Chapter Text
Binghe felt cold.
Just a moment before, the danger of the demon invasion infused him with the heat of adrenaline.
However, the cold crept up on him ever since he saw the look on his Shizun’s face.
Those cold, cold eyes—except, there was hesitance; there was pain and affection mixed into one confusing mess.
Shizun had slowly reached over with a shaking hand, those eyes flickering between love and disgust, and Binghe went in, trusting that his Shizun would never hurt him.
Shizun had said so.
If Binghe wasn’t strong enough, Shizun would protect him.
Shizun had said so.
Shizun lied.
He had barely felt the touch before he was shoved away. His feet tried to find purchase on the ground, but there was none.
He fell.
Shizun did nothing but push him. There was no wound on him. Xiu Ya, despite being drawn, did not find its blade in his body, and he was not flung with Shizun’s fan, but Shizun’s own hand.
Yet, that may have been worse. He felt his soul hurting. He felt him bleeding, not blood, but a crucial part of himself. It was fading, and he didn’t know if he would get it back…
When he hit the Abyss floor, he blacked out.
He gained consciousness, a faint sort of awareness, but he wasn’t in any hurry to wake up. What was the point? If demons gnawed at his bones, chewed his flesh and drank his blood, what did he care anymore?
A faint waft of the smell of bamboo drifted by.
Shizun certainly wouldn’t care.
But why...why did this happen?
He opened his eyes.
He needed to ask Shizun, why. Were all those lessons lies?
He sat up.
Shizun was a long way away…
If he wanted to ask his question, he’ll have to start walking now.
If demon blood was so abhorrent, was there anything Binghe could do to get rid of it?
He couldn’t accept this.
He couldn’t accept any life not by Shizun’s side.
He took one step forward.
A few hundred feet away, a bloodstained, ripped silk fan was dyed so red and made so ragged, it was no different from the rest of the yawning abyss.
.
.
.
The system was complete and utter bullshit.
Shen Qingqiu wanted to live.
Shen Qingqiu wanted to keep Luo Binghe safe.
In order to live, he had to hurt Luo Binghe.
This was absolute and complete utter bullshit.
He didn’t want to live in fear of Binghe coming back and swearing revenge on him. That’s no way to live.
He also didn't want to live knowing he ruined Luo Binghe. He didn't know how the original goods could do it. How can you live with yourself, knowing that you ruined another person's future, their happiness? He was not the most coherent person, but he knew the guilt would swallow him whole. He'd ruin himself too.
Up until the end, he was thinking of a million plans to overcome this.
Was there any plant or lore or mechanism in this novel—but no. There wasn’t, because Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky wrote the Endless Abyss as a sort of turning point, a crucial plot event to Binghe’s character.
Binghe would not be Binghe without the Endless Abyss.
And yet, that Binghe isn’t his Binghe.
His Binghe is the little white sheep, nearly grown but still a child, following at his heels. Quiet days in the bamboo house, daily lessons with the peak...what a lovely life. Why couldn’t they continue that? This isn't a novel anymore, this is his actual life. He'd rather boring days, bright and routine like every other day than...
Than this!
There was no need for plot!
But there is.
So he’s a Heavenly Demon.
So what?
He didn’t hurt anyone.
He didn’t deserve to be hurt.
[Ding! Avoiding the Abyss scene will deduct 10,000 B-points. Host, please reconsider.]
Shen Qingqiu reached out a hand towards that shaking child. The moment he did, bright red eyes brightened with hope so painful, it pierced into his heart.
However, before he could bring that hope close to his heart, before he could embrace and reassure and make everything alright—
[Ding. 10,000 B-points deducted. Host account termination standby. Host account suspended...host account on autopilot.]
Shen Qingqiu felt horror as his hand, the same one that offered hope, crush it. He—no, the System—flung Binghe away so hard, he tripped into the Abyss.
“No!” his heart screamed. His actual body only pursed its lips, sealing in a dying cry.
He rushed over, or tried to. Instead, his feet carried him there calmly.
[Ding! Host termination 3, 2, 1…]
And they jumped.
.
.
.
Shang Qinghua saw Shen Qingqiu jump after Luo Binghe.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he was a spy where his natural job was watching out for things, even in the midst of chaos, he would’ve missed it, just like how the rest of Cang Qiong missed their shixiong dive into hell.
For the past few months, Cucumber Bro was just agonizing about how he didn’t want Luo Binghe to go down to the Abyss, but the System is an utter tyrant.
Shang Qinghua would know. Humiliation, or death! Ethically immoral choices, or death! The threats were getting kind of old, but they were still effective on Shang Qinghua, much less Shen Qingqiu who had only three years with it, compared to Shang Qinghua’s lifetime.
However, systems had loopholes, and Shen Qingqiu clearly found his!
If Luo Binghe had to go down to the Abyss, what’s stopping Shen Qingqiu from following, right? It was five years of hell, but after that, Shen Qingqiu would no doubt live like a king, having cemented Luo Binghe’s loyalty as a steadfast Shizun who would stand by the protagonist’s side, no matter what.
Shang Qinghua was slightly jealous.
But remembering what he wrote about the Abyss, he naturally banished those feelings.
Shen Qingqiu was leagues stronger than he was, even with Without A Cure. How could he possibly compare?
In the meantime, he had a job to do if he wanted to continue living.