Chapter Text
After that first subordinate of Luo Binghe’s, there’s a sudden influx in other visitors.
First is a woman that Shen Yuan is 98% sure is Liu Mingyan. She’s dressed in light purples and whites- the colors of Xian Shu, according to most of Airplane’s inconsistent descriptions- and the parts of her that Shen Yuan can see behind the veil look very pretty. She flies down out of the sky in a billow of air, the wind throwing up petals from the wildflowers as she lands next to them in the field. Luo Binghe and his son, both of whom must have sensed her approach- given their complete lack of surprise- cock their heads in almost identical motions. Shang Qinghua scrambles up from where he’s fallen on his ass, hand clutched over his heart.
“Can they not try to give me a heart attack every time?” he wheezes, as Liu Mingyan’s eyes dart between Luo Binghe and his son, going wide. Her gaze turns to encompass Shen Yuan as well, and her expression grows increasingly complicated- as if she’s considering and discarding many possibilities. Finally, her gaze returns to Luo Binghe, scanning up and down his tall, handsome frame. Ah, she must have missed the sight of her husband!
“I see,” she says, tone deep with meaning; and before anyone can say anything, she’s leapt back onto her sword and flown away.
Shen Yuan looks after her, only his borrowed body’s aloof nature preventing his jaw from dropping and his hand from reaching out forlornly. What was that? What did she even come here for?!
—
Next, it’s some twink in white.
This time, Shen Yuan has warning of his arrival; both Luo Binghe and his son’s eyes flick to the west, going hard, a few moments before a fast-moving figure becomes visible in the sky.
“Shen Qingqiu!” the figure yells, rocketing out of the clouds roughly enough that the grass is torn up by the wind of his passage. Shen Yuan blanches and begins fanning himself very quickly- Shen Qingwho? He doesn’t know her! He! Doesn’t! Know! Her!
The man does a kickflip off his sword and lands on his feet between Shen Yuan and the two demons, who are sitting next to each other repairing a small tear in Luo Binghe’s sleeve. He flings out an arm, white sleeve billowing intimidatingly; he has a pretty-boy face that belongs in a boyband. Who is this?
“You demons-” the man says tightly, spiritual energy crackling around him. Luo Binghe’s son looks at him for a moment, then returns to mending his father’s sleeve with a snort. Luo Binghe’s eyes linger on him for a moment, a small smile crossing his lips as he leans his chin on a hand. The man’s brow twists in distaste, and he turns to Shen Yuan. His gaze completely ignores Shang Qinghua.
“What is he doing here?” the man hisses to Shen Yuan, gesturing at Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe’s gaze is trailing up and down the man’s figure, smile deepening. He’s obviously listening. “Do you need me to drive him away?”
Shang Qinghua runs over to grab at Shen Yuan’s sleeve, despite the withering glare that the man in white pins him with. He yanks urgently, jerking his eyebrows towards Luo Binghe. Shen Yuan doesn’t need to be reminded, okay! He knows they have to suck up like their lives depend on it- because they do! They know which the real Luo Binghe is now, so clinging to his thighs begins: now!
“Not at all,” Shen Yuan says as coolly as possible, flicking his sleeve with a small shock of spiritual energy that makes Shang Qinghua release it with a yelp. “We are getting along quite well- there’s nothing like the beautiful connection of two men who understand each other deeply.” He glances at Luo Binghe’s son, running some quick calculations in his head- Luo Binghe seems close to him. Can’t hurt to hedge his bets. “Or three men.”
The man’s face ricochets through a series of unfortunate colors, and he shoots an incredulous glare over at- at Luo Binghe’s son, for some reason. When he’s soundly ignored in favor of precise, tiny stitches, he draws himself up in a huff, face creased in a tight scowl. He sword darts out of the air like a minnow in a pond, arriving under his feet before Shen Yuan can get another word in- and just like that, he’s flying away in the same style as Liu Mingyan, shouting something unintelligible over his shoulder.
Why does everyone keep taking off running?!
—
“My lord-” a voice calls, and Shen Yuan sees a woman barely clad in gauzy red veils step out of an inky portal. Okay, he knows who it is, this time! This has to be Sha Hualing, who is now looking at her husband adoringly- wait, no, like he’s some sort of poisonous, dangerous creature to be treated with caution. She glances at Luo Binghe’s son- who’s tending the campfire, right now- and hurries over to him instead, rushing to speak in low whispers while another figure steps out of the portal.
Shang Qinghua is staring rapt at Sha Hualing’s increasingly heated conversation with Luo Binghe’s son, so his back is turned when the next person comes through. This one is tall- Luo Binghe’s height, almost- with a steely blue demon mark on his brow, a massive furred cloak completely failing to protect his exposed tits from the elements. The air temperature feels like it drops a few degrees immediately after he arrives, and it drops further as his gaze lands on the oblivious Shang Qinghua.
The demon’s huge hand lands on Shang Qinghua’s shoulder.
