucked that flower?
“It’s beautiful,” Shen Qingqiu’s voice drifted by.
“Just as much as it’s useful! It can cure your pois—”
Luo Binghe turned around, but the face that greeted him wasn’t Shen Qingqiu.
It was one of the women he saved along his journeys, her face too soft and her figure too small to be Shen Qingqiu. Her smile was pandering, and her gaze was lovesick.
“What’s wrong, Binghe?” she said in Shizun’s voice.
Immediately, the world shattered.
The woman faded away into mist and the flower drifted into nothingness.
Binghe woke up.
He was alone in his room.
He had long since silenced the voice of the Dream Demon and his admonishments on how this was a misuse of power, but he could still hear the murmur of disapproval sometimes.
He closed his eyes and plunged his consciousness deeper into oblivion.
Again.
A faint waft of the smell of bamboo drifted by...