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Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu had been dreading that day since he arrived in this world. The day which triggered the blackening of the white lily lotus. He had been giving his all into taking care of Luo Binghe and keeping him as pure as possible, at least for now. At first it started mostly out of self-preservation. But over the weeks as he had grown into this reluctant role, it had developed into true affection. His disciples were no longer nameless cannon-fodder and Binghe was no longer a mere protagonist; they were people – living, breathing with hopes and dreams. This just made it so much worse.

As if the fear of being turned into a human stick and the guilt of causing any human so much torment wasn’t enough, now it was also personal.

He had begged the system time and time again to offer him an alternative path, but there was no dice. He couldn’t realistically hope to scrape up enough points within three years to tank the massive point penalty.
How is he supposed to change the plot if he can’t change anything significant?! Don’t ask for the impossible, System! And while you’re at it, please stop being abusive to children.

[Rules can not be changed. Quests must be fulfilled while remaining within the set of rules. Please continue your efforts.]

That loathsome set of rules also included not disclosing his true identity. Not that he had earnestly considered it. Who the fuck would believe such an absurd story? If he went around telling his tale, he’d end up in the nut ward, if ancient China had an equivalent.

No, he had to come up with a solution that fit into the narrative of this world. He was basically a DnD player being forced to improv his way through a pre-set campaign. That was exactly what the system wanted, a cohesive storyline with plausible explanations from characters instead of the hand-waving, plot holes and papapa-solutions Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky was so prone of. He hated the idea of doing the system’s bidding, but at least the system couldn’t punish him if he played by its own rules. Even with the OOC restrictions officially gone, he was still paranoid about occurring penalties. He was punished for smiling ffs, the system had no mercy and would punish him whenever it could.  

So the key action of pushing Binghe into the Endless Abyss was basically set. He couldn’t change that. But! He could try to frame the situation in a different context. A good director in a movie greatly improved the quality while shit framing would make any movie a flop. The system forced him to comply to certain points in the story, but Shen Qingqiu was determined to frame himself as not-scum!

Anyway, mentoring and doting on Binghe had been a good step into the right direction, it would gradually make him a little less hateworthy. But no matter how good a teacher he became, pushing someone into this world’s equivalent of hell made you a dick. Unless…he had an excuse – and he needed a damn good excuse to measure up to the severity of the action.

Unless...what if…Binghe jumped down into the Endless Abyss himself!? He couldn’t hate Shen Qingqiu for something he himself decided to do after all! The problem was just…he’d need to be absolutely crazy to willingly enter literal hell. Or Shen Qingqiu needed some insanely convincing framing.   

After wrecking his head for any plausible and forgivable explanation, he came up with his own plot. His yard stick to evaluating the quality of the explanation was how he himself would judge the plot as a reader. It was cowardly and a little overdramatic, but like everything to do with framing, a lot hinged on the execution. At the very least he believed it to be a more coherent reason than most stuff in the original Proud Immortal Demon Way (although that wasn’t a very high bar to be fair), which should shut up the System.

And if everything went according to Keikaku, Binghe would not only not hate Shen Qingqiu but he might even be a little grateful! Although Shen Qingqiu dared not hope for so much. As long as he didn’t get tortured or killed, he’d consider it as a win.

The plan: Shen Qingqiu needed to give Binghe reason to enter the Abyss for himself.

He could claim that the Abyss would be very beneficial for his cultivation, which was true. But there were too many, much less horrible options to achieve good cultivation results.

No, the Abyss is literal hell. The only way to make it appealing is if there was something more dangerous than hell waiting for him in the human realm. And the most convincing lies are those which are half-truths.

The location and even of the Endless Abyss plot actually gave him handy circumstances to work with.
Binghe would awaken his demon blood at the Immortal Alliance Conference, where he would be stuck at because of the event’s barrier. The conference gathered disciples and masters from every major and semi-major sect.
If they found out about his blood during the invasion, Binghe would surely be blamed for it. Racial tensions between demons and humans are a fixture in this world and the hatred would be fanned by the numerous casualties of young disciples during the event.

If Shen Qingqiu made the cultivators seem like a bigger threat than the monsters in the Abyss, he might be able to convince Binghe that the Abyss was safer than the human realm for him.

First, he’d start by sneakily preparing Binghe for the Abyss, so that he’d be well equipped to fight monsters.
Cultivators spared with other humans for training, but they rarely fought seriously against each other. It’d be normal for Binghe to have much less experience fighting humans than monsters. And humans are more cunning than beasts, so Shen Qingqiu could advise Binghe to hide from the beasts in the Abyss while hinting on how humans would definitely track him down if they had reason to.
In that constellation choosing an uncertain survival chance in hell would be better than a death sentence in the human realm, wouldn’t it…?

To gain Binghe’s trust, Shen Qingqiu will beforehand admit to Binghe how he supports him despite his demon heritage. That way, Binghe will think Shen Qingqiu is on his side and not just trying to con him into committing suicide by suggesting to jump into the Endless Abyss a.k.a. hell – a notoriously murderous place.  

It seemed to be the most natural and viable plan to him, because it was mostly true – there really were a lot of racial tensions in this world and Shen Qingqiu honestly didn’t mind Binghe being a demon. As for the effectiveness: lies are best hidden in truths. And lying less makes him feel like less of a dick too, so win-win situation!

He was a little worried this behavior might be too OOC for his character, since Shen Qingqiu was supposed to a be fake righteous cultivator who hated demons. Albeit he could believe the latter part to be the one honest thing the OG spouted. Not because he knew of the OG’s stance on demons per se, but the man was such a negative Nancy and brimming with hatred in general. At the same time, he valued his public image and it was generally impolite to show open distaste. One of the few exceptions were demons. On that topic it was ok even for lofty immortal cultivators to show hostility. A minimum amount of distaste was even expected. So, if there was a socially accepted topic to hate on, why would the king of haters not revel and be honest for once in his life?

The rest of his façade was immaculate at the beginning of the story. The true personality and crafted imagine were canonically poles apart. And that imagine had been entirely shattered by the half time mark of the novel, so what did it matter when Shen Yuan started straying from this doomed, fake reputation?

At least it was technically possible for people in this universe to not be racist. Spouting the absurd truth of trans dimensional travel could get him institutionalized whereas his claim of tolerance needed no proof and only put his moral compass and not his sanity into question. 

He felt scummy at the thought of making Binghe believe that he’d be hated by the other cultivators. But in his defense! Demons really were hated pretty universally by humans, so that wouldn’t really be a lie. (It’s still kinda a dick move to point it out tho. Like reminding the unpopular kid that they had no friends or making fun of a kid for his old, ratty clothes when everyone knew they came from a financially struggling family.)

He’s only a side-character, alright?! Once this arc was done, he’d vanish into obscurity and the plot would just introduce new side-characters to replace him.
His reasoning and plotting didn’t have to be impressive, foolproof or 100% logical, just enough to convince the demographic target – in this case: one 17-year-old kid.

He had three years to make his preparations. And with that he mostly meant writing his own long-ass pseudo-scripts he could recite to seem somewhat convincing and consistent.

Little white lotus Binghe was gullible as fuck; hopefully gullible enough for this madness. If he wasn’t - good for Binghe as it was a step into becoming a functional, responsible adult. Really bad for Shen Qingqiu though.
If it failed and Binghe wasn’t convinced, Shen Qingqiu could at least claim to have had good intentions. (What’s the saying? The road to hell is paved with good intentions.)
Unless he really fucked up the execution, he didn’t think Binghe would have sufficient reason to hate him enough for torture at least.

Chapter Text

His new would-be instructor, Meng Mo, revealed to Luo Binghe that he had to be at least part demon – a hybrid. There was demonic qi simmering deep inside his soul, under layers and layers of his normal spiritual qi, which was quintessential for humans. Once the dream demon had drawn his attention to it, he could no longer turn a blind eye toward its existence.

In hindsight, this explained some things Binghe had long tried to block out from his consciousness. He had wondered before who his parents were and why they had abandoned him in such a cruel way. If they didn’t wish for a child, they could have at least abandoned him at the doorstep of a charity organization, a religious sect, an orphanage or any other random family. Even if the last option didn’t wish for another child, they’d usually at least try to find him another home.

Instead, he was put in a wooden basket on an almost frozen river, which ended up as his namesake. As luck would have it, starving fishermen had been desperate enough to try fishing amidst icy chunks and found him by pure chance, saving him from freezing to death. Anyone who send him on his way should have known that the baby would quickly freeze to death under normal circumstances…

The method alone had already implied a deliberate, sinister intent. But his heritage would give an explanation as to why.

Human-demon hybrids were always bastards – in the literal sense. He had never heard of a human and demon being married. Such a union was vilified and no priest would ever sanction it. Not like they were ever given the opportunity to refuse. Demons didn’t ask humans for consent, much less their hand in marriage.

He didn’t know which was worse. The fact that he was part demon or that he was ostensibly the product of rape. Both made him absolutely miserable, but it also made him sympathize for his birth mother.
He had never held an outright grudge against her, he knew too little about her circumstances to hate her. It had mostly been disappointment and confusion as to why she chose such a risky abandonment method. Now he couldn’t fault her for not wanting to raise the product of her rape, much less one which would ostracize her from human society.

There had been long, bloody conflicts between the two races. Right now, there was no peace but merely half-hearted armistice. There were still demons raiding and murdering human settlements, just as there were cultivators dedicating their whole lives to exorcising demons. Being part of both races meant he belonged to neither. Demons would think him weak and inferior; humans would think him vile and evil.

It made Binghe question whether all the abuse he had suffered so far was justified. He reminisced about his childhood, which was just a long chain of misery.
The misery was briefly alleviated by a poor washerwoman who had cared for him as if he was her own child. In turn he loved her like his mother – she was, for all intents and purposes to him. Although he was unspeakably grateful to her, he had remained hungry most of the time as she often lacked the means to feed both herself and another mouth. And soon, she herself died from a combination of hunger and untreated illness.

Afterwards he returned to being a dirty street urchin.
Other children, even fellow street orphans, were always drawn to bully him. With some he hadn’t even exchanged a single word yet before they threw stones at him, tried to mug his sparse belongings or let out their frustrations on him in some other violent way. Adults would mostly ignore his begging but sometimes they got angry at him, claiming his filthy presence to be an eye sore in front of their shops.

Maybe other people could subconsciously pick up on his demon blood? Why else would he be singled out so much even as an innocent, harmless child?

What kind of other implications would his demon blood have? Years after his adoptive mother had died, he had finally found another kind person in Shizun. Against all likelihood, everything had been going so well lately. Would everything go back to misery and cruelty once his blood was revealed? ...Would it get worse than before since the world would have even more reason now to scourge him?

Cold sweat engulfed him in a sticky, clammy embrace after waking up from his first encounter with Meng Mo. He had to process a lot of new information. But he couldn’t stay alone. The pregnant silence prompted his mind into imagining the worst possible scenarios; it was too oppressing to bear. 

He ran to Shizun.

Chapter Text

They just returned from the nightmare quest, where Shen Qingqiu wasn’t even supposed to be featured!

Shen Qingqiu felt like shit when he woke up from a terrible dream foretelling his canon future and demise. But he wasn’t even afforded the time and opportunity to properly panic. Luo Binghe, his prospective killer, entered his chambers to make sure that Shen Qingqiu was alright. Shen Qingqiu knew the kid meant well. But his presence really wasn’t helping at all – it was the biggest possible reminder of his gruesome death! Alas, as immortal master and teacher he still had to hold up his face. He could only reassure the boy that he was alright and try to get him out of his door without appearing too rude or letting his own terror shine through.

Binghe had been on his way out but tentatively turned around a few steps in front of the door.

“Shizun…the demons…are they all unpardonably evil and should all of them be killed?”

Shen Qingqiu saw a golden opportunity when it presented itself! ...Albeit he hadn’t actually planned on using his script so soon since his involvement in the quest had come out of left field. And since he hadn’t expected it yet, his script was more outline than actual script.

He thought he still had three fucking years to plan and write, alright?! Who the hell does his homework the day its issued?? (Ok, it’s been like two months since he came up with the idea. But two months out of three years is like five percent of the allotted time. That’s the most unreasonable preponement he has ever heard of!)

However, if he doesn’t start now, he’ll look inconsistent in the future. Changing your morals within a few years for no apparent reason is suspicious as fuck. Who would ever believe him?

Shen Qingqiu didn’t think retconning would be viable either, although the original PIDW loved to do it. Because here characters will actually have their own memories of events instead of an omniscient narrator (unorganized author) imposing reality on them, where they bend either the past or memories to fit the present.

Fuck. He’s left with no choice. But at least he won’t go in totally blind – he has already worked up a loose outline and some rough ideas for arguments at least. The rest he’ll have to fill in on the fly!

While Shen Qingqiu brooded over his success chances of improv-acting with only his outline as guide and the possible negative consequences of forgoing the opportunity, it looked like he was thinking long and hard about something – because he was!
Luo Binghe waited with baited breath because obviously, his Shizun was going to impart meticulously and well thought out wisdom on him any time now.

After deducing his only viable option, Shen Qingqiu snapped back to the present at a very expectant face staring at him.

He gathered his cool, collected immortal master charisma and driveled, “All demons? Binghe should be mindful of any concept that claims to be encompassing. There is little in this world which can be measured in absolutes.

Binghe, do you believe there are evil newborn babes?”

Luo Binghe was baffled by the question, it seemed almost nonsensical to him and entirely related to the topic of demons he had just asked about. Not wanting to be rude, he still replied with a dumbfounded expression he could hardly hide, “…No, this one does not believe a baby to be capable of evil…?” His voice trailed off slightly, not so much in doubt of the truthfulness of his answer but in confusion.

“Yet some humans grow up and are unquestionably evil. Any murderer, rapist, thief or traitor was a baby once.
You see, there are good and bad humans – but they are not born as such. The same applies to demons and therefore, they’re neither inherently bad nor good.

This is the gift and burden which reason has bestowed upon us – for it foists agency on us by enabling choices. We are not mere beasts who are slaves to their instincts. All choices bear consequences and by acting upon them we implicitly give our consent to those consequences.

If one chooses to kill for leisure, they are a murderer – regardless of race. What does it matter if it’s a claw or a knife that slits your throat? The result is the same. The action makes the perpetrator heinous not their appearance.”

Shen Qingqiu wondered whether this really could count as consolation or if it just worsened the situation and made him sound cynical. However, he couldn’t think of a positive behavior example, which demons were known for, off the top of his head. So, all that was left for him was an example where he could vilify humans to the same degree as demons instead.
Anyway, the point of the spiel was to showcase how demons and humans were equal. So let them be equally bad.

Give him a break, he was winging it here!

He ended his half-vamped speech with the one sentence from his outline which he had already toiled over and perfected. He was proud of that one at least.

“We might not always be able to choose how we look or what we are, but we can choose how we act, making us who we are.”

The underlying concept of equality was such a frequently recycled adage in modern world novels, Shen Qingqiu could never be shameless enough to claim to have come up with it. But here, in this world mired in conflict between the two races, it was more than merely unorthodox. It was unheard of and held the potential to earn the scorn and damnation of the majority who held on to the well-trodden paths. 

Which was exactly why Binghe needed to hear it. Shen Qingqiu hoped explaining this to this Binghe would establish a good foundation for healthier self-worth and self-acceptance.

Bingge in the original novel had referred to himself as ‘mongrel’ several times. Usually when he was talking to (slaughtering/torturing) a nobleman from either race who refused to bend their knee to someone of a ‘diluted’ or ‘tainted’ bloodline.
Most fans thought it was just a spite thing with a little humorous self-deprecation, to showcase Bingge’s self-confidence. Saying things like ‘He’s being self-ironic! He is proud of his origins but can also laugh at himself. Anyway, he beat those purists to death, so he’s the winner!’

But Shen Yuan always had the opposite impression. To him it read like Bingge was extremely self-conscious about his mixed heritage to the point he might have had an inferiority complex. Shen Yuan suspected Bingge described himself as ‘mongrel’ so the word couldn’t be weaponized by his opponents or would at least lose its sting. Shen Yuan thought Bingge was acting a little crueler than usual when he tortured those men and demons after all.

Little white lotus Binghe’s eyes light up with understanding. Hope blossomed in this young boy who had been discarded and abused by the cruelty of this world.
He had already been shunned when everyone thought he was a mere human street urchin. If anyone found out that he carried demon blood like Meng Mo suspected, he wouldn’t just be shunned anymore but become a target for eradication.

To most it was irrelevant whatever he chose to do; their opinion was set. They thought him a monstrosity the moment he was conceived between a human and a demon – he was condemned for the shame of mere existence.

But his master opposed this world’s moral standard, which in turn would have denied Binghe. The knowledge made his heart flutter with hope. So, it’d make a difference if he tried really hard?

Maybe his fate hadn’t already been sealed at his depraved birth.
Does this mean his future wasn’t perforce doomed to end like his past?

Binghe’s eyes were twinkling like he was holding back unshed tears of relief and joy when he asked his master with a tremulous voice, “So even a demon can be considered good as long as he acts righteous?”

Shen Qingqiu offered, “As long as the actions are righteous and proper, how can the actor be considered anything else?”

Shen Qingqiu felt a twinge of sympathy at how elated this poor abused child seemed. The transmigrator actually believed what he said. But since that was almost the norm in his world, he didn’t feel like he deserved any credit for being brave or contrary. He just hoped it would help Binghe accept himself as well.

[Protagonist satisfaction points +400]

The unbidden interruption in his head tore him out of his role as Shen Qingqiu. Shen Yuan remembered that the System was still watching and evaluating him on a meta-level.
Alas, it also reminded him of the rest of his plan. The warm compassion he felt earlier turned to dread threatening to chill his heart.

