Chapter Text
In both of the human and demon realm, Luo Binghe had always been an imposing power, a figure to be looked upon and feared. A man, risen from the ashes of his old self, that had conquered everything under the sun and beneath.
Who dared to go against, who dared to offend the most powerful man in all two realms? The legions of armies under his word were not the only reason that he was to be feared - he was of the Heavenly Demon Blood, the reason as simple as that.
Luo Binghe was a man soaring in prosperity and power, he had the means to scare his enemies to death only with a glance, and under his arms were the hundreds of most beautiful, most exquisite women.
But alas, in such a world, everything must come to an end.
The kings will fall and the long-lasting reigns will overturn, sometimes disappearing in the papers of history and sometimes living in the legends.
The last thing Luo Binghe had felt was a sense of solitary, as cold was slowly taking over his body. It was a very specific feeling, he had realised during his dying breath, that he hadn't felt in hundreds of years.
And the next thing that followed, was light blinding his eyes, and warmth.
Light, warmth, joyful sounds. The sound of birds chirping, and the faint breeze of the wind.
Now. That wasn't right, was it?
Luo Binghe had never believed in after life, not since he had conquered both of the worlds. Even so, if by any chance it were to exist - it must have been a ruthless, cold place, or so he had thought.
None of that he was feeling right now. And so, despite himself, he opened his eyes.
The view greeting him was a great tree, colored in the colors of the upcoming autumn, leaves rusting. The ground underneath himself was just the same, maybe a little bit chilly, but not unpleasant. Immediately, he sat up, a single leaf on his hair falling down as he did so.
The landscape was impossible to mistake. His breath hitched, as he looked around.
Qing Jing Peak was very alive, before him, in it's all glory.
[And then he remembered, a brief image in his mind. What had become of this place, with grey smoke clouds and unforgiving hellfire, slowly falling to ashes.]
It was not the only thing that felt off, Luo Binghe realized as he regained his reason. He did not feel the Heavenly Demon Blood running in his veins, nor could he sense his once-powerful cultivation.
Raising a single hand, he stared at it.
A small, thin and weak hand.
Like he once was.
But the nightmare was still to be over, when he heard someone calling for him. He indeed was weak, for not even being able to tell someone had came.
"Binghe,"
A pause.
Not in his previous life, not now, not in the future would Luo Binghe ever make the mistake of not recognizing this voice.
Shen Qingqiu, that scum.
That scum, he recognized the voice of. He did not turn to look at him, as he didn't need to see it with his eyes to confirm.
Yet, that tone, he couldn't recognize.
"Binghe, what are you still doing here? Ning Yingying said you haven't joined the others after finishing your laps."
With the faint sounds of leaves crunching under footsteps, Luo Binghe's hand grasped at the weeds on the ground, clutching tightly.
His eyes were that of a wild animal, confused and raging.
Until Shen Qingqiu came to stood in front of him, green and white robes fluttering in the wind, long ink-like hair spilling downwards. He was all the lofty immortal Luo Binghe had once imagined him to be, in his naive childhood, out of his reach like a fairy.
But there was no poison in his expression.
This Shen Qingqiu, standing before him, wore the same face as the man he had ripped the limbs of, gouged the eye of, yet not the same expression.
Though it was a passive expression, his facial features were moulded into something different. Something...something softer, something that was not all the sharp edges on corners.
A slight change, he could catch, appeared on Shen Qingqiu's face upon seeing the disciple's expression. Had he not know better, Luo Binghe would dare to call it worry.
"Did you hurt yourself somewhere?" Shen Qingqiu asked, behind his fan. "Come, let your shizun take a look."
Right there in that moment, Luo Binghe almost brought death upon himself for a second time by a cough fit, induced by pure shock and terror.
He really, really had no idea what kind of mad world he had fallen into.