“HolY SHIT-” the man yelps, attempting to leap away. The demon’s grip on his collar keeps him in place like a scruffed puppy, causing him to half-choke on his own shirt.
“Where have you been?” the demon says, voice deep and tone ice cold. This has got to be… Mobei-jun! Oh shit, Shang Qinghua is totally dead. Shen Yuan will have to write him a nice epitaph that mostly doesn’t refer to his lack of literary skills.
“M… my king?!” Shang Qinghua squawks, eyes darting furiously to Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe both, as if deciding who he should suck up to first. “I… this, uh, your subordinate has-”
Mobei-jun shakes him roughly by the collar, provoking another squeak.
“M- my lord!” Shang Qinghua shrieks, eyes desperately landing on Luo Binghe and arms flailing until he breaks Mobei-jun’s grip, running to Luo Binghe’s side to hide behind him. “Protect me!”
Mobei-jun watches his flight with shocked eyes, and sends a look of confusion over in Sha Hualing’s direction. She looks at Luo Binghe’s son, brow furrowed and mouth gaping open. He’s watching with an air of quiet confusion, a level of calm surrounding him that Shen Yuan hopes his face also reflects. Inwardly, he’s sweating; they’re about to have a huge showdown, if a memoryless Luo Binghe takes Shang Qinghua’s bait and begins to fight his own righthand man! Luo Binghe vs Mobei-jun is a strong matchup, but Sha Hualing is no joke herself- can Luo Binghe’s son fight? Can Shen Yuan? He hasn’t tried it yet, what if he trips and falls on his own sword? He’ll bet all of this body’s cultivation that that useless Shang Qinghua can’t fight for the life of him.
“It’s got to be a memory charm,” Sha Hualing says decisively. Shen Yuan goes white- no one needs to remember anything about any tragic backstories with their shizuns, okay?! Young miss, there’s no need to make any hasty decisions-
Before he can say anything Mobei-jun, in a sweeping gesture, has sent demonic energy rattling through the trees, an enormous pressure weighing down on them.
A previously unnoticeable spiritual weight snaps and falls away from Shen Yuan’s shoulders.
Suddenly, a few pertinent details return to him.
Luo Binghe rises to his feet from where he was sitting with Sha Hualing, gaze velcroing itself to Shen Qingqiu. Before Shen Qingqiu can move, he’s enveloped in his husband’s arms, a voice already choked wet with tears loud in his ears, repeating his name over and over.
Shang Qinghua, holding onto the sleeve of local retired demon emperor Tianlang-jun, shrieks and tears away his hand.
“MY KING!!!” he shouts, running back across the field to Mobei-jun like his ass is on fire. Mobei-jun’s ferocious glare at Tianlang-jun doesn’t falter even a moment as Shang Qinghua slams into him full force, burying his head in his bare chest like an ostrich in the sand.
“Well,” Sha Hualing says with great irritation, “I suppose this explains some things.”
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe says worshipfully, finally releasing Shen Qingqiu enough that he can see his face. Both of Luo Binghe’s large hands cup his cheeks, brushing at the slightly damp patches under his eyes. “That was torture.”
“You didn’t even know to miss me!” Shen Qingqiu says with a huff, both hands coming up to cover Luo Binghe’s. Shang Qinghua’s babbling flows on in the background as Shen Qingqiu takes a few moments to admire his husband’s eyes; how could he have forgotten them? How could he have assumed that anyone else’s would be as magnetic, as charming, as handsome? ‘Luo Binghe’s son,’ indeed! Airplane was so foolish!
Shang Qinghua’s litany behind them is beginning to slow; Sha Hualing runs up to join them, as Mobei-jun waves a portal open with one hand, Shang Qinghua still sticking to him like a burr.
“My lord,” Mobei-jun says simply, gesturing to the portal barely a step away. Luo Binghe leans down and presses a gentle kiss against Shen Qingqiu’s lips, and takes his hand as they turn to go.
Shan Hualing jumps through with a jingling of the bells on her ankles; Mobei-jun and Shang Qinghua follow. Luo Binghe guides Shen Qingqiu to the portal, but pauses with his foot outstretched before stepping in. Slowly, he turns towards the remaining person.
Standing alone in the field, the dappled light of the scattered saplings falling on his robes, is Tianlang-jun. His figure is tall and straight, as eyecatching as a magnificent tree alone among the grasses of the plain. His hair floats softly in the breeze; he makes no move to approach them or speak.
After a moment with Luo Binghe’s gaze on him, he raises a hand in a wave; the small tear in his sleeve, neatly mended, catches the light.
Luo Binghe’s lips twitch in something slightly less than a smile.
After a long moment, he raises a hand as well.
As if he’s reached his limit, he then immediately grips Shen Qingqiu’s hand, intertwining their fingers and holding on tightly.
His eyes fall to Shen Qingqiu, and his face relaxes.
Shen Qingqiu smiles at him; and, hand in hand, they step together through the portal.