‘Fuck, I forgot half of the shit I was supposed to say!’

That’s what happens when you go with an outline and not an actual script!!

He forgot to mention half of his arguments – The bad, hurtful arguments, which he had planned to package in flowery words to soften the blow. Alas, whichever way you look at it, the blow was absolutely necessary!
As much as Shen Qingqiu wanted Luo Binghe to accept himself, the half demon shouldn’t get too comfortable with his demon persona – at least not yet. Luo Binghe needed to fear the cultivators at the Immortal Alliance Conference more than the monsters in the Abyss. If he believed humans could be understanding and compassionate to demons, Luo Binghe would try to reason and argue with the sect masters instead of woefully plunging himself into literal hell at the behest of Shen Qingqiu.

Goddamn it. But when it came down to it…when he had to choose between Binghe’s self-worth and his own life…

…….…….No, it’s going to be fine.
Shen Yuan was just being overdramatic. Binghe and his self-worth will be fine. The boy was the protagonist. Nothing the malicious OG scum villain threw his way ever broke the boy, so Shen Yuan could never, even if he tried his darndest.
And it’s not like he’s telling Binghe lies. He’s just pointing out some uncomfortable truths. Shen Yuan wasn’t to blame for the racism of the majority.

His heart still sighed in lament…He could have at least phrased this all much, much better.

He was now forced to backpedal and pull the carpet from under this boy only after giving him hope for barely two minutes. He really didn’t want to do this. But it was crucial for his plan.

Shen Qingqiu coughed twice to get the attention of the currently smiling Binghe. The master appended, “Alas, this is a concept in theory. Experience grounded in reality has proven how most demons have other tendencies. The recent attack from the demon saintess was just another first-hand demonstration of this rather common pattern among demon kind.”

The hopeful stars in the eyes of this child burnt out and crashed at Shen Qingqiu’s feet. The teacher’s soul ached at the pain he just caused his disciple. He could only taste his own bitterness and cursed, ‘Fuck, telling him this now after the earlier spiel of equality must feel like a kick in the nuts.’

Binghe shrunk into himself, the earlier smile a forgotten memory. How foolish of him to believe he could have been accepted. His master was right. Sha Hualing and her minions were just here to wreak havoc, severely injured many of his fellow disciples and even poisoned Shizun. And they had no particular reason for it. They seemingly attempted a mass murder just for sport and if that wasn’t pure evil, what was? He himself has never witnessed or even heard of a good demon, so how could he expect others to see him as one?

The wetness in Binge’s eyes threatened to spill over again, but it was no longer out of relief but in frustration and heartbreak.

Shen Qingqiu lamented in his heart, ‘Now to kick a kid who already lies on the ground…’

But on the outside, he maintained a carefully neutral expression when he continued, “Binghe, as cultivators it is our duty to protect the people who can not do it themselves.
Mercy and tolerance are virtues we should all strive for.
However, there is a fine line between a tolerant open mind and blind trust. A person is best judged by their actions. But a reasonable assessment about their intentions is often enough to warrant counter-actions before the actual act has been committed. 

If one wakes to the smell of smoke, only a fool would ignore it and rise only when flames start licking at his feet. By the time the fire’s heat can be perceived, it’ll already have consumed a great deal to reach its palpable size. A wise man would just extinguish the tinder long before it can grow into a flame capable of devouring his house.

An ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure after all.”

If Shen Qingqiu was honest, he felt the urge to pat himself on the shoulder for managing to think of a fitting proverb with the word ‘cure’ in it from the top of his head. He knew it would most likely evoke and deepen Binghe’s bad conscience about Shen Qingqiu’s affliction with the poison Without-a-Cure. In other words: he was guilt-tripping a child!

…A new low for Shen Yuan, even when he compared it to his days as forum troll.

The color drained from Binghe’s face and his breathing became ragged. He berated himself inside his mind, ‘Of course, Shizun is right – he always is. Prevention is so much better than aftertreatment!! Who would know this simple fact better than the two of us, who just witnessed one of countless situations where a cure doesn’t even exist?!’

Shame and guilt coalesced in the pit of his stomach as the scene of Elder Sky Hammer throwing himself at his careless self replayed again and again in his mind. 
If he had been prepared to evade on his own, if he hadn’t been so weak that Shizun felt the urge to take the blow for him …if he had only finished what he had already started and killed Elder Sky Hammer before he found the impertinence for a dishonorable sneak attack…

His mercy had been more than misplaced. Elder Sky Hammer would have died either way, if not by Luo Binghe, then by Sha Hualing as punishment for losing. It should be expected for a despicable demon without honor to try and drag someone down into hell with him, if only given the chance. The chance Luo Binghe had presented to him on a silver platter – because Binghe had been too stupid to think ahead and had forgone the barest of sensible precautions.

He was dimly aware that he couldn’t show too much distress now. It would be too suspicious. But there were just too many questions racing through his head. As they bounced about and echoed inside his skull, his lips trembled and fists clenched nervously despite his best efforts to appear unaffected.

Would he be killed as a preventive measure? As soon as his secret is revealed and regardless of what he did? Was his existence a threat so big, it justified his premature death? (…would anyone think his death needed a justification…?)

[Protagonist satisfaction points – 500]

‘Fuck you, System. What kind of quality did you expect when you only grant five percent of the allotted time? At least give me a fucking heads-up for some last-minute preparations!

…Just – shut up! I know what I did was shitty, I don’t need your even shittier reminders to rub it into my face! Turn them off!’

[Intermittent point in- and decrease notifications deactivated. (Quest notifications will remain unaffected as they can’t be deactivated.)]

Shen Qingqiu rampaged at the now silent System, but he restrained himself for he had much more important matters on his hands now.

He wanted to comfort the trembling boy in front of him, but all he could do without sabotaging his own plan was to put his crushing lecture into a bit of perspective. “That said, it is also important to not be prejudiced. Like with all things in life, there needs to be a good balance between giving the benefit of the doubt and exercising caution. And of course, there needs to be assertive evidence if one wants to assume the intentions of others.”

But wasn’t this just playing too much with his poor, young heart?!

Binghe looked up at him with slightly red rimmed eyes, but he stubbornly refused to let the wetness overflow. He had to concentrate to not let his voice crack or tremble, but it still came out barely above a whisper, “Shizun, what would you do if you had to choose between giving the benefit of the doubt and exercising caution?”

The disciple beheld the master as if he was faced with the judge responsible of either giving him a stay of execution or a death sentence. Shen Qingqiu was unwillingly given the rope holding back the blade of the guillotine threatening to behead his pupil’s perceived right to exist.

Shen Qingqiu had to swallow the soft words of reassurance which he desperately wanted to blurt out en masse to sooth the suddenly small figure in front of him. But he didn’t allow himself to offer more than some vague, half-baked words.

“I would advise you to favor tolerance and understanding whenever reasonably possible. You’ll find kindness more readily given and receive it multifold if it is a repayment of previous kindness.”

Binghe stared into nothingness for a long moment. Then, he seemed to have found some peace in the words after all. His voice returned almost back to normal and he blinked the last bit of wetness from his eyes away. “This disciple thanks Shizun for his wisdom.”

“This master is pleased to have such a studious student and is glad to share his teachings.”

They stood there for an awkward moment, both very uncomfortable although Shen Qingqiu managed to hide his discomfort much better.
He blamed, cursed and rioted at the System, the world and the much too common racists. He wasn’t lying! His contemporaries would probably think his stance still too lenient towards demons. Shen Qingqiu was being gracious.

…But deep down, he knew. It was not so much out of consideration for his disciple but out of cowardice. He didn’t want to die, so he searched for any and all excuses to give to a child which he’ll have to betray.  

In the end Shen Qingqiu dismissed Luo Binghe, but not without ‘graciously’ allowing him to move into the side room of his house, so the poor boy didn’t have to sleep in the woodshed like a punished dog anymore…The woodshed he (the OG) had sent him into, in the first place.

Fuck, he really needed to get his act together – literally.

With the direction and pace the System is currently going at, he has no idea when his next surprise performance is slated to happen. He wouldn’t put it past the endlessly cruel Shittem to spring the next trap of an encounter on him tomorrow even.

So, no more procrastination. Now is the time to spent another sleepless night filled with guilt, which he can invest in thinking up properly formulated platitudes before the betrayal.

Luo Binghe noticed none of Shen Qingqiu’s concerns; he was too overjoyed. He was used to sleeping on the cold ground, be it on the street, in caves or in the woodshed. The prospect of having his own room with a proper bed made of bamboo…that would be a luxury of a kind, which he had never tasted in his whole life before.

Luo Binghe felt his hopes and speculations reaffirmed again.

His Shizun was a gentle and merciful human. If he was a good disciple and never did anything that could considered ‘bad’, he would surely show him understanding. If he could show him – and the world – that he was no threat or danger, Binghe could be alright. Of course, he had never planned to do anything that could be considered evil in the first place, but now he only realized how good behavior was especially important for him. His life may very well depend on it.

He left Shizun with steeled resolve and a burning aspiration in his heart.

Chapter Text

Thank fuck, the System didn’t try another stunt like the unannounced nightmare plot again. Shen Qingqiu cobbled together some emergency lines, but anything of quality would need much more time than one sleepless night.
Not like he’s saying his finished script will be actual, good quality. It’ll probably just be much better than anything he could have whipped up on stage. And he’s not trying to win a Tony, Emmy, Oscar or whatever. Shen Yuan is an unambitious man. As long as he survives without being tortured, he’ll gladly take that as the sole prize.

Thus, he invested the remaining time until the Immortal Alliance Conference for planning. They still passed much too quickly for Shen Qingqiu’s taste; even if he manages to deliver a top-class performance of a lifetime, it’s still going to be a shitshow. 

While Shen Qingqiu cudgeled his brain to come up with a script from scratch, he tried his best to prepare Luo Binghe for his inevitable role as the tragic protagonist – preferably without acting too suspicious. He started with correcting his awful, dog shit stance and habits he had learned from being given false instruction manuals by the OG.

Then he started teaching about wild plants and every possible monster including the elusive ones which lurked inside the Endless Abyss. It was an unusual subject since these creatures were rare and thus very unlikely to be encountered in the human realm.
He included the other students in these lectures as well, because he couldn’t just give Luo Binghe private lessons about an obscure subject for no reason at all, could he? Imagine a PE teacher pulling a kid from class to give him private lessons about giraffes and unicorns… That’d be way too weird and suspicious.

But! If he did weird and suspicious shit in public with many witnesses, it’d only end up being weird! Kinda. Being secretive usually just leads to rumors which are way worse and more sinister than the truth, because overexaggerated versions are just juicier for gossip.

Luckily for him, Qing Jing peak was the peak for scholars and he could integrate the odd lectures into the schedule without it being outrageously out of place. He was certain he couldn’t have gotten away with this as easily if they had been on any of the other peaks.

He could pass off the lessons about the many ultra-rare wild herbs easy enough, since they also often had uses as boosters and helpers for cultivation. Comparatively few monster parts had healing or cultivation stimulating effects. Albeit it was always good to know what monster parts you could recycle for different purposes, it was much more important for Luo Binghe to learn where to attack and what to avoid when fighting specific monsters. The fact that monsters were Shen Qingqiu’s favorite thing to ramble about was just a little perk.

Perhaps his enthusiasm rubbed off on the students because none ever complained outright about being taught about creatures which no one ever expected to see. In other words, he was teaching them impractical shit they (except Binghe) would never ever use. Kinda similar to modern school, really.

…Right, maybe it’s closer to modern school than he’d like and they just resigned themselves to the nonsensical lesson plan because they believed they had no choice.

Anyway, apart from wasting their time with obscure monster facts, he did his best to be a good teacher and peak lord. He wanted to leave the best possible impression so his reputation would be harder to stain. Also, being nice was just what everyone should strive to be – basic decency and all that jazz.

Chapter Text

The Immortal Alliance Conference drew nearer and nearer until Shen Qingqiu decided he could no longer procrastinate. By now he hadn’t only thought about lines, but also came up with accompanying stage directions to appear more natural and create a greater dramatic effect at key junctions. He was no longer a mere actor steered by the System, but became the play writer of his own fate! Although whether he was actually any good at this forced labor remains to be seen…

Albeit the first part of his preparations had been clumsy and painful, it had still served its purpose. It depicted the reputed demon hater Shen Qingqiu as uncommonly temperate without contradicting his position as righteous cultivator. Contrary to the usual prejudice, his character didn’t despise demons per se, but only the demons who actually acted committed crimes – which applied to basically all demons, owing to natural inclination for more intense urges and their very different culture. What might constitute a crime in the human realm might be considered justified or even obligatory to defend one’s social standing in the demon realm.
This reasoning made Shen Qingqiu appear clement while still allowing him to uphold his duty of killing mob demons and other villains as a cultivator.

More importantly, this was a loophole tailored specifically for Luo Binghe. He was a demon who hadn’t committed any crimes. Therefore, it’d be in-character for this now established role to accept Binghe, while simultaneously rejecting almost all other demons.

To make the effect bigger, Shen Qingqiu will contrast this ‘mercy’ (basic human decency) to his own reputed disdain for ‘vile’ demonic practices and the ubiquitous racial hatred.

But straight-up accusing Binghe of being a half-demon would be suspicious. There’d need to be very distinct hints for his character to assume something this rare. Which in turn would make Binghe wonder why Shen Qingqiu was the only one to notice.

So, first Shen Qingqiu will accuse Binghe of learning demonic cultivation as a human cultivator. One didn’t actually need to be a demon to learn some demonic cultivation techniques. However, the spiritual qi of humans was fundamentally different from a demon’s qi. Their techniques were designed to run on demonic qi, of course. Trying to do them with spiritual qi was rarely cost-effective and could even be dangerous for the human user. It was like using the wrong fuel for your car. It might kinda run or it might bust up your engine.

More troublesome than the awful conversion rate or danger it posed for the user, it was really the connotations with demons that made it a taboo topic for human cultivators. It was heavily frowned upon if not forbidden by all official sects.
Common racism towards demons stretched not only to the other race itself but applied in extension to everything that somehow originated from them as well. To learn these techniques, you obviously needed a demon as teacher. Since demons weren’t known for their generosity or foible to share secret knowledge for free, it was safe to assume that any human capable of demonic cultivation had to enter a grave pact with a demon to obtain such skills.  
Among the common bargaining chips was swearing oneself into servitude (aka slavery with extra steps) or selling other humans by enabling the demon to comfortably collect his due. Albeit unwilling participants in those pacts made for awful servants, they did just fine as cattle. A major point of friction between the races was the fact that vast swaths of the demon realm considered human flesh a delicacy.

There were also quite a few techniques which were against the human moral code. E.g. whereas humans abhorred anything that meddled with the dead or death itself, demons had no such reservations. Necromancy was a rare but highly esteemed art among demon kind.

The sticking point of this whole farce was that one could choose to become demon apprentice whereas one couldn’t be in control of one’s bloodline.

If a disciple deliberately accepted a demon Shifu while still being under Shen Qingqiu’s tutelage, they’d be running with the demon and hunting with the humans. It’d be deeply disrespectful towards the human Shifu and more than enough reason to expel them from the human sect, which apparently wasn’t sufficient for them anyway.
Depending on their stance towards demons, a sect might require further punishment. It was common to cripple an offender’s meridians after their expulsion. Then the rogue would never be able to use any – be it demonic or spiritual – cultivation again. The reasoning of the sects was that the rogue wasn’t allowed to do demonic cultivation in the first place and now didn’t deserve the knowledge of their snubbed sect anyway, if they were willing to consort with the enemy.

But when his character ‘realizes’ that Luo Binghe is still just a fucking child who can’t do shit about his blood and has never hurt a fly, accepting Binghe would be a natural consequence to his painstakingly established moral code of judging people by their actions alone.

His earlier accusations will also remind Binghe of the normal reaction to anything pertaining to demons, so the boy should feel extra grateful.
Also, what’s the best way to shift the suspicion from oneself? It’s to lay the blame on someone else’s doorstep! People who know that they’ve done something forbidden will be paranoid and jump to conclusions about being caught with only a few implied words. Luo Binghe will be too busy defending himself to properly verify the method Shen Qingqiu used to ascertain his discovery.

To top it off, Shen Qingqiu will actively warn Binghe of the other cultivators, implying how they would still treat and despise him just like any other demon.

That was the sickening theory. Shen Qingqiu felt horrible for threatening and dangling something in front of Binghe, which should be a given to any child – love and acceptance. But it’d net him the necessary trust and guilt to influence Luo Binghe.

Also, he was fairly certain in his success chances as long as he didn’t majorly fuck up. Shen Yuan liked to believe he knew his little bun after watching over him for three years and reading 20 million words about his adventures.
There are two characteristics about Luo Binghe which his entire plan hinged on because Shen Qingqiu knew them to be unshakeable. Thus, he was confident in using these traits as basis and prerequisites to his scheming.

Firstly, the little white lotus was a notorious people-pleaser. The kid never tired of doing chores and practically begged for ever more tasks. Shen Qingqiu didn’t even pay him or give anything as reward for doing all the things his teacher ought to do himself. Apparently, a little praise was enough motivation to do a shitload of tedious crap for Luo Binghe because his smile at being praised never grew dimmer or less authentic, no matter how often Shen Qingqiu did it.
The fear about being rejected and possibly hated added another layer of pressure to hide his demon blood, perhaps even more so than the actual threat of pain or death. After all, the disciple had offered his life much too readily when he was faced with the Skinner and Elder Sky Hammer…Shen Qingqiu hoped it was just some distorted kind of juvenile bragging, but in this Xianxia world with its antiquated customs, people regularly put their face or honor above their lives.

Luo Binghe’s reputation would be better off, if he jumped into the Abyss and pretended to be dead than if he came out and tried to argue his case.
Even if he managed to persuade some with the magic that was the protagonist’s halo of charm, there would still be a lot of people who hated him for something he had no control over. Even heavenly emperor Bingge was still despised for it to some extent. The people just got much quieter about it because whoever mentioned it, would quickly become unable to ever say anything again.
The real and meta-reason for this opposition was that racism-fueled dissent gave Bingge (Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky) an easy excuse and more justification for his brutal reign and over-the-top retaliations. Reading about gore and violence scratched a morbid, but common itch of pampered modern people who never knew war but were the main demographic of PIDW. It'd still be easier to stomach for everyone and placate the opponents of senseless violence if one could vilify the victim though.

Secondly, Luo Binghe would never be able to drag someone down with him – he was much too selfless in the typical protagonist fashion. If someone else was in danger and especially if Luo Binghe himself was the reason for that danger, the protagonist would heroically sacrifice himself to protect the side character. On the other hand protagonist can’t be the one who gets saved; saving people is his job! Although he can’t die because of his halo, so the sacrifice’s extent is much more limited than the danger for the side character. But it’s the thought that counts.
Anyway, if Shen Qingqiu implied he was in danger because of Luo Binghe, then the transmigrator could guilt the child into doing what’s best for Shen Qingqiu in lieu of his own interests.

Shen Qingqiu wasn’t going to take any chances when it came to his fate of becoming a human stick, so he had deliberately chosen this probably effective, certainly douchy approach.

He set the showtime for two days before their departure to Jue Di gorge. It was early enough that it’d give Binghe some time to calm down before the conference but not so early, that the boy could start questioning Shen Qingqiu’s drivel on a deeper level.
Shen Qingqiu hoped the emotional fatigue and shock about his long-hedged secret being lifted, would impair Binghe’s judgement and make him impressionable enough to willingly jump into literal hell. 

Chapter Text

Stage fright grated on Shen Qingqiu’s nerves when he summoned his unsuspecting co-actor into his room for the next step of his preparations. Shen Qingqiu mentally went through his script and all the stage directions he had painstakingly prepared over the last three years while he waited for the action to start.
It was late in the evening and the day after tomorrow they were scheduled to set out for the Immortal Alliance Conference.

Like always, Luo Binghe appeared at the slightest beck of a call by Shen Qingqiu. He wore simple white training layers under the decorative outer ones in moss green. He had just come from instructing some younger disciples and a few hairs had gotten loose during the physical education. But it only softened the stiff propriety his elegant uniform of the scholarly peak implied and gave him a rather wild and passionate look.

Luo Binghe announced himself and waited patiently at the door for permission before setting foot inside. It wasn’t too unusual for Shen Qingqiu to summon him this late, as Luo Binghe would sometimes be given a few last-minute tasks, which had to be completed early on the next day. However, this time, Shen Qingqiu stood at the window of the little bamboo house and didn’t turn around when he allowed Binghe to enter.

Luo Binghe had noticed how his Shizun had been a little distracted the last few days, like he was pondering a problem. It had been noticeably worse today and he wondered if he would finally be told what was wrong. He suspected it’d have something to do with the upcoming Immortal Alliance Conference, which was a big and important event.
It involved all major and semi-major sects but not all peaks of Cang Qiong mountain could attend – it’d leave their home base too vulnerable if they sent every peak lord. Thus, some disagreements about entry allotments, political appearances or what-have-you were quite normal.
He had been curious all this time but hadn’t asked him. After all, it might seem appear a little presumptuous for Luo Binghe to impose on his teacher like he had the ability to solve whatever the other peak lords were grumbling about this time.

Shen Qingqiu continued to stand at the window as he asked Luo Binghe to sit down. He repeatedly opened and closed his fan inside his hand before ultimately deciding to keep it open and fan himself with it. It was one of his favorite fans. A snow-capped blue-grey mountain range was drawn on fine alabaster paper and embraced by a lacquered wooden guard.

Luo Binghe stared at the elegant back wrapped in layers and layers of white and teal silk. Oddly enough, Shen Qingqiu’s hair was still held up by a delicate silver hair ornament. He hadn’t divested himself yet from his most outer layers or armguards either, which he usually did as soon as he settled down for the evening. Luo Binghe wasn’t sure whether it was a blessing from heaven or a heavenly trial testing his willpower, but inside the privacy of his own home, Shizun sometimes stripped down to nothing but his three most inner layers. That left him with two undergarments and a half sheer layer pretending to be a token effort at modesty.

A few more heartbeats passed and Luo Binghe grew concerned. This whole atmosphere felt a little off. It was almost like Shen Qingqiu was avoiding looking at his disciple…But Luo Binghe couldn’t remember doing anything that could get him into trouble.
Whatever it was, this certainly didn’t seem like something good. He forced himself to remain silent and tried to not fidget on his seat at the table.

Shen Qingqiu let the cool air of his fan brush his face until he felt as calm as he expected he could be in this uncomfortable situation. And by now he had turned his back to Luo Binghe for long enough to create the desired dramatic effect. He hardened his heart and countenance and turned around to start the spiel.

He drawled, “Luo Binghe.”

The disciple went stiff and rigid in his seat. Shizun never addressed him with his full name. And it’s been a long time since he saw the man this… cold.
Luo Binghe was in trouble after all! But for what? He wrecked his brain for any little mishap that might have slipped his mind in the last few days. Somehow it made it worse that he couldn’t remember anything.

Shen Qingqiu’s heart twinged at how nervous Binghe became. They hadn’t even started yet but the poor child already looked spooked! He forced himself to harden his expression further until it turned stern and austere.
He channeled the OG, his inner scum villain. He hadn’t acted like this ever since the OOC restriction had been lifted. But now he wanted to revert to that old state, so that it’ll look even more merciful and impressive when he became accepting in the end.

“Does this disciple have anything to say to this teacher?” It would have been obvious to even an outsider how the teacher was prompting his student to confess on his own. A common implication hung in the air, in which the student would receive more leniency if he was forthcoming with his mistakes and divulged them on his own.  

But confess what? Binghe’s mind was blank, he couldn’t think of anything. He stuttered, “S-Shizun? This disciple does not know what he could have done to offend. But this disciple offers his deepest apologies nevertheless. Whatever it was that he has done, this humble one is terribly sorry and swears it was not his intention to affront Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but sigh at the break-neck speed they were approaching the disciple’s emotional devastation with. If this was already enough to make Binghe stutter, then Shen Qingqiu might have underestimated Luo Binghe’s emotional susceptibility.
To the disciple, who knew nothing about the reluctance of his teacher, the sigh could only be interpreted as…disappointment in Binghe. A shiver ran down his back. It had been so, so long since Shen Qingqiu had looked at him with such disapproval and coldness, he had almost forgotten what it felt like.

“Let this teacher ask a different question then. What does this disciple think is the duty of this teacher?”

Shen Qingqiu kept his fan in front of his face. He was grateful and confident in the OG’s almost impeccable mask, but he didn’t want to risk even the possibility of the slightest crack peeking through.

Luo Binghe was confused at the sudden change of topic but dared not to object. He wracked his panicked brain, before he sputtered, “Shizun’s duty is to fulfill his tasks as peak lord of Cang Qiong mountain…?”

Unsatisfied, Shen Qingqiu said, “…not wrong. But let this one phrase the question differently then. What does this disciple think is the duty of any teacher?”

Still baffled and anxious, all Luo Binghe could offer was a lame, “It is to…teach…?”

Shen Qingqiu pressed his lips into a tight line behind his fan to prepare himself for the inevitable fallout. “Indeed, it is to teach. For a cultivator this means to guide his disciples on to the righteous path of cultivation and protect them, should they stray. So, here this master asks of Luo Binghe: Is he still my disciple?”

For a moment only confusion appeared on Luo Binghe’s face, before it quickly morphed into pure horror. “B-B-But of course! Why would this disciple no longer be Shizun’s disciple??!”

Shen Qingqiu was cursing the System copiously in his mind while he stared a long moment at the young man in front of him. The face of the OG betrayed nothing; only an unreadable expression graced the elegant features. Then he finally approached the table Binghe was sitting at and lowered himself down on the seat opposite of the younger man, who had started seeping rivers of cold sweat.
Shen Qingqiu leaned slightly over the table as if scrutinizing his table-mate. Another heart beat later, his voice was flat and devoid of emotion as he ordered, “Give me your arm.”

Luo Binghe’s arm shot out from his side and basically threw itself in the waiting hand of his master. He did not know why or for what reason but never questioned his master even in the most peaceful settings, so how could he possibly begin to question a command in this terse situation?

Shen Qingqiu gingerly patted the younger man’s wrist with one hand while keeping his fan up with the other. His steely gaze never left Luo Binghe’s terrified eyes. Luo Binghe’s pulse thundered under the other’s thumb like a dying hare’s. Shen Qingqiu send a small amount of his own qi through the disciple’s meridians, poking and prodding his way through the boy’s energy pathways.

As Shen Qingqiu expected, he felt nothing amiss. Yet he snapped his fan shut with gusto to demonstrate the slightest down pull of lips. He put the fan aside to clasp the trembling appendage with his other hand to double down on his bluff.

With both hands he renewed his efforts as if he was making sure about his findings. After a moment, he unceremoniously let go of the hand that had long gone cold with clammy sweat.

Weak with anxiety and left on its own, the appendage fell down flat. Luo Binghe felt his heart sink the same moment his arm hit the table. He was too unnerved to even bother pulling it back and it continued to lay supine where it had been discarded.

The master withdrew his own hands to pick up his fan and snap it open again. His face vanished behind a barrier of painted bedrock over alabaster paper once more. He wanted to apologize to his mentee for frightening him. But he willed his expression into something false; something just as hard-lined and cold as the frosted peaks of the slate blue mountains.

Shen Qingqiu narrowed his eyes, never letting the boy escape his aloof gaze. The disciple was nailed down by the view and transfixed on his master. Pale as snow, beautiful like a landscape, unyielding and merciless like stone Shen Qingqiu spoke to the child, “So, you claim to be this master’s disciple…yet it was not me who taught you whatever it is that flows through your meridians. Nor does this one believe it to be in alignment with the principles of our righteous cultivation sect.“

Suddenly, all the pieces, which had previously mystified Luo Binghe, fell into place and understanding sunk in like powder snow crinkling under the steady footsteps of a trespasser.

The disappointment, the questioning of his loyalty, testing his meridians, the repeated reference to righteousness…

Torment and shame now joined the fear on the young face.

The pain of the student echoed in Shen Qingqiu. The guilt for causing it snared itself around his torso and lay heavily on his conscience.

The OG’s mask and folding fan served him well indeed.

Luo Binghe abruptly slid from his seat to kowtow in front of the table, his head knocking on the floor with a loud thud in his haste to make himself as small as possible.

The sudden motion and loud noise would have made Shen Yuan flinch. He was yet again impressed by the steadfastness of the OG’s body, which remained tacit. Inside his mind he was screaming. The protagonist just faceplanted in front of him to kowtow and even hurt himself! That couldn’t bode well; Binghe will surely remember this humiliation and take revenge for it later. Really unfair though, considering how Shen Qingqiu didn’t even ask him to do this!

Binghe didn’t even notice his forehead swelling slightly at the impact area; anguish numbed his brain as ‘Shizun knows! Shizun knows! Shizun hates demons!’ bounced around in his foggy mind.
In his panic the question on how his teacher could know, only registered dimly. Meng Mo had guaranteed him that he was a master at hiding his presence and the effects of his training... Luo Binghe believed himself a fool to trust a demon’s promise!

Luo Binghe’s parched throat could only muster stuttered apologies with a cracked and trembling tenor like a broken record. His tears threatened to overspill and dirty Shizun’s bamboo floor with his shame.

Was this it? Does Shizun hate him now? Was he at least allowed to beg for his life?

He needed to explain, to apologize properly! He was no danger – not to Shizun, his sect siblings nor anyone else! But his lips were somehow unable to form anything but these broken apologies.

Shen Qingqiu looked at the young man, who had almost reached 18 years in age. That was basically an adult in Shen Yuan’s world and should also be close to the age of majority in this world based on ancient China; although cultivation novels often liked to bend historic facts for convenience. It didn’t really matter anyhow. Shen Qingqiu had just reduced him back to a quivering child on the floor begging for clemency.
‘No, it is me who should ask for forgiveness! For being this terrible to you!’ he wailed within his heart. 

He forced himself to appear calm and stoic as he murmured, “Rise. Surely, Luo Binghe must have an explanation?”

The ball on the floor flinched and it was like a stab in Shen Qingqiu’s chest. Luo Binghe hiccupped and gasped a few times before he straightened himself with effort. He sat up on his hunches with a bowed head. His eyes have become slightly red but he barely managed to blink away the tears. Shen Qingqiu knew that if the tears managed to run free, his own heart would bleed as well.

Luo Binghe trembled as he stuttered through the whole story of his arrangement with Meng Mo. He dared not lie another time to his Shizun and explained every little detail he could think of in his disheveled state.
Shen Qingqiu of course already knew everything, but put great efforts into retaining his façade, appearing to listen closely while contemplating the implications.

The young man ended his explanation with another round of pleas for forgiveness and at last, begged for his life. “I’m so sorry, Shizun. Please forgive me. Please don’t k-kill me. Please. I-I have learned the demonic cultivation methods and may be part demon, but- but I haven’t hurt anyone with it, I swear! I’ve never, ever even considered harming anyone with them. Really! I- I just wanted to…become…stronger…to protect…Shi-…”
He couldn’t say the last word, his tongue felt numb and heavy like a useless slab of meat. He couldn’t just claim he diverted from the righteous path – from Shizun’s teachings – for the sake of Shizun with something the man was known to despise. It felt almost like an insult; cheap excuse no one would believe…He cast his gaze on his own trembling fists, which were now clenched on his thighs as he kneeled on the floor. He trailed off as his voice suddenly sounded foreign and shameful even to himself. “Please…believe me…”

‘Please, don’t hate me’, he wanted to plead, but he was more afraid of the response to this than to all the other pleas he had made.

Binghe looked and sounded so small, so young – and innocent.

The conniving and best course of action was probably to kick him some more while he was down – imply how the Xiu Ya sword would have a hard time believing any demon after all his years of experience. It’d make Binghe feel even worse, which in turn would only make Shen Qingqiu look better later on.

But Shen Qingqiu couldn’t do it. He didn’t even try albeit he knew he should. He didn’t want to.

Thus, he gave in; perhaps a little too quickly for his intended role. At length he responded evenly, “…I believe you.”

Luo Binghe stopped trembling for a few seconds as these words sunk in and then started anew, but now for a different reason. He slowly raised his gaze and mumbled, “…really…?” The blossoming hope on this young face at these pathetic scraps of humanity offered to him was too much for Shen Qingqiu. Any thoughts of adhering to his own script were buried under suffocating pity and heart-wrenching guilt.

Shen Qingqiu said earnestly, “Yes, and I’ve never had the intention to kill you.”
It’s not like he or anyone else were capable of killing Binghe, considering his protagonist halo. But regardless of that, he naturally never had even the slightest desire to harm any of his students.

Even now, Shen Qingqiu hadn’t uttered anything remotely close to a threat or the slightest violent intent. No, everything Luo Binghe thought right now was a product of his own grim imagination nudged along by Shen Qingqiu’s framing.
It’s quite depressing to realize just how low Binghe’s expectations for other humans must be for this farce to work so well.

Binghe’s sobbing pulled Shen Qingqiu out of his commiseration. “…Shizun…!”

Finally, the tears managed to abscond. Shen Qingqiu was appalled. The novel had been very clear on the fact that Bingge never cried again after Shen Qingqiu poured the hot tea over him at his enrollment. Never. Not once during the torture that followed under Shen Qingqiu nor during his time in the Endless Abyss.

But now Shen Yuan inside Shen Qingqiu had somehow managed to do what years of abuse and literal hell could not. The most disturbing thing however, was that these tears seemed to be out of gratitude. ‘Don’t look at me like that, I’m the one who hurt you in the first place…’, he cringed.

Nevertheless, the show had to go on. He had already gone this far, there was no more turning back.

“Admittedly, the situation is…a little different to what I expected”, he said. He hadn’t expected it to be bad enough to make Binghe cry! “I had long suspected that there had been something changing inside you. But demon blood? That is… exceptionally rare…”

It really was, he couldn’t think of any other named character in PIDW who was explicitly mentioned to have mixed heritage. Because of course, the protagonist had to be special in every possible regard!
Which is why Shen Qingqiu deliberately didn’t elaborate on what he was accusing Binghe for.   

However, human cultivators who took an interest in demonic cultivation had been mentioned several times. They were more common than the higher authorities on cultivation liked. Demons offered a few things, which human cultivation was entirely unable to do or simply had no equivalent technique for. The practice was considered joining the enemy camp and thus forbidden. If the cultivators were found out, they’d be expelled from their sect at the very least and many had to endure further punishment. As such, it was easy to pull these outcasts under Bingge’s rule and they became his first human supporters.

The white lotus protagonist was still weeping as he nodded mutely. Binghe didn’t want to think about the barbaric implications of his conception.

So, Shizun had thought him only an unfilial cultivator dappling in demonic practices? For a moment Binghe felt the hysteric urge to laugh at revealing his whole hand and making himself look even worse than what Shizun had imagined. But…despite being informed of a much worse situation, it almost seemed like Shizun was now less farouche…?

“How much control do you have? Over the dream demon and your other abilities? What have you used them for so far?”, asked Shen Qingqiu when he finally felt the will to return to his script. He knew the answers, but these questions and their implications were crucial. He should have been harsher in the first place, yet he couldn’t go that route now after already consoling Binghe.

Luo Binghe licked his dry lips. The estimation for how much of a threat he’ll possibly pose will hinge on this answer. He carefully chose his words while making sure that none were a lie. “A lot. I block out Meng Mo while awake. And when I sleep, he instructs me, but I’ve since learned to be the master of my own dreamscape.

I have not practiced any abilities in my waking state yet. Meng Mo had assured me that they would not be noticeable as long as it remained that way. But as expected of Shizun…you were able to see through me and the deception…” He lowered his gaze and his fist clawed into the white silk on his thighs.

“Hmm. The change is exceptionally subtle. I believe this teacher only noticed himself because he had become quite acquainted with Binghe’s qi over the years. It wouldn’t surprise me if other people were unable to tell that anything was amiss.”

Of course, they wouldn’t. Because there was nothing amiss, at least not perceptively. Meng Mo was a true master of his craft and held his promise. Shen Qingqiu only knew because he had read the novel. The earlier test was just for show.

Binghe’s tears had slowly ebbed. He was now looking at his Shizun in a mix of apprehension and confusion.

“Binghe, what do you want to do with these…abilities of yours? To what ends are you planning to use it?”, Shen Qingqiu inquired. He tried to look austere but also reserved. He must make Binghe believe that Shen Qingqiu is risking something for being a half-decent human ffs.

Luo Binghe swallowed thickly before pressing out, “This disciple wishes to do no harm. This disciple would only use his demonic powers if he was absolutely forced to – only in self-defense or the defense of someone dear to him. Never anything else. This disciple swears it on his humble life.”

He was met with another long, intense gaze of Shen Qingqiu, which he bore as best as he could. Luo Binghe was determined to hold his word.

By contrast, the transmigrator doubted it. The blackened protagonist was supposed to use his busted demonic powers to subjugate most of this and the demon realm. He didn’t actually expect Luo Binghe to hold his promise.

Shen Qingqiu snapped his fan shut again and tapped the closed device on his left palm as if deep in thought. In reality, he was just counting his taps. If he decided too quickly, it’d look too yielding, but he also didn’t want to prolong Binghe’s suffering more than he already had to.

One…two…three…four…five … a slight pause as if he came to a decision…the sixth and last tap was a little firmer to signify the end of his ‘deliberation’.

“I see…Binghe…

Your circumstances are…a precedent, certainly. This master had first assumed Binghe to willfully ignore our sect’s teachings in search of power or nefarious goals. However, this master acknowledges that Binghe’s unusual constitution required special guidance, which this teacher can not provide.
Studying under another demon was a necessity for this disciple’s own health. Yet I’ve never seen you wield any of your powers in harmful ways like your kinsfolk is quite prone of.

Henceforth, this master can’t punish you for a crime, which you’ve not committed.

Furthermore, I’ve watched over Binghe for many seasons now. It is this familiarity that has allowed this master to recognize the change in Binghe in the first place. And this familiarity also allows this master to place his trust in this disciple’s word to uphold his peaceful ways”, Shen Qingqiu lied.

Luo Binghe’s eyes shimmered and he looked like was about to burst into tears any moment again. “…Shizun…!” His chest ached and the incredulous relief flooded him like a tide. He could barely digest that Shizun was still willing to trust him despite knowing about his heritage – despite lying in Shizun’s face for over two years, even!
But hadn’t it always been like this? Shizun had always placed more faith in Luo Binghe than Luo Binghe himself. Whether it was in his chances to best an Elder demon in a duel or when defending his disciple’s capabilities in front of other peak lords.

New guilt rushed into him and squeezed out more tears to fall flat on the bamboo floor. How could he have hidden this and betray Shizun’s trust in him?!

“I’m so sorry, Shizun! I should have trusted you more. Of course! How could I have been this blind?? Thank you, thank you for still believing in this worthless disciple!” It all came out a jumbled, rushed mess as he kowtowed again, repeatedly hitting his head on the floor.   

With every word of gratitude and every overdramatic faceplant, Shen Qingqiu’s guilt rose to new heights. Binghe had become so used to abuse and hardships, that someone expressing no wish to kill him made this poor child weep with gratitude.
However, Shen Qingqiu pressed on for the sake of not being deleted by the System.

“Rise, Binghe. This teacher understands Binghe’s reluctance of disclosing his lineage. There are those who do not know this disciple as well as this teacher. They might not be able to discern your…differences at first glance, but if they found out, this teacher must warn you. They will not know of Binghe’s gentleness. They might be… biased and will treat you according to those biases...”

Shen Qingqiu did not have the heart to be more explicit. It wasn’t necessary anyway. Binghe sat up straight again but his eyes promptly glazed over. Lifeless eyes hung above raw, glistening tear tracks and stared through Shen Qingqiu into nothingness. For all his previous, loud sobbing, the young man’s sudden quiet and empty gaze was now unnerving.

Shizun’s phrasing almost made him laugh out loud. The wording was so mild and flowery, it could barely even qualify as an understatement anymore. He still felt infinitely grateful towards Shizun, but his hot tears turned bitter at the reminder of what was considered ‘normal’. 

Chapter Text

If he had to be killed, Luo Binghe would want it to be at the hands of Shen Qingqiu. Not only because Shen Qingqiu was the man, he respected the most but also because he knew his teacher was never cruel even when he took a life. Despite his reputation as Xiu Ya sword and exorcist, he was never inhumane to any of the monsters, ghosts, demons or other otherworldly entities. Even when faced with violent demons, who were downright basking in the stench of their crimes, Shizun never prolonged their deaths.

Some cultivators took vicious joy in drawing out fights against weaker opponents and seemingly reveled in the power play of holding someone’s life in the palm of their hands.

The especially bold ones even liked to beckon crowds of passersby with flashy moves. Luo Binghe had been witness to such tasteless spectacles a few times before. The demon or monster would be reduced to nothing but a prop to boost the cultivator’s ego. A resounding victory then gave the cultivators an excuse to boast or demand gratitude from the local folk.
Although it wasn’t a common occurrence, Luo Binghe knew it was not out of courtesy for the demons, but for the sake of upholding the aloof, elegant image of immortal cultivators. There were plenty of cultivators who were not shy to voice their hatred for demons in other ways.

He had expected it. It was more normal than not. All the more reason for him to be reeling with relief at Shizun’s revelation of tolerance.

“This disciple is aware…”, he muttered.

Shen Qingqiu said, “Then you should know that you must absolutely continue to hide these abilities of yours if you wish to stay on Qing Jing peak…”

Luo Binghe started trembling again when the meaning of Shizun’s words slowly sunk in. He had been so worried about the prospect of being killed on the spot that he had not even considered the possibility that Shizun could simply cast him out. In fact, expulsion from the sect was the mildest penalty for practicing demonic cultivation. And that didn’t factor in the possibility of the disciple to be part demon…

Yet, Shizun had just offered him the opportunity to remain here. Shizun wasn’t just going against the norms of society here, he was breaking the clear-cut rules of the sect for Binghe!

The revelation left rivers of relief on his cheeks.

Despite everything, Luo Binghe had not dared to assume before, but now his fears were once and for all vanquished. Luo Binghe had dreaded the possibility that Shizun wouldn’t think him deserving of death but still of hatred. But no one would make such a generous, unprompted offer if they hated the recipient.

He sobbed, “Y-Yes! Of course…t-this disciple wants to stay here…here with Shizun! If only Shizun lets him, this disciple will do anything to be allowed! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Shen Qingqiu felt like crying tears of blood. He dimly wondered whether exploiting a child’s emotional frailty for his own means would count as emotional abuse. In the end, he only felt a notch above the OG’s scumminess.
But it would be over soon…just a few more lines of script…

Shen Qingqiu allowed his face to soften and show a glimpse of the sadness that was drowning him. “Binghe will be allowed as long as no one else finds out. For Binghe should know…this secrecy is not only for his own safety…”

Binghe had a hard time following. His heart and mind felt like a Dark Grass Elephant Parrot had trampled everything into mush.

Shen Qingqiu elaborated, “If someone becomes privy to Binghe’s secret, it’ll invite danger regardless of the opinion of the other person.
If they scorn your congenital nature, they will likely rally more people of a similar mindset to execute, what they believe is ‘right’. Unfortunately, this mindset is rather…common. Even among the more enlightened cultivators…This master must confess, he does not have the power nor influence to shield Binghe should the broad public demand…satisfaction of their biases.

If they are sympathetic, the knowledge will bear its own share of risks. Should Luo Binghe’s secret be lifted, anyone who had been privy to it will be made responsible for helping to obscure it in the first place…”, Shen Qingqiu trailed off. He didn’t have the spine to spell out his cowardice.

Binghe stopped sobbing and tensed up. He chewed over the unsaid implication hung in the air.

Shizun knew he was part demon and had allowed him to stay in the sect. His teacher was basically hiding him away in plain sight. If his secret is lifted, Binghe wouldn’t be the only one to suffer anymore. Shizun would be branded as demon sympathizer and punished as well. Since Shizun was a peak lord and thus representative of Cang Qiong mountain, the whole sect would lose face over such a gross rule and moral transgression. At the very best Shizun would completely lose his standing and position in the sect. At worst…Shizun and anyone else who dared to help Binghe… as demon sympathizers they could be subjected to the same treatment as demons…

Binghe felt his stress rile up the contents of his stomach.

He had been caught off-guard today because he hadn’t done anything which could be considered suspicious. However, over the last two years he had had time to mentally prepare himself to some degree for the involuntary exposure of his secret and then the eventual demon hunt. He could accept that – had to accept the very likely possibility if he wanted to be realistic. He found his inner peace with that prospect rather quickly.
Luo Binghe had long been wondering what purpose or worth his life – the life of a demon-human bastard – could hold…After considering the way almost everyone in his life had treated him, he had realized there was precious little indication that it was worth much. Losing something that was worthless was not something that needed to be mourned.

But to drag other, innocent people down together with him? To drag down Shizun and be potentially responsible for his fall of grace and possible death? He’d rather die on the spot; right here, right now.

“I-I…I can’t. This…I…Shizun…you mustn’t. If that…then…kill me”, Binghe mumbled in a haze and he started gagging as bile and acid revolted in their suddenly cramped confines.
There were too many emotions bursting from where he had bottled them up for years and new ones he didn’t know what to do with. They warred with each other and alternated in quick and brutal successions until he got emotional whiplash. He couldn’t handle this – the pressure, the responsibility, the guilt.

Alarmed, Shen Qingqiu quickly sat down beside Binghe and put his hand on his disciple’s back to transfer qi and calm him down. The qi streamed into Binghe’s meridians and guided the agitated energy into its proper paths, preventing the possibility of a qi deviation.

Shen Qingqiu watched on in horror. Oh god, what did he do?! He somehow managed to make Binghe suicidal?! How?? Why??

This was NOT planned! Definitely not! If he knew it would come to this, he’d rather have been yeeted off into the Abyss himself than to play out this scumbag script of his. He and his fucking stupid plans. He should have flushed it down a toilet! Even if there are no toilets in this world! He’d rather have invented one just to dispose of this fucking useless, awful and immoral mess of a plan.

He fucking broke the kid! Wasn’t this worse than the OG?? Just what the hell happened??

Anyway, first, he needed to calm down Binghe and dissuade him from that crazy, very, very depressing idea!

Shen Qingqiu made his voice as soft as he could. “What? Didn’t this teacher just tell you it was alright…? I’m doing this all so Binghe’s life will not be risked.”

Blessedly, Binghe stopped dry heaving without actually spilling the contents of his stomach. “I don’t deserve this. Shizun doesn’t deserve this. It is too risky…Kill-”

“No”, Shen Qingqiu cut him off before he could finish that delirious request. The interruption shocked Binghe into temporary silence. “B-But-“

“No buts! How can this disciple ask his teacher for something this outrageous? After all this master offered to you?!”

Binghe didn’t understand, but still tried, “I- I didn’t mean to offend, just-“

“But offend you did!”, Shen Qingqiu was aghast at his own tone that came out much too harsh; courtesy of his mounting panic. He modulated his voice back into a sweet, soft timbre.
“This disciple has no right to act this irresponsibly with his life. This teacher is willing to risk his reputation and more, so Binghe can continue his life here on Qing Jing peak as before. Are you doubting this teacher’s judgement or his own worth?”

“No! But-“ Binghe was utterly confused and devastated.

“I just said no buts! This teacher thinks your way of life, your future as cultivator, is worthy to be protected. So, if you’re willing to throw away your life just like that, it must mean you either think me a fool or what I’m willing to risk is just as worthless as you pretend your life is.”

At this point Binghe’s face was splotchy and swollen from all the crying, yet it didn’t seem like the tears were soon to stop.

“Bu-“, Binghe managed to stop himself just in time before he said the word he wasn’t allowed to say again. Instead, he only whispered the questions that had been weighing down his mind for so long now, “Why is Shizun so nice to me? Why does Shizun risk so much for me…?”

These questions had been long haunting him long before this evening. Ever since the demon invasion and the resulting poisoning, it had become clear that Shizun was willing to give his life for Binghe’s. And that just didn’t seem fair to Binghe.

Shizun was a peak lord on the second most prestigious peak of the strongest sect. He was respected by everyone and would be missed and mourned by the whole Cang Qiong mountain should anything befall him. Not to mention that he was a talented, immortal cultivator! He went through many hardships to reach this stage of cultivation and should be rewarded with several hundred years at least, which was his now expected minimum life span.

On the other hand, Luo Binghe was a mortal and demon-human mongrel, unwanted by anyone. His existence alone was a sin to most humans…his conception most likely was a sin. Even his own mother could not love him – she chose to leave him for dead instead. If he originated from sin and violation, how could he grow into anything else? If he was his Shizun’s downfall, wouldn’t it just prove how he was uncapable of amounting to anything but tragedy and misfortune?

Shen Qingqiu observed how Binghe’s face contorted itself in anguish. The teacher tried to come up with anything to dissuade the disciple from whatever depressing train of thought he was currently chasing.

Shen Qingqiu replied tenderly, “Silly disciple. Didn’t Shizun just tell you why? Binghe said he still wishes to be this master’s disciple. Then it is this master’s duty to do what he thinks is best for this disciple’s safety and future.”

Binghe choked on his sobs. He couldn’t breathe; he didn’t care. All that mattered was that Shizun still accepted Binghe as his disciple. He’d rather lose his life than his apprenticeship with Shizun.

…but if they had known, he wouldn’t have been allowed to become Shizun’s disciple in the first place. Wasn’t it wrong and unfair of him to claim, what never should have been his?

“But I’m a demon! A demon’s life for...don’t you hate demons…?”, Binghe’s voice diminished and trailed off in fear.
He knew he wasn’t supposed to say ‘but’ anymore and he was disrespectful. He had been for a while now as he forgot to use the correct titles in his agitation and confusion.
He was too afraid of the answer to his question now to care for anything else.

Shen Qingqiu still transferred qi to Binghe – it didn’t look like the boy had calmed down enough to be out of the danger zone for a qi deviation yet. Unsure, what else he could possibly provide for in apology, Shen Qingqiu now put the other hand on the boy’s head and pat softly.

The older man tried to be as gentle as he could, when he amended, “This teacher is not so old yet to forget something he was told just a few minutes ago. And I can’t say that I’m fond of demons per se…
I’ve known Binghe as a demon for a few minutes now. But I’ve known Binghe as my diligent disciple for many years.

Binghe, you are part demon. But there is so much more to you.

Don’t let what you are detract from who you are.”

An echo of their previous conversation almost three years ago rang in Luo Binghe’s ears. ‘We might not always be able to choose how we look or what we are, but we can choose how we act, making us who we are.’ Binghe had always held that conversation very close to his heart as it gave him hope. But back then, this hope had been frail and uncertain. It was always easy to take the high ground when one pondered hypothetical concepts.

But now Shizun had been confronted with a very real situation, which hit impossibly closer to home than the man could have ever anticipated. Yet Shen Qingqiu never strayed from his words or morals – thus, the teacher’s support never truly left the diligent student’s side either.

Binghe broke down. He no longer cared about propriety or anything else but the soothing hand on his back and the reassuring pats on his head. He fully turned towards his teacher now and desperately clung to the other man’s torso like a lifeline, lest he be swept away by the suffocating tightness in his chest. He buried his face in the crook of Shen Qingqiu neck and pressed his forehead on the older man’s shoulder to soak the silky green garments in his unending tears.

Shen Qingqiu let him.

They stayed like this for quite a while – Binghe cried his eyes out and with his tears, his accrued sorrows slowly drained from him as well.

Unbeknownst to the disciple, the shoulder he leaned on struggled to keep steady for the weeping child. Shen Qingqiu was almost just as upset and had to fight his own tears now.

They’ve veered waaaayy off course from his fucking stupid script.

He had never expected this kind of response. In his panic, Shen Qingqiu had spouted whatever he thought would calm Binghe down. He didn’t particularly pay attention to what he said was truth or lie, logical or nonsense.

Now in the aftermath, he remembered Binghe was completely unkillable and safe from everyone – including himself.
But that didn’t mean it was ok for him to be suicidal! Not in the slightest!

Shen Qingqiu had somehow managed to be bigger scum than the original villain while trying to improve the story. Improve my ass! Turns out he’s an absolutely shit script writer but an exceptional scum villain when he wasn’t even trying to be.
…or perhaps, he’s too ‘good’ of a writer. He admitted, he had wanted Binghe to be emotionally vulnerable, so he’ll be more trusting. But this was just way too much! His script was too effective at what it was supposed to do, to the point it actually became harmful. It hurt Binghe. 

But what should he do now? His initial thought was to abandon his catastrophic plan. Yet his rational side warned him that it might be too late for that. Even if he nixed the script, how was he supposed to come up with an alternative way to convince the protagonist into the Abyss? Much less think up a proper compensation for Binghe’s trauma.
The Immortal Alliance Conference was looming right at his doorstep!

Shen Qingqiu’s choices were limited to going through with what he had already written, shoving Binghe into literal hell without any sensible reason or being deleted for refusing to shove Binghe at all.

In other words, his options basically amounted to stepping into dog shit, into a patty of bullshit or on a rusty nail!

…………..…If he thought about it in these graphic parables, the choice actually became much easier.

The option of shoving Binghe with no or only a bullshit reason was swiftly disqualified. It wouldn’t make Binghe feel better in the slightest, only make Shen Qingqiu look like a shitty hypocrite for going back on his word. It just smelled like a worse, even fouler version of his already immoral mess of a shit script.

What was left was choosing between shit beneath your shoe or tetanus. A very disgusting, but uncomplicated choice, which should leave no room for hesitation.

Any sane man would choose the first.

In the shit option, Luo Binghe’s protagonist halo would ultimately guarantee his life. If he lived, there’d always be the possibility of scraping off the crap and the unpleasant smell would fade with a good shower and time – whereas they couldn’t just revive Shen Yuan. Death couldn’t be undone. At least not for a side character like him – this is a stallion novel, not Dragon Ball!

Once Binghe got out of the Abyss (and didn’t turn Shen Qingqiu into a human stick), his teacher would gladly help him heal any trauma Binghe received in the Abyss with whatever means the transmigrator possessed. The immortal cultivator would dedicate his life to it if he had to.

To top it off, Shen Qingqiu swore he’d never be selfish again and forever put Binghe’s needs over his own after this! Shen Qingqiu only needed to live to be afforded the possibility of repentance!

They could rebuild Luo Binghe’s self-worth together – if it even was still injured at the point of his return. Luo Binghe was fucking awesome and the protagonist. He’s going to be showered with attention of hundreds of sexy ladies, so why would he need confirmation or approval from an old man like Shen Qingqiu?

And if Binghe could survive five years in literal hell, these fleeting suicidal ideations should be hardly worth remembering anyway, right…!?

Luo Binghe’s protagonist halo will protect Binghe in any case.
Maybe he kinda ‘wants’ to die a little right now, but he won’t. It is Shen Qingqiu who will die, if he doesn’t follow his plan!

His life was much more important than a few hurt feelings! So he will do it – anything – in order to survive.

…He hated himself a little for that thought…

Although this was objectively the best course of action, Shen Qingqiu envisioned the miserable consequences: Once the curtain fell on this inadvertently self-penned tragedy of the transmigrator, hell might await both disciple and master.  

For Luo Binghe in the practical and realistic form of the cruelty in the Endless Abyss.

For Shen Qingqiu quite possibly in the abstract, but verbatim form of damnation for his soul. He reckoned what he did to the sweet, innocent child might make him qualify.

Chapter Text

Binghe clung to his teacher for a long while after he had calmed down. The tears had stopped, but Binghe just kept nuzzling his head on Shen Qingqiu’s now soaked shoulder anyway.

As the half demon regained his composure, his qi also stabilized. When he was no longer in danger of qi deviation, Shen Qingqiu slowly tapered off his transfusion, which Binghe seemed to tolerate well enough. But when the pale, soft fingertips made the slightest indication of pulling away, the back started to quiver again. Thus, Shen Qingqiu reapplied his hand and started rubbing small, calming circles on Luo Binghe’s back.
Even when the trembling ebbed away, Shen Qingqiu didn’t dare to stop the movement. He was too afraid of upsetting the disciple again.

At this point Binghe just didn’t want to let go. He wanted to enjoy the warmth and wished it would never stop.

He thought about what he could do now. Shizun forbid him from forfeiting his life, so he had to live. If not for himself, then for Shizun. But in what way could he live to endanger Shizun as little as possible?

A small part of him reasoned that it would be safest for Shizun if Binghe stayed away – far away. He could refuse Shizun’s very generous offer of staying his disciple and leave Qing Jing peak and the sect. If he got exposed after becoming a rogue cultivator, his former master wouldn’t be accused of covering for a demon.

But…that would entail abandoning everything. After his mother died, her employers had chased Luo Binghe out from their dingy garden shed, where he had slept. He had nowhere else to go, no place to stay at.
However, he had been a street child before and managed. Now with decent cultivation, he could probably scrape together a living in one way or the other. He wouldn’t need much in the first place. He was used to very humble circumstances and could always sleep on the floor or in the wilderness like he had for most of his life.

What he really refused to give up was what he was currently clamping down on for dear life. What kind of life would it even be, if Shen Qingqiu wasn’t in it?

…He couldn’t earnestly entertain the idea of leaving his master.

Luo Binghe will stay here.
A tingling warmth spread through his chest when he realized how right this decision felt – he belonged here. This was his home.

If he had to hide away his despicable demon part to be allowed here, so be it. It was a small price to pay; one which had always been intent on paying anyway.

When he became sure that his voice would no longer crack, he readied himself to assure his teacher of his mounting inner determination. He took a deep breath. Since he was all but pressed on Shen Qingqiu, he noticed the mild fragrance of green tea clinging to his teacher’s silken garments. It was balm for his nerves, for that specific brand of tea was his teacher’s favorite. Luo Binghe always delighted in brewing it for him since it often earned him the smallest little sigh of satisfaction at the first sip.

Luo Binghe turned his head so his face wouldn’t be buried in the crook of Shen Qingqiu’s neck anymore. His cheek leaned against Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder now, so his voice would no longer be muffled. He couldn’t look his teacher in the eye in this position, but Luo Binghe absolutely refused to let go of the other man or bring more distance between them.

He hoped his tone carried the iron conviction his will had forged years ago. It had only been honed further under the heat of duress in the last few minutes.

The voice was soft but confident. “This disciple thanks Shizun for his offer a thousand times and humbly accepts with unending gratitude.
Shizun can rest assured that this disciple will lock away his demon part and keep both Shizun and himself safe. If it does come to it somehow, this disciple will vehemently refute any involvement of Shizun to keep his reputation pure.”

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t see the hardened steel in the young man’s black eyes but he heard the edge in the words. There was a thinly veiled sharpness, which was clearly not meant for Shen Qingqiu but more in reprimand of the speaker himself.

Hesitation interrupted the smooth circles on Luo Binghe’s back for a moment before they picked up again as if nothing had happened.

Shen Qingqiu was glad Binghe couldn’t see his face right now, so he wouldn’t have to worry about suppressing the grimace which was tugging on the elegant, immortal features right now.

In the novel, the good reputation of the OG had been nothing but a façade. No one knew the true nature better than Luo Bingge, who had been the prime victim of the OG’s cruelty. It had been justified and deeply gratifying to read about how Luo Bingge was the one to tear it down.
For this Binghe to refer to his reputation as ‘pure’ and profess his desire to protect it; it was an irony so warped, Shen Yuan almost felt dark amusement well up at the uncharacteristic twist.

Alas, Shen Qingqiu felt too guilty to find any mirth in his disciple’s genuine words. How can the boy talk so reverently about his teacher when he was nothing but harsh on himself?

Shen Qingqiu said, “This disciple has already thanked this master, so there’s no need for further prostration.
Furthermore, taciturnity is very much necessary right now because of the unfortunate circumstances.

But Binghe does not need to talk about his…special constitution like it was something worthy to be condemned.”

Shen Qingqiu’s words were like cool water on Binghe’s red-hot sentiments hammered into shape by the ‘unfortunate circumstances’. Yet…instead of tempering his beliefs into a durable alloy, the sudden temperature difference only produced cracks in the still malleable morals of the young half demon.

The back under his hands stiffened again, so Shen Qingqiu quickly continued, “After all, you’ve never abused that power yet, have you? Binghe, it is not sensible to blame any part of yourself for something which you haven’t done in the first place.”

Luo Binghe’s mind had been eagerly committing every single word of Shen Qingqiu to heart – just like always. Now, he just couldn’t help but notice that one small, but frightening word “yet”.

The man in his arms stayed still for a long moment until Shen Qingqiu believed him appeased. But then a voice rough with emotion remarked, “…My demon part has not hurt anyone else yet, but it causes pain for me.

…I hate it. I never wished for this…”

The demon blood was the reason why everyone instinctually despised Luo Binghe. It must be – there was no other justifiable reason why so many people were nothing but malicious to him ever since he was a child.

Shen Qingqiu felt a shiver run down his back at the clear utterance of self-hatred. He had known for a long while, but now he could no longer deny it when it is thrown into his face like this.
Although the latter part of Binghe’s sentiment surprised him a little. At this point, Binghe’s powers should still be sealed. So how could they have any effect besides a self-imposed psychological burden?

Shen Qingqiu’s own unease escalated the pats on Binghe’s head until long, slender fingers were carding through the warm locks absent-mindedly; half to calm Binghe and half to sooth himself. The protagonist’s hair had an amazingly soft and silky-smooth texture; it was better than any stress ball!  

The master ventured, “No one has control of their heritage. Therefore, no one can be blamed for it. But tell this master, how has this part of Binghe hurt him?”

Luo Binghe tensed despite the gentle ministrations.

What was meant to be an absolution of guilt only ignited sparks of doubt inside him. His previously doused convictions were now blistering in the heat of a different color.

It shook what had been a solid and faithful foundation for his oath until his words were groaning under the weight of ominous foreboding. His resolve had been nothing but honest and determined, when he had sworn to never use his demonic powers for evil. But…if no one had control of their heritage, does this mean Binghe would be unable to act against his demon nature?

Shizun had once said that demons were not born evil, yet basically all ended up doing evil anyway. Whether it was by nature or choice, Binghe had always regarded demons as bad.

Luo Binghe is currently good, but he was also still very young and his powers subdued. What if whatever drove adult demons to their wickedness will consume him as well?
Meng Mo had said that the seal on his demon powers was weakening and it’d only be a question of time until it broke – it could not be stopped, only stalled.

…if Shizun knew about Binghe’s wavering resolve, would he be disappointed? Shen Qingqiu’s possible disapproval terrified Luo Binghe just as much as the notion of losing control over his own actions.
Yet he was loath to lie to his master. So, he opted to rephrase the truth in a more ambiguous tone.

“It…causes me anguish and shame to be related to such vile creatures…”

Shen Qingqiu cursed inside his mind, ‘Well, fuck. What the hell did we have that supremely awkward conversation after the nightmare plot for, if Binghe still believes demons to be evil?’

“Ah, Binghe. Have we not talked about this before? Demons aren’t inherently bad – if anything, Binghe should be proof.”

Luo Binghe grit his teeth until his jaw ached and his knuckles turned white as he fisted them in the silk of his master’s outer layers. That exactly was his concern, that he would not be proof of that theory.

The half demon asserted, “But almost all of them become evil anyway, don’t they?
As Shizun said, a baby hardly has the agency to be considered evil. But if all the children grow into wicked adults, it must be somehow part of their nature after all. Perhaps it is not inherent in the sense of inborn, but could still be considered hereditary…No wolf is born with teeth, yet give them enough time and the pups will all eventually grow fangs to bare...”

…why did Binghe have to be so smart. That was a real good counter-argument against Shen Yuan’s claim from their first discussion.

Ah, of course. For the same reason why the whole race was uber-violent in the first place. Or how half the demons looked just like humans whereas the rest appeared as anything ranging from cat girls to bestial Chimeras. As monster enthusiast, one of Shen Yuan’s biggest pet peeves among PIDW’s myriad of issues was how the classification scheme was all over the place…
And it’s all because Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky said so! Whether it was logical or not didn’t matter, the words of that hack of a writer had formed this world and its very foundations.

Shen Qingqiu only had to formulate the truth into something which didn’t make him seem like a nutcase…

The immortal master argued, “And who can fault the wolf for its teeth? Is it not how the heavens have willed wolves to be?”

Shen Yuan cringed at his own words. He had been an atheist in his past life. It was an easier pill to swallow then the notion that a god would regularly burden babies with terminal illnesses. What a cruel joke it was – to be born into the world, only to suffer and then leave it after knowing nothing but pain.

He himself had long been believed to be one such baby. When he unexpectedly made a shaky recovery from the worst of it, he didn’t praise the heavens which had saddled him with this frail disposition in the first place; he thanked the doctors who held back their pee for like a dozen hours to operate on him and the nurses who consoled him in the night, when he wept in pain.

Now transmigrated into this world, his views had changed and his knowledge expanded; although he wouldn’t call it change for the better. Now he was certain divinity existed – in the most cruel and idiotic way possible. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky and the System evidently possessed godlike powers – only to use it to torture an innocent Luo Binghe. Now that Shen Yuan thought about it, the result was similar to his old world. He just had seen the supernatural shit happen with his own eyes, so he didn’t only believe, but knew.

Shen Qingqiu continued despite his revulsion at the ‘heavenly’ presence which he knew was lurking inside his own mind right now – and judging his every word to be rated with despotism later.  

“Additionally, there is more to the development of an individual than nature. Wild and hungry wolves might see humans as prey, but a pup raised by humans will know better than to bite the hand which fed it.

Demon culture is fundamentally different from the one we humans are used to. What constitutes a crime in this realm, might not be considered as such in the other realm. So, when it comes to grapples between the races, they might just originate from different values or misunderstandings.

Binghe grew up in this world as human child. He should know very well how to avoid these conflicts.

Perhaps, Binghe could even find new and fruitful applications for these ‘fangs’ of his.

…Anyway, Binghe is different from the other demons. Binghe is a good–“

Shen Qingqiu stopped himself just in time before he could end his sentence with ‘boy’. He was not going to kick the protagonist’s face any more than he already had tonight.

Thus, the master finished, “-disciple. And yet human – in heart and mind, if not entirely in body.”

Luo Binghe tightened his arms around the older man and pressed himself closer to his Shizun, if such a thing was even possible. The master heard the softest peep of his student, which could almost be interpreted as assent with the way Shen Qingqiu felt Luo Binghe nod against his collar bone.

Luo Binghe had grown a lot in the last three years and was about as tall as Shen Qingqiu now – and more muscular. If Shen Qingqiu had been a normal human, this amount of pressure would probably have hurt.

However, he was not a normal human; not in this body of an immortal cultivator at least. Thus, the least he could do was to be a boulder for Binghe’s emotions to crash against, absorbing some of the impact and pain in his student’s stead.
Shen Qingqiu had been the one to stir up the waves in the first place after all.

He squeezed his disciple right back until their hug turned almost suffocating. Despite all the exerted force in their tenacious embrace, Shen Qingqiu felt the broad back relax under his slender, pale fingers.

Chapter Text

It’s been a while, but Binghe’s protagonist arms didn’t even hint at tiring – neither emotionally nor physically – from the ridiculously tight hug.
The transmigrator didn’t want Binghe to feel bad but he was also fucking tired. Now that the adrenaline subsided, his own exhaustion caught up with Shen Qingqiu. He wanted to crawl into bed and cry as well.

He was about to say something and end this fiasco of an evening sooner rather than later, but Binghe piped up before he had a chance to do so.

Comforted by soft words and his body engulfed in warmth, Luo Binghe couldn’t help but hope. He proposed his blooming aspirations, “Perhaps, if we only explained my situation, the other sect masters would understand…? Shizun did, after all.”

Now it was Shen Qingqiu’s turn to tense up. As with everything else concerning his Shizun, it didn’t go unnoticed by Binghe. He knew that couldn’t bode well and already felt his heart sink before his master opened his mouth.

Even though Shen Qingqiu had cursed his script as a stupid piece of shit only half an hour ago, he was now clutching to it in relief again. This was a very delicate question, something he could have easily fucked up if he had been forced to improvise again.

Shen Qingqiu tried to sound as dignified as possible with a sticky disciple literally hanging onto him. Binghe was practically buried in the crook of Shen Qingqiu’s neck and he refused to let up the pressure of their embrace even when it became evident that his teacher wanted to talk again. His fluffy curls were smooshed against the bare neck, tickling his teacher’s chin and throat, which the older man ignored to the best of his abilities.

The OG’s infamous aloofness prevailed against all present handicaps and Shen Qingqiu managed to appear somewhat stately despite being hugged fiercer than a safety blanket.

“This master doesn’t doubt that there are other people who will be able to recognize the good in Binghe.”
Shen Qingqiu knew Ning Yingying would still want to marry Luo Binghe in any case. Even Liu Mingyang will eventually come around to accept a demon in her bed despite being a model cultivator in every other aspect. (Although they didn’t have their joint hatred for Shen Qingqiu to bond over this time…probably…he was sure it’d sort itself out somehow, later.)

“But Binghe has to try and view the situation from the point of an outsider.

The sect masters are all formidable cultivators; meaning they have lived and cultivated for a long time now. After decades or even centuries on this earth, one becomes rich in experience.

Mortal men are weak, so they often beseech us to help them when they’re in danger. As it happens, that danger often involves other races or species. In other words, they’re regularly exposed to the worst behavior of demonkind, much more so than an average human. On the other hand, peaceful co-existence is never brought to their attention because their aid is unnecessary in those rare cases.

Even if many quarrels between the races can be explained by a different culture, it’s insufficient to serve as an excuse.

For example, there are demon tribes which implemented raiding and hunting of humans into their traditions. A youth from the Lietou tribe will not be recognized as adult by his village until he has gathered at least four different kinds of human heads for his coming-of-age ceremony.
While it is understandable why a demon would follow tradition to become a respected member of his own society, it is no less understandable how the targeted humans would still begrudge the demon for murder.

This kind of practice is no outlier – nor do they see any fault in it. Human flesh is still considered a delicacy in large swaths of the demon realm, so many demons regard humans similar to how we view cattle.

Senior cultivators would be understandably suspect of Binghe’s goodwill when their long years of practice has made them learn what demons are capable and prone of doing. Even if Binghe is special, can one drop of color paint an ocean of blackened experiences?”

Shen Qingqiu had planned to pass the buck of Binghe’s anger to the rest of the human cultivation world from the start, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel bad about it. Just a little though, because what blame Shen Qingqiu laid on their doorstep wasn’t untrue and Bingge had killed a bunch of them even without Shen Qingqiu’s blame game. He had even gone as far as burning down Cang Qiong mountain.
Shen Yuan wasn’t enough of a martyr to endanger his own skin, but he was helping them as much as he could right now! Maybe this Binghe would be more understanding of side characters after Shen Qingqiu’s attempt at arguing some mitigating circumstances for the other cultivators.

The hands around Shen Qingqiu’s hips twitched and clutched the silk further in their grip before Luo Binghe questioned, “But if that kind of barbaric practice is so widely ingrained in their culture, wouldn’t it make demons evil after all?”

Shen Qingqiu felt like ripping his hair out. There was a limit to how much he could reasonably say to fill in Airplane-juju’s numerous plot holes. His own creativity only spanned so far – it wasn’t enough to even out the canyon of inconsistencies. Whenever he managed to stretch an excuse over a hole, it’d just turn out that he ripped a previous makeshift covering in the process.

He was back to hating his script. Even if you gave him a lifetime to ponder, he couldn’t possibly come up with an appropriate answer to everything that went wrong with PIDW.
To start with, he wasn’t equipped to give sensible commentaries on any kind of social situation! He was a shut-in (or had been for most of his life), not a philosopher!

He didn’t know how to answer, but he couldn’t just ignore Binghe. All that can save him from losing his face right now is spouting bullshit so vague, it could be interpreted anyway you liked but still sounded halfway sophisticated.

“Ah, Binghe. This disciple’s question is heavy in weight but lacks shape. What does Binghe consider to be ‘evil’? It can be construed in endless ways, for it is in the eye of the beholder. To keep his heart light and his mind clear, Binghe needs to evaluate and come to his own conclusions. Binghe’s definition will certainly differ from this master’s or the other sect master’s.”

Binghe felt stumped – he was certain Shen Qingqiu had used the word ‘evil’ before, so why was he only now starting to question him on the meaning of it? He implored, “Shizun, please guide this obtuse disciple with your wisdom! I fear my own judgement to be faulty. And how could Shizun’s definition not be the correct one? Shizun has always been steadfast in his decisions, whether it was exorcising or showing mercy.

…But I-I just don’t know what to think anymore...”

Figures, the protagonist wouldn’t be satisfied with such a lame tergiversation. Fuck him for being transmigrated into a scum villain who coincidentally was a famous demon slayer – a surprisingly awful combination when the protagonist of the story happens to be part demon.

He really needed to steer the conversation back to less dangerous waters. The more he talks, the higher the chances the inconveniently smart protagonist will notice how Shen Qingqiu is stumbling from one half-covered plot hole into the next.

Shen Qingqiu remained silent for several seconds before he conceded, “This teacher can’t deny that most demons are what he himself would consider ‘evil’. If this were not the case, this master couldn’t be an exorcist in good conscience.
Despite this experience I still refuse to generalize a whole race out of my own principles. However, this principle is only worthwhile in the rare special cases like Binghe. It’s arguable whether this principle is useless when the benefit of doubt is spent in vain in almost all cases.   

Perhaps it is not so unreasonable to condemn a group for what the vast majority is prone of doing – at the very least, it can’t be called unpractical.

And here lies a crux of this world. Concepts such as good and bad are easily overthrown by reality. No matter whether the preconceived notion is right or wrong; one can’t deny that the unfavorable opinion towards demons is very widespread. Because in the end, we still live in the human realm. Thus, the rules of this realm apply regardless of whether they’re suited for a half-demon like Binghe.”

There, that should be good enough of a segue back to canon plot, right? 

Hopefully, these improvised platitudes will also convey two important messages. First, cannon fodder are programmed to oppose the protagonist. That’s just the shitty society Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky created. He's the one who deserves the hate!
Second, even the protagonist needs to adept to the general order of the world. Although the System has stated that the one rule to surpass them all is that the protagonist can’t die – that doesn’t mean Binghe couldn’t suffer. His overly cruel childhood had very much proven this point. As much as Shen Qingqiu wanted Binghe to stay a white lotus, he couldn’t raise Binghe into a pacifist either. The boy would never survive among demons or politicians if he was.

“This master lauds Binghe for his scholarly desire to ponder these philosophical questions. But right now, we have more pressing matters. We’ll need to leave for the Immortal Alliance Conference the day after tomorrow. All major sects will be gathered there and the disciple’s will be closely monitored during the event.”

Binghe stirred, catching on quickly with his unfairly astute protagonist brain, “Does Shizun think it safer for this disciple to not participate?”

Shen Qingqiu almost sighed in relief. They were finally back on the well-trodden track of stereotypical Xianxia plot, which was significantly easier to handle since it followed a formula and tropes.
Shen Qingqiu returned to his mess of script because he had nothing else to go on – A known mess in familiar territory was still better than unpredictable chaos.

He pretended to rethink Binghe’s question before he answered, “No. You are poised to become the new head disciple and the tournament would have been an ideal opportunity to prove yourself. It would be very suspicious for Binghe to not participate.”

Officially, Ming Fan was still the head disciple of Qing Jing peak since he eclipsed Luo Binghe in seniority and had always been a good disciple. All his tasks were done satisfactory and there wasn’t anything to complain about. However, the protagonist halo ensured that whatever Luo Binghe did, he was not only good at but excellent if not the very best – and a workaholic. Over time he had slowly leeched off most tasks normally assigned to the head disciple, even though Shen Qingqiu didn’t reward him for working his fingers to the bone. (Well, he did thank him after he was done and gave occasional praise, but that was just basic manners.)
The Immortal Alliance Conference was created precisely for such situations. It gave exemplary, but low-ranked students the opportunity to show off in a regulated and public manner, which would warrant them an official rise in rank.

“But…you need to be extra careful. There will be spiritual eagles everywhere to broadcast the actions of the disciples to the sect masters. Also, the tournament will be held inside a strong barrier, which this teacher isn’t allowed to enter.”

Familiar bitterness grounded the half demon against the budding doubts. He had to hide away his blood after all.
A mistake would immediately expose him to a gathered assortment of the strongest cultivators of this world and Shizun wouldn’t be able to help him even if Binghe wanted him to.

Squished against his teacher as he was, Shen Qingqiu felt his disciple’s slightly shaky intake of air. Binghe’s tension seeped his words, “This disciple understands…This disciple won’t bring any shame to Shizun.”

Shen Yuan had never been the competitive type, so he had never expected anything like that from his students either. Getting a participation trophy was too embarrassing, but he could admit that the sentiment was agreeable.
He pat Binghe some more on the head as he consoled, “As long as Binghe gives his best efforts, there’s nothing Binghe could do that would be considered shameful.”

There was a beat of silence and Shen Qingqiu almost believed this to be the end of the issue.

Self-deprecation laced Binghe’s words more so than accusation when he challenged at last, “Perhaps there is nothing I can do, that will bring shame. The issue lies in the problem how I can’t do anything against my shame, it is how I am after all.”

Luo Binghe closed his eyes and soaked up more of the warmth afforded to him only now. Before Shen Qingqiu could even try to parse his words, Binghe helpfully added, “Thanking Shizun for his guidance. There really is no guilt to be found in something which one couldn’t influence in the first place.
However, as with lacking talent or a homely face, shame requires no input from the concerned person to exist. Alas, this disciple would bring shame not only on Shizun, but the whole Qiong Cang mountain, if his heritage became public knowledge.”
Luo Binghe couldn’t help but think of Liu Qingge and how much the man would disdain him if he knew – more so than he already does. Bai Zhan’s peak lord was never one to hide his misgivings, of which he had a lot regarding demonkind (and Shen Qingqiu’s soft teaching methods). Liu Qingge treated sapient demons the same as any beast he hunted, including taking occasional trophies.

Shen Qingqiu facepalmed himself mentally, when he realized they had talked past each other. But not all was yet lost. He could use his meta-knowledge to guide Binghe on the path which he was destined to follow anyway – he wouldn’t even change the plot, just give himself a sagely look by pretending to predict the future.

Shen Qingqiu flourished his words with a somber tone. “The old sect masters would surely be loath to part with their preconceived beliefs, which – to be fair – had held up for all their long lives so far. Acceptance won’t come easy to them and their reception of Binghe will be…unwelcoming to say the least... However, this master believes Binghe is full of potential and capable of great things. His demon blood, too, could open up new, previously unthinkable possibilities.
If Binghe just showed them; if Binghe only became strong enough – they’d be forced to acknowledge him.”

After Bingge literally burned down Cang Qiong, which wasn’t just his old home but also the most powerful cultivation sect, the remaining sects quickly got in line to grovel at the protagonist’s feet.

Shen Qingqiu droned on, “For power can manifest in both plains; both as concept and in reality. Even if their hearts are obstinate and undiscerning, their knees will bend under enough weight.”

In awe Binghe asked, “And Shizun truly believes this disciple could be capable of accomplishing such a feat?”

Shen Qingqiu didn’t hesitate to say, “Yes.”

The protagonist was destined to rule over both the human and the demon realm after all.

But for that, he first had to survive the Endless Abyss, so that he may leave with hardened skill and his golden finger, Xin Mo.

After a fraction of a pause Shen Qingqiu added, “However, it won’t be easy. The path to power is paved with pain and hardships – torture perhaps even. But if Binghe attained such strength, no one would dare to challenge him anymore. Is Binghe willing to sacrifice and endure what is necessary to become strong?”

Shizun talked with such confidence in Binghe’s abilities; how could he not feel invigorated and strive to fulfill these expectations? Fierce determination and pride swelled in his chest again to corrode his doubts. The fire which had almost smoldered out to but a glimmer, was reignited and he felt himself burn with it.
Binghe’s eyebrows dipped down, slightly overshadowing his black eyes, dark as a bottomless well but glinting with determination. His jaw and intentions were set, his new resolve as unyielding as stone. The protagonist vowed, “This one does not fear pain nor hardships. I only wish to be able to protect those who are dear to me.”

Shen Qingqiu felt himself relax at Binghe’s fierce affirmation.
‘Yes, this is how it should – must – be’, the transmigrator reasoned, ‘You’ll need that power to attract/defend your harem of three thousand flowers. What I’m doing is only for your own good…’

Now that Shen Qingqiu could convince not only Binghe, but also himself of that rationale, he really felt in need of his bed. He was so tired.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t be bothered with anything more than a curt, but polite, “Very well. Then this disciple should go to bed now and rest to gather his strength.”

Binghe reluctantly let go of his Shizun at the apparent dismissal. Of course, this couldn’t last. Alas, he shouldn’t impose more on his master even if he desperately wanted to.

He forced his calloused fingers to unhand his master and slowly peeled himself from the warm embrace. Cool air touched the parts which had been languishing in Shen Qingqiu’s body heat and Luo Binghe shivered. It was late spring, so it should have been pleasantly warm. But all he could perceive was the loss of apparent warmth against his own craving skin.
He reprimanded himself to pull himself together after he had burst so unsightly at the seams and taken up so much of his master’s time.

 He scooted a bit backwards with some last words of gratitude on his tongue before he intended to go back to his room.

But now that he wasn’t pressed against his master anymore, he could actually look at him. Binghe’s face lit up again, but this time in embarrassment.
His tears had left a huge dark stain on Shen Qingqiu’s left shoulder. His master’s clothes were askew and crinkled, especially around his waist. The creases there were pronounced enough one could easily surmise where exactly Binghe had fisted the silk in his attempt to hold Shen Qingqiu in his life.

He wanted to die again; but this time out of mortification.

Binghe stuttered and threw himself to the floor again, “T-This l-lowly one is so sorry. He has dirtied Shizun. That’s unacceptable. I must be punished!”

Shen Yuan deadpanned at the – yet again?! – kneeling body before him. On the outside, Shen Qingqiu’s elegant face only turned blank.

Had Binghe always been this dramatic or was this just the emotional fatigue leaking through both of them?
Shen Qingqiu tugged wordlessly, but lightly at the youth’s shoulder to coax him into an upright position again.  

The wet spot on Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder was rapidly cooling down, but he hadn’t even noticed anything until Binghe mentioned it. While he wasn’t a fan of getting other people’s bodily fluids on him, that seemed like a laughably small price to pay to give Binghe a little comfort.

Although he had to admit he was rather glad the protagonist halo made Binghe cry more like a movie star than a human. People in movies only shed few droplets of tears which trickle a thin, graceful line down their faces. No swelling, no snot, no humanity. Their beauty stayed unbroken for the fans to fawn over; their voice melodious and only a little thick so the microphones could still pick up on their lines.

Binghe’s eyes were red rimmed and overflowing with tears, but that only made his eyes look big and shiny. He sniffled a little bit. His face was slightly puffy because he had been crying for quite a while now, but that had a similar effect as baby fat – it made him look cute and pitiable.

Real people crying was an ugly, gross thing. Tears swamp our vision and eyes until they become bloodshot and swollen. Sobs rip through our throat until it hurts, breaking our voice and dignity in the process. Snot flows in rivers and dribbles down in inviscid strings if we don’t constantly blow our nose. If we cry long enough (which Binghe definitely had by now!), it leaves an undignified, chapped spot under the nose because snot is very salty and dries out skin.

Shen Qingqiu really just wanted to dismiss the non-issue for what it was, so he could sink into his own sheets and guilt.

But Binghe wouldn’t even budge from the floor. His forehead was pressed against the bamboo mats until Shen Qingqiu stroked his back a few more times to sooth the skittish drama queen.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t stay annoyed at his disciple though. Not when Binghe finally sat up again and there was genuine misery and tear tracks rooted in this peerlessly beautiful face.
No, he could feel nothing but pity and guilt at such an unfairly marred face.

Binghe sniffled with too glossy eyes, “This disciple is useless. Please let him make amends for what he has blemished.” He still managed to hold back his tears, but it looked like a losing battle. His soft lips were bitten raw from his previous stress-induced gnawing. They bloomed red from the abuse not unsimilar to the flush that was still permeating his cheeks.

Why did it feel like Shen Qingqiu was now being guilted into punishing Binghe by Binghe himself??

Shen Qingqiu instinctively grabbed the impassive OG’s mask to put it back on, so that it wouldn’t become apparent how perplexed he really was. “Very well. Then Binghe shall take responsibility and clean what he has stained. Wash this master’s clothing and you will be forgiven.”

Binghe’s mortification gave away to confusion. The red-rimmed, dewy eyes shadowed by long lashes blinked several times in confusion. Luo Binghe weakly demurred, “But Shizun, this disciple already does your laundry.”

Shen Qingqiu didn’t deadpan; this body was much too lofty for that. His face as well as his voice were blank – but in a very dignified way – when he replied, “This teacher knows. That’s why this is the perfect ‘punishment’.”

Binghe seemed ready to protest in earnest when Shen Qingqiu put his hand on the soft locks again. He let the OG’s mask crack to let a small, indulgent smile peek through.

“This disciple is bothered much more by this than this teacher.

Binghe’s suffered more than enough already.”

Shen Qingqiu really meant that.

New tears welled up in Binghe’s eyes and began to flow freely. Shen Qingqiu had to sigh inwardly. What should have dried up after the first cruelty of the OG, was now an endless wellspring in the presence of Shen Yuan.

Shen Qingqiu was already mourning inside his head. This is by far not the end of Binghe’s suffering. He’ll personally give Binghe something to cry about in two days. This thought disgusted him more than any amount of snot could.

The teacher didn’t let his own turmoil show and remarked dryly, “ ’Atonement’ can wait until tomorrow. I’ll leave your ‘punishment’ in the laundry basket. Now go to sleep.”

Binghe’s lips twitched even to his own surprise. The river of tears trickled into slow, picturesque creeks accentuating and sliding down his perfect cheek bones. Binghe sheepishly muttered, “Now Shizun is only teasing me…”

Shit, there goes Shen Yuan’s habit of overplaying his worries with humor. This was totally OOC. But it was super hard to stay in-character when you’re stressed out of your mind! He was too tired. How often has he thought that by now?
He was tempted to quote the despicable Shitem ‘important things had to be said three times!’. But in reality, he just ran out of fucks to give about whether he was repetitive; be it for a good reason or not.

He couldn’t find it in himself to put on the appropriate, aloof and refined immortal master front right now.

Hadn’t Shen Qingqiu already done enough? He deserved a break.

Additionally, there was an odd, tight feeling in his chest when Shen Qingqiu gazed at the weepy protagonist. It was a little uncomfortable and distracting. He couldn’t quite place it.

Maybe it was just pity.
Maybe it was his body telling him to fucking rest – if Shen Qingqiu hadn’t been a cultivator, he might have been worried he was experiencing early symptoms of a heart attack or something. (Alright, maybe the fatigue made Shen Qingqiu a bit of a drama queen as well.)
Or maybe it was a foreboding dissonance? The transmigrator really couldn’t imagine this pouty crybaby to become the blackened stallion protagonist of PIDW.

Had Shen Yuan accidentally ruined one of the very few good things in PIDW – the cool protagonist? Although it was unfair to compare his Binghe to the shitwreck that was the original web novel. The kind of ruin the protagonist and the rest of the novel were subjected to were entirely different issues.

PIDW’s originally intriguing world and decent story line had been discarded in favor of blatant, unnecessary fan-service and vapid pandering. The novel had been repeatedly stabbed by the sell-out author to bleed quality in exchange for money until all that was left was a bloated corpse of a B-tier male power fantasy.

This Luo Binghe here was literally a three-dimensional character, who struggled with trauma, social strife and his own racial identity. His fucked up mental state might even be fairly interesting to read about right now.
…yes, this was still character ‘development’. Nothing Shen Yuan conjured could be worse than what the idiot god, Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had originally done. That’s why he was transmigrated here after all – to make this a better story. Therefore, wasn’t Shen Yuan just fulfilling his life’s goal? …No, it’s this life’s goal. This isn’t his life. He’s just playing a role in the body of someone else.

For a moment he wondered what the OG would do if he were still here with a free will.
From what he has heard and read about Shen Qingqiu, the original inhabitant of this body might have been willing to die out of pure spite – preferring to die rather than to help someone he hated (whether that hated one would be Luo Binghe or the System, Shen Yuan couldn’t tell). In any case, Shen Yuan wasn’t that bitter or crazy yet.

It might not be his life, but it’s still a life and he desperately wanted to cling to that. Sue him; he wanted to live!

Aiyah, he was too tired for this kind of existential dread.

The protagonist’s eyes were still leaky and glistening as he gazed upon his master. How could the kid still stare at him with stars in his eyes like Shen Qingqiu was his moon or some other poetic baloney?

The hand which had been patting Binghe’s head so lightly before became decidedly rougher, albeit not enough to be considered painful. Running his hand through the locks earlier had already disheveled Binghe’s simple hairdo of a pony tail. Now Shen Qingqiu ruined it even further by purposefully mussing up the soft strands with an abandon, which could only be explained by mild impatience and a sore lack of fucks to give for appropriateness or character consistency.

Shen Yuan picked up the pieces of the OG’s mask and glued them together for an aloof expression, which was totally incongruent to his action of hair tousling.
He really wanted to get rid of this whole charade – the scum villain role, his script, this faked poise. But none of this was Binghe’s fault, so Shen Qingqiu resisted the urge to usher his disciple out of his room. However, he couldn’t entirely suppress the dry undertone as he lectured, “…consider it part of your ‘punishment’ ”.

Luo Binghe’s mortification melted into abashed embarrassment. He leaned into the slender fingers in his hair and felt woefully disappointed when they stopped after a few seconds. Luo Binghe accepted his ‘punishment’ without further comment and excused himself with red tipped ears.

When Binghe got to his little side room, he still felt the ghost of usually tender fingers play with his hair with such intensity. It made a light, but pleasant shiver run up his spine at the recent memory. He couldn’t help but wonder if more force would feel even better. What would it feel like if Shizun grabbed fistfuls of his black strands and pulled?
It was like he had gotten a whiff of something delicious, yet elusive. Now he was starving, desperate for a taste.

However, when he touched his bed, he all but collapsed. There was so much on Luo Binghe’s mind, but he was emotionally drained. Also, there was still a matter to be settled, which he could only do when he was asleep.

He closed his eyes and drifted off in no time.  

Chapter Text

Luo Binghe willed his dream to adept and obey his demands. Slowly nothingness manifested into invisible confines until his imagination took shape.

There was no sun nor sky. Everything was barebones, even more so than usual. He generally wasn’t fond of unnecessary decoration and today, he was just too impatient.

Luo Binghe stood on a rough, dirt ground in his plain Qing Jing peak uniform used for training. An undefined light source seemingly came from everywhere and nowhere to cast cold white light on the yellowed, arid earth. Even the horizon was missing – the landscape simply blended into the air above it in an indistinct muddle, which got blurrier the further away it got from Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe was a green blotch on a fleck of blurry space, floating in the haze of his subconsciousness. He was the dreamer and thus, the natural center of this transient world. Everything and nothingness gravitated towards him.

As did his dream teacher, who approached by himself soon after he had noticed the presence of the sleeper. Meng Mo appeared as an older gentleman with well kempt long beard and a perfectly styled shock of grey hair, shimmering with a silvery gloss. Just like every night in the last two years, he chose to project himself in refined black robes embroided with golden thread.

Today too, the ancient demon was met with a neutral expression showing neither happiness nor disrespect on the young, handsome face. Yet what didn’t show on the dreamer’s person, was displayed in plain sight in the hastily put together surroundings – they too, were a part of him after all.

A dreamscape mirrored the sleeper’s emotions and participants were exposed to them in an surrealistic, yet very candid way. In a dream, the tension in the air could literally become palpable. Luo Binghe’s stoic front meant absolutely nothing when the dream demon could feel the ground pulse with anxious energy, although he had no idea why that was.

Luo Binghe blocked the dream demon from entering his consciousness during waking hours and Meng Mo let him without ever testing the barrier. He had no interest in the mundane daily life of a human nor did he enjoy suffering the obnoxious infatuation of a teenage boy whenever he was in the same room as Shen Qingqiu. The ancient demon preferred to sequester himself away in a little corner of the boy’s mind to meditate and cultivate in order to regain some of his strength back.

The dream demon raised an eyebrow and prompted the student to elaborate the turbulence in this realm, “Well?”

Since the demon had been as curt as this, Luo Binghe forewent most basic politeness as well and started straight into his grievances. He summarized the situation for the older demon, since he was unwilling to let the other see his memories and tears.

Shen Qingqiu had found out about his demon blood, yet was generous enough to forgive Luo Binghe and even offered him further support. However, Luo Binghe stressed that didn’t excuse Meng Mo from breaking his promise to the half demon.

Luo Binghe only became the host for the dream demon, in order for the demon to teach him how to control his demonic qi. When they met, the dream demon had claimed it was almost entirely suppressed, but the seal was degrading with time and under the pressure of Luo Binghe’s growth in cultivation.

Meng Mo had taught him a technique to suppress his qi in preparation for the inevitable breakdown of the seal. But the source of qi was immense and Luo Binghe was still lacking fine control, so for now Meng Mo had prepared a qi masquerading technique just in case. Yet whatever resided in Luo Binghe, it was imposing enough that even the self-proclaimed master of dreams wasn’t confident in his ability to suppress it entirely without the seal.
The Elder had been explicit about his misgivings but also assured he’d at least warn Binghe in time, if the seal showed signs of premature deterioration – which wasn’t the case right now.

Meng Mo stared at the younger man only to see nothing out of the ordinary. Everything looked and felt normal. Except for his outlandish tale, of course. Meng Mo almost believed it to be an absurd joke. He pointed out that this joke was lukewarm at best, since the opposite applied. He boasted how it’s only because of such refined and unparalleled mastery over qi with which Meng Mo can perceive the demonic power within Luo Binghe in the first place. Anyone else could only be fooled by the combined efforts of the seal and Meng Mo’s qi concealing technique.
But Luo Binghe insisted with unsubtle accusation in his voice. The Elder felt his pride receive a critical hit at being berated by what was little more than a child to him.

With an upturned nose, Meng Mo declared, “Hmpf. Shen Qingqiu must have lied and found out some other way; probably by a verbal slip from you.”

He couldn’t even get to the absurd part where the boy claimed the ‘righteous’ immortal master was content to keep a demon as disciple when the dreamscape shuddered violently.
The empty, sandy area flickered as an ethereal veil sprung forth from the fallow ground and tinged the emptiness of the incomplete dream in shades of aggressive carmine. The already blurry outlines of the surroundings worsened until they turned into opaque smears. The air turned viscous until every breath was burdened with friction as it scraped its way into and out of lungs.

The dream demon felt the sleeper’s rage snake around his body like the very world was trying to smother him.

Luo Binghe only narrowed his eyes. His steady voice and stony expression beguiled the way the minimalistic background of the dreamscape trembled under the tension. The half demon warned, “Shizun is not a liar. Do not dare to insult him. I will not stand for it.”

Meng Mo was shocked to silence. There was a short-lived moment of panic. Meng Mo’s eyes widened slightly and Binghe stared back, unabashed and defiant.  

Once the moment passed, a bark of baleful laughter escaped the demon – half in mock, half in self-deprecation at his own momentary lapse of emotion.

The old demon scoffed, “Finally acting your race, huh?”

It fascinated him how stark of a contrast this reaction was to Luo Binghe’s usual placid self. Yet here the half demon was looking ready to dream up an axe and use it to lop off Meng Mo’s head because of a snide remark directed at Shen Qingqiu.

Too bad for the boy that this head was only a projection of the dream demon. Albeit Meng Mo perceived Luo Binghe’s (subconscious?) attempt at full-body strangulation, it was crude and he could wiggle his way out of it if he tried.

Sure, the host could try and reject him, but that wouldn’t really hurt Meng Mo. It’d be a pain in the ass to hold onto the body when there was resistance – and an even bigger pain to search for another suitable vessel. And that was the true problem here. Not Luo Binghe himself, but the lack of alternatives threatened Meng Mo.

Luo Binghe was exceptionally talented and learned the arcane art of dream manipulation at an almost frightening pace, but there was only so much one could learn in less than three years. Meng Mo had centuries of experience. No matter how much the Junior denied him the proper respect, Meng Mo was still the master and Luo Binghe the disciple. Luo Binghe himself couldn’t damage Meng Mo unless the boy tried to suicide.

The dream demon should be too amused to be offended by what turned out to be an empty threat.  Yet the chip on his ego was rough and irritating.  

The Elder jeered, “I suppose, when your beloved Shizun ‘welcomes’ your demon nature, you can now as well, huh?”

Meng Mo still had a hard time believing the Xiu Ya sword would accept a demon as his disciple. However, he doubted Shen Qingqiu was planning on killing his host – the peak lord already had many opportunities to do so, if he had wished for it.
Whatever this was, he kind of liked the direction this was going. If it somehow helped the half demon lose his useless restraints and unfettered his demonic powers, then Meng Mo might just play along.

Luo Binghe was about to retort that Meng Mo was ridiculous to claim this as demonic behavior, until he finally realized, he was actually clamping down on the other man. It was like noticing a tear in ones robes after clutching them too hard. A moment after it hit him, he made an effort to loosen his grip, albeit he didn’t entirely let go.

Luo Binghe hesitated as the meaning of Meng Mo’s words and his own actions sunk in. He could hear the doubt and derision in the incorporeal voice, but the words might hold a kernel of truth. Even if he hadn’t really acted on it yet, denying his desire for violence was more than pointless when the other demon could literally feel his emotions. He had to admit, this sudden aggression was very uncharacteristic of his usual self and wondered how much his demonic blood already influenced him.

If Meng Mo had commented anything similar the day before, Luo Binghe’s first, knee-jerk reaction would have been to feel shame. Yet now, the shame failed to materialize. Instead he thought about how Shizun told him not to feel guilt or shame for it. He wasn’t sure how to judge his own behavior anymore.

Once he enrolled in Qing Jing peak and learned martial arts, he was taught about equanimity and how it was one of the core tenets of (human) cultivation. So now that he could finally defend himself from bullies, he wasn’t supposed to ‘rise to the bait of lesser men’ but rather ‘let go of an unproductive ego’.
It was very frustrating for the longest time. He had tried to tell himself Ming Fan and his accomplices were doing all these horrible things only to test him and toughen him up in the process. It was hard to believe when they were enjoying his torment so obviously…

But at least he knew Shizun had meant well since his master never smiled or laughed at him, when he used to deal out his seemingly groundless disciplinary actions. On top of that, a master-student relationship was sacred and it was Shizun’s right to decide how to teach his disciples. His disciples were to accept any of the treatments he saw fit.

Now that someone else was besmirching his master, he was struggled at how he was supposed to both honor his master but also remain calm.

In the end what diminished Luo Binghe’s bloodthirst was not exercised composure but confusion and inner conflict.

As his fury lost its steam, so did the volatility of the dreamscape. The quivers ebbed away until the oppressive haze dissipated and the invisible walls stabilized once more. The world returned to its barren, but neutral disposition with a slight breeze kicking up the dust from the fallow ground.

Luo Binghe’s tentativeness didn’t rob him from his ready wit and he pointed out, “Didn’t this Elder just say that the demonic presence is well suppressed within this one? If such a small stirring of emotions is enough to reveal this Junior’s heritage, then this one either has to doubt Meng Mo’s competency or his honesty.”

The dream demon’s face twisted in rage and now Luo Binghe in turn, could feel it spreading inside his mind. How odd and foreign to have a stranger’s emotion permeate your thoughts. But the anger of the demon was met head-on with the indignation Luo Binghe still felt in Shen Qingqiu’s stead.

Meng Mo shot back, “Insolent! This Elder’s competency is beyond reproach. This Junior’s demonic qi is suppressed, but apparently so is his reason! A limp character can be cured without demonic qi just fine! But there is a distinct line between not being a pushover and reckless cockiness.”

To drive his point home, the dream demon flicked his wrist and just like that, he freed himself from the invisible pressure, which had born down on him previously. For the dreamer it felt like his hand had been swat away. Although Luo Binghe tried to take ahold of Meng Mo again, he couldn’t grasp the presence of the other anymore. It was like trying to seize water and having it slip through your fingers. After a few failed attempts, the dreamer had to admit to himself, control over his own dream was merely granted to him and not something he could forcibly seize against Meng Mo’s will.

The realization was sombering and the mood shifted inside the imaginary realm once more. The last vestiges of aggression wilted into sullen acceptance.

Meng Mo’s own temper calmed at his Junior’s unspoken, but felt concession. The satisfaction and pride at reminding the youngster of his place soothed his bruised ego. He was still a teacher after all, so it was only befitting for him to lecture, “To know one’s worth is imperial – both in defence and deference. Tolerate not the arrogance of your lesser, but do not be naïve enough to defy those who you can’t prevail against – unless you’re willing to lose.”

Luo Binghe recognized the truth in the lesson, yet for him there’d only ever be Shen Qingqiu as his true teacher. Meng Mo’s shameless act of pretending to be his master has helped Luo Binghe understand how to concile both principles of cultivation.

Honoring his master must come before equanimity. Meng Mo’s outburst reminded the half demon how almost all cultivators would throw their serenity out of the window as soon as they felt their pride being scraped anyway. So if Luo Binghe was to defend his master’s honor, it was more than justified in his eyes.

Even if this is a dream, the reality was that Luo Binghe couldn’t lay a finger on Meng Mo – at least not yet. Equanimity proved its worth, when the proper course of action was barred. After all, his rage had even taken shape but it was entirely fruitless.

However, if he played demure, he could utilize further lessons from Meng Mo until his dream manipulation surpassed the older demon’s skills one day. Until then, he wouldn’t forget this slight.

The disciple responded with excessive deference, “This humble Junior thanks Elder Meng Mo for reminding him of Shizun’s teachings. This Junior belatedly recognizes how he is standing inside the dream realm. Hence, one must bow to the undisputed prowess of the dream master.” ‘- even if the dream master is the one in the wrong’, he finished in the privacy of his thoughts.

Meng Mo scrutinized the suddenly much too soft expression on the boy’s face. The dream demon narrowed his eyes at the student, who bat his lashes slowly back at him. It was too drastic a change of heart. It couldn’t be anything but deliberate. The words were right, but the submissive tone so over the top, it made a volte-face from deferential to derisive.

The master wanted to punish the student for underhandedly defying him, but he also didn’t want to encourage him to actually be so damn placid all the time.

So he answered with his own brand of mock, “This Elder must confess, he’s pleasantly surprised for Shen Qingqiu to be wise enough to recognize the most basic of rules.”

The sweet mask was rigid on the other’s face, but the Elder could feel the world twitch in irritation. It subsided quickly enough, so Meng Mo supposed Luo Binghe was suppressing his reaction.

‘At least he now knows better than to oppose me. Good, let this be a lesson for him’, Meng Mo thought, ‘I’ll play along with whatever Shen Qingqiu has planned for now since this could serve me well.’

He continued with the farce both of them knew they were acting out. “Power is all. If you have the power to make it happen and maintain, you have the right to do it. This Junior would do well to memorize this simple truth and engrave it into his heart and everyday life.”

Meng Mo schooled an almost bored expression on his face when he added the following words like an after-thought, “Even someone like Shen Qingqiu can recognize your remarkable potential.”

Luo Binghe tasted blood as he bit through his cheek. But his expression remained saccharine, albeit a little too stiff, despite the revolting insult of Meng Mo towards Shizun. The half demon tried to still his heart and instead focused on chewing on the clump of flesh that landed on his tongue and over Meng Mo’s words.

Meng Mo returned the smile just as sweetly and fake as his student in front of him. The ancient demon himself knew these words too well from centuries past.

He only dared to deliver them this way because he was certain of his uncontested supremacy of his dream magic. Meng Mo didn’t know what kind of demon fathered Luo Binghe, but he was certain the student was at least no dream demon. No matter how powerful, the realm of dreams played by its own rules and dream demons were the true game masters.

“Now this Junior is still far from realizing it completely. But he’s already above so many of his ‘peers’ on this dull mountain. There is no need for him to stoop on the level of foolish humans. This Junior often makes his own life much harder than it needs to be since he resorts too often to diplomatic drivel instead of just beating his opponent into submission.“

Luo Binghe swallowed his pride and blood in his mouth. It churned inside his stomach, just as these words were tumbling in his head. Someone so disrespectful towards Shizun couldn’t be worth listening to. Ah, but what he preached did have some similarity to what Shizun already said. Except, Shizun also told him not to give in to his base desires, which apparently were already more active and violent than he had anticipated.

Luo Binghe felt torn and lost again. What was he supposed to think; to do? This was a whole mess.

He glanced back at Meng Mo.

All he knew right now was, that Meng Mo had said horrible things, but he still lacked the strength to force an apology out of the old demon. Luo Binghe didn’t want to see the reminder of his own weakness right now.

He needed more time to pick through everything that had happened anyway. He said so to Meng Mo who easily agreed that neither of them were currently in the mood for dream training. Luo Binghe remained courteous through the exchange, but his heart bore a notch to never forget any insult against Shizun.

Chapter Text

The next morning Luo Binghe prepared and served breakfast for his master like always. He looked no worse for wear despite crying for what felt like hours yesterday. Shen Yuan couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the protagonist halo.
Whenever Shen Yuan had a bad crying fit in his original body, he always looked like death the next day (more so than usual). His eyes would be bloodshot and hurting, while the skin was swollen and splotchy. It made hiding his feelings futile, no matter how much he wished to put up a face of maturity when his family came to visit him in the hospital.

Luo Binghe’s complexion was just as perfect as always and bore no hint of last night. He didn’t even have any dark rings under his eyes, even though he couldn’t have slept more than a few hours.

In anticipation of tomorrow’s Immortal Alliance Conference, Shen Qingqiu had only assigned light work and theoretical studies for all his students, so their muscles would get some extra time for recuperation. Thus, master and disciple had changed into similarly shaded uniforms of viridian, which were typical on Qing Jing peak for studying. These garments had more layers, were stiffer and more ornate than the uniform used for training or cultivation.

Shen Qingqiu himself had only planned to give some theoretical lectures about his favorite topic today. The week-long monster killing event was the best excuse he’d ever get to ramble more about monsters, so he’d take full advantage of that.

Despite the more or less leisurely day ahead of them, Shen Qingqiu noticed Luo Binghe fidgeting restlessly. Enjoying this delicious congee with shredded ginger and side dishes of sautéed duck and root vegetables got considerably harder when an emotionally traumatized teen was throwing you anxious glances every two seconds…

After the lightest prod from Shen Qingqiu, Binghe confessed, “This disciple is concerned. Shizun said he had been suspecting something for a long time now. Is this one’s demonic qi leaking…? The dream demon claimed otherwise, but how else could Shizun tell?”

Shen Qingqiu had been expecting something along these lines. The protagonist halo not only made Luo Binghe the hottest guy in the world, but also super smart. He was bound to ask questions, which is why Shen Yuan spent the last three years to come up with a comprehensive web of half-truths and convenient lies by omission.

He won’t give Binghe much possibilities to inject while monologuing his spiel, so he hoped reality wouldn’t veer too far off from his script this time.

Shen Qingqiu laid down his chopsticks and neatly folded his hands on top of the low table. He needed to engross himself totally in the performance.

He hummed, “Hmm. About that, I believe this disciple does not need to fret. At least if Binghe continues to restrain his demonic arts to the dream realm. I had indeed long become aware of a certain…change inside Binghe. But what I felt when I tested Binghe’s meridians was not quite ‘demonic’. It is a little difficult to explain, but let this teacher try.

Qi is intimately personal, more so than any written signature could ever possibly be. It is almost impossible to falsify it and very difficult to alter artificially. Yet qi is not static either. Just like any other part of the body it grows and changes naturally together with the person. This is especially true for young cultivators, similar to how a body of a child still grows and changes at a much faster rate than an adult.

Binghe is on the cusps of adulthood, so some bigger changes can still be expected. However, your qi’s quantity and quality had both changed significantly lately. Not enough to be extraordinarily alarming, but just enough to be noteworthy for someone who was familiar with your normal flow.

The change in quality was especially…odd. Not demonic in nature just…”

Shen Qingqiu scrunched up his face the slightest bit to let a mild frown mar his otherwise perfectly aloof immortal master countenance. He made a vague gesture with his hand as if he had difficulty describing the bullshit he was spewing.

“…different.”

Shen Qingqiu’s face smoothed back down as he continued, “I venture Binghe’s demonic qi might have assimilated to his spiritual qi or maybe demonic techniques also affect your spiritual energy? It is very hard to estimate how fundamentally different systems like spiritual and demonic qi influence each other. After all, the notion is only made viable by your heritage’s special constitution.”

Shen Qingqiu had scoured the Qing Jing peak’s library just to make sure there were no recorded cases of demon-human hybrids and how their cultivation developed. As expected, something that hadn’t been mentioned in the novel, would probably not exist in this world either!

If there were no other sources, who better to trust than an immortal cultivator specialized in exorcism and scholarly pursuits? Since he was explicitly only throwing out hypotheses, Binghe couldn’t nail him down on this drivel later either.

“Whatever the reason, the result is qi that still appears human but is different to the one Binghe usually possesses.

This teacher is not aware of any techniques, except perhaps for humans in the nascent soul stage or higher, that could possibly change the nature of an adult’s qi to such an extend in such a short time period. This master does not claim to be aware of all possible cultivation methods in this vast world. Yet all human cultivation is founded on the same mechanisms, so I know only an advanced, intricate technique could allow for this kind of drastic change.

However, when it comes to demon cultivation, this teacher must admit he is too ignorant. I can’t estimate whether this kind of progress and rapid qi quality change is achievable or even normal for demonic cultivation.

This was my hypothesis as to why Binghe’s qi had changed, but it only got solidified, when I pondered how Binghe could manage such a thing.

The possibility of Binghe joining a rival sect on the few short instances where he leaves the peak seemed quite unlikely. Even if he did, he wouldn’t have had enough time or opportunities during his short absences to learn obscure, advanced human techniques that allowed him to make such odd leaps and bounds.

On the other hand, the possibility of someone teaching Binghe while he stayed on Qing Jing peak and hiding it successfully seemed equally unlikely – at first glance. This teacher hasn’t noticed any noteworthy changes or abnormalities in any of his other disciples, so he presumed none of them involved in whatever Binghe was doing. Outsiders of Cang Qiong Mountain are only allowed on our peak with permission and some kind of supervision.

However, there are several ways for demons to move or communicate, which would be very hard for humans to replicate or even detect. Telepathy, teleportation, possession, phasing through shadows or walls – these are rare but not unheard-of demonic abilities, which a demon could use to sneak in past Cang Qiong’s barriers.”

Cang Qiong Mountain’s defenses were canonically riddled with more holes than Swiss cheese. Ironically, they were especially vulnerable to demons while they fared ok-ish against humans.

Mobei Jun presumably came and went as he pleased, whenever he fetched information from his mole and there had been no alarm when Meng Mo was transferred from the demonic artefact to Luo Binghe. Sometimes an evil spirit or demon would possess or control one of the disciples and they could only be sent to the demon detecting sword Hong Jing after the possession instead of preventing it. Even Sha Hualing somehow sneaked a goddamn army through their wards and the disciples had to manually alert the peak lords.

“The rarest among such techniques is probably dream manipulation. An almost extinct art, but this master has not forgotten Meng Mo’s appearance almost three years past. He invaded our sect and dreams without anyone noticing!”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes fixated Luo Binghe and he hoped the intensity of the stare would imply the slightest hint of accusation.

“Binghe had claimed the demon had been too weak to maintain the dream, but that wasn’t the impression this master got from his own short encounter with the dream demon…After all, Meng Mo still had had the energy left to induce another dream tailored for myself after he ejected me from the shared nightmare.”

Luo Binghe tensed at the reminder of his first lie. Guilt rose in his chest to blood into regret. Oh, how much stress and anguish it could have saved him, if he had only been honest from the start to Shizun!!

The disciple faceplanted unceremoniously to stutter out another apology. The groveling no longer surprised Shen Qingqiu, which was alarming in itself.

He clapped the boy a few times on his shoulder, so he’d rise again. Dark, misty eyes peered back at him from the ground. Shen Qingqiu’s quickly brushed the issue under the table, so he could continue with his script.

“At first, these suspicions had been quieted by the meridian check I performed on Binghe directly after waking from the nightmare.

But then time passed and Meng Mo supposedly never tried to attack again? Quite odd, since he had shown such interest in Binghe before. Additionally, he never explained why he was interested or did the invasion in the first place…

Now this all still didn’t amount to concrete proof of anything. But these little hints accumulated until it looked like there were just too many oddities for it to be a coincidence.

So you see, this teacher didn’t notice per se that Binghe had started demonic cultivation. It is merely that this teacher could reasonably rule out the other possibilities, so demonic cultivation remained as the most likely explanation after a process of elimination.”

Dark and wide eyes stared back at him. Shen Qingqiu took a long breath and let out a small sigh before shaking his head wistfully.

“Despite my suspicions, Binghe didn’t do anything dubious after the nightmare incident either. You were always under my supervision anyway, so I could have intervened if anything happened. While I still hedged my doubts, I believed myself to be in control of the situation in any case, so I brushed it off for the longest time. I wanted to wait and attain more evidence before I made any accusations at least.

But then the Immortal Alliance Conference loomed on the horizon... Binghe and many young disciples from the other sects would be outside of my range of influence for a whole week. It’d have been irresponsible of me to not put my suspicions to rest before allowing you to participate…”

Shen Qingqiu sipped on his tea to hide a smile after ending his make-believe lecture. To be honest, he was a little proud of what he came up with.
Bullshit is best hidden in a mantle of truth. What he said about qi cultivation was true, just not what he said about Binghe’s case. Meng Mo had hidden any influence his demonic training had had on Binghe’s qi.

Although he had been a little nervous that a savvy protagonist could be able to discover a glaring mistake, which he himself might have overlooked. But with the way Binghe sat there open-mouthed like a fish out of water, it seemed like his disciple had taken the bait and swallowed it whole.

Binghe slowly closed his mouth and muttered with wide, adoring eyes, “This disciple is in awe. For Shizun to come to the right conclusion from only such minuscule details! Shizun is truly amazing! This disciple must admit he himself hadn’t notice any kind of change in his qi…how shameful and negligent…”

Shen Qingqiu knew he had to downplay his own smarts. It’d be weird if someone actually found out the whole truth, considering how Binghe was a hybrid partly belonging to a dying bloodline and what not.

“Ah, but this master was not entirely correct. He had assumed Binghe was a human disciple who was a covert rogue, seduced by empty promises of a demon…If this master had known, Binghe was…left little other choice…then he’d have handled the situation much differently…”

Shen Qingqiu still felt bad for making his little white bun cry, but his face wasn’t thick enough for a proper apology. This had to suffice.

The disciple stiffened. Shen Qingqiu was worried he’d grovel again or do other dramatic shit, so he just barged on.

“Anyway, there’s no shame on Binghe’s part for not noticing the change. Qi flows through one’s body at all times, so it is only natural – inevitable even! – to get used to it. Just as how one’s nose becomes blind to their own unique body scent.

Another, perhaps a little more picturesque example would be height. A child will not notice how it is growing a tiny amount every day either. The change in your qi was similarly gradual, albeit it was peculiar.
Binghe has grown quite a lot the last three years – you’re almost a whole head taller now than during the Skinner incident. But such a growth spurt is not uncommon for boys in their early and mid-teens.

However, cultivation is the most flexible before one reaches the age of thirteen, which is why twelve is usually the upper age limit for beginning cultivation. Past that age mark, cultivation becomes noticeably more rigid.

So if I were to make an analogy to Binghe’s cultivation growth in the last three years, it’d be similar to a man in his early twenties growing a head taller. When you add the odd change of quality, you could imagine the man’s stature and face also changing because he became muscular and his jaw bone matured. It’s not impossible, but quite unusual.  

Ah, but cultivation is not nearly as conspicuous or obvious to perceive. Most normal humans can barely perceive qi at all, unless it’s concentrated or directed at them like an attack. Disciples can make estimations, but inexperienced ones routinely misjudge it which leads to them grossly underestimating their opponent. Identifying people by the qualities of their personal qi is a lot harder and requires both more proficiency and effort, which is rarely worth it. Even during combat, it’s usually enough to perceive the presence and quantity of qi.

As with many things, judging qi gets easier when it’s in close proximity and available in an adequate quantity. Cultivators obviously possess much larger quantities of qi than normal humans, but they also make an effort to keep the qi within themselves. Growing and retaining one’s qi is part of the reason why cultivation can prolong one’s life.    

I have no reason to spend the energy and concentration on analyzing my disciple’s individual nuances in qi, as I obviously can tell who is who by the face. But when one is in direct contact with a large amount of qi, the subtle differences can almost become glaring to someone who knows how to identify via qi.

To come back to my first analogy, qi is rather similar to body scent in that regard. Unless someone is lacking in hygiene, people usually don’t pay attention to how their fellows smell. But when one’s nose is pressed against someone else or a worn piece of clothing is thrown against one’s face, noticing the scent becomes almost inevitable if you have any sense of smell.

This master watches over Binghe as he practices his cultivation frequently, but only the occasional stances which involved close quarter sparring like grapples clued him in on Binghe’s odd development.”

Luo Binghe had known that identification via qi had been possible beforehand. But he had never imagined the description of the process to sound so intimate?! He felt heat rise to his cheeks when he thought about how he very much made an effort to try and smell his master all the time – he just adored the soft fragrance of green tea with what reminded him of slightly dewy bamboo leaves on a crisp spring morning and could never get enough of it.

“Binghe, are you alright?”, the teacher asked and put his palm on Binghe’s forehead. “You’re burning up! I hope you’re not thinking of becoming sick, when the Immortal Alliance Conference is tomorrow."

“Ah, yes! Of course, this disciple is alright! T-this disciple, uh, is merely embarrassed because he hadn’t understood before, but now he does. Thanking Shizun for the vivid comparison”, Luo Binghe sputtered.

Shen Qingqiu nodded and almost felt a little silly when he pulled his hand back. Of course, the protagonist couldn’t get sick.

He continued, “This kind of understanding of qi is quite advanced. It’s not unusual for Binghe to not be aware of it. So do not fret, your fellow disciples are even less aware of it. They lack the proficiency to perceive it and the other peak lords don’t see Binghe often, much less witness his cultivation at close range.”

Luo Binghe mused, “But what about Mu-Shishu? He’s taken a close look at my meridians during the annual check-ups.”

What Shen Qingqiu had narrated about qi perception had been true for the most part. So, if there had actually been the proclaimed change in Luo Binghe, his disciple was right to suspect that Mu Qingfang might have been able to notice something. But Shen Yuan prepared to explain it away.  

“Yes, but what was peculiar about Binghe’s development was not the end result, but the rapid change in such a short amount of time. A lone inspection wouldn’t have turned up anything too outlandish. It’s only when one notices the differences compared to the next examination, that suspicions might arise.

Mu-Shidi examines hundreds of disciples each year and Binghe has only been there maybe a handful of times in the last three years. When Mu-Shidi inspected Binghe’s meridians again, he’d surely have forgotten what his qi felt like the last time you visited.” 

Luo Binghe nodded with a thoughtful expression before he threw in, “Then what about Meng Mo? The dream demon has been my constant companion for the last few years. Ah, but perhaps I was just a fool to trust the word of a demon in the first place…”

There it was! The probably biggest weak point in his web of lies. As expected for the protagonist to mention it so soon.

“Perhaps…or perhaps the opposite reason to earlier might apply. The dream demon is teaching this disciple in exchange for Binghe to willingly become his host, is he not? Does Binghe know why the dream demon would be interested in a single, long-term host in the first place?”

Luo Binghe raised an eyebrow. He knew Meng Mo’s reason since the beginning. He put his chin into his hands and mulled over how the reason could relate to Meng Mo’s incompetence right now.

“The dream demon requires a long-term environment to recover his own strength. Changing hosts weakens one’s soul, as each switch inevitably leaves a part of the soul behind in the old host.”

Shen Qingqiu hinted with a deliberate word choice, “Does this disciple know what vessel Meng Mo inhibited before him and how he came in contact with Binghe?”

“Yes, the demon had complained that the demon saintess Sha Hualing used some kind of demonic artefact on this disciple for no discernible reason after her invasion. The dream demon apparently lived in that device beforehand and only left it because he was forced out.”

The master could already see the gears turning in his disciple’s head, trying to figure out what connected the last vessel to himself. Shen Qingqiu was patient and generous with his clues. People were more likely to believe stuff if they thought it was their own idea.

“Can this disciple imagine why the dream demon found no suitable alternative in your martial siblings? Why not just forego possible resistance entirely and inhibit another inanimate object?”

It didn’t take long for the protagonist to deduce the explanation with the new information he was given. The differences between a demonic artefact and any old tea pot were endless, but there was one major factor, which could also apply to Binghe and his fellow disciples. The protagonist’s eyes widened slightly in understanding.

“Does it have something to do with the cultivation level?”

Shen Qingqiu allowed a small smile to flit across his graceful features, which made Binghe’s heart flutter. Joy and pride flooded his whole being before the elusive expression disappeared and it felt like a loss to Luo Binghe.

Shen Qingqiu’s face defaulted back to its lofty and elegant countenance. The master elaborated, “Indeed. Meditation is most effective, if it’s done in a location where large amounts of qi are concentrated. That would matter more so for an incorporeal being on the brink of dissolution.

Meng Mo needed a vessel with suitable qi levels. Even before learning the demonic arts, Binghe always had an unusually large amount of qi.”

Courtesy of his protagonist halo. A fanboy had once claimed that his ridiculous natural qi reserve was the reason why Luo Binghe never retained any long-lasting injuries from his childhood, albeit regularly being beaten down. Although this might actually be a valid explanation in this world, Shen Yuan had been sure that Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had never thought so far.

The real reason: It wouldn’t be enough if the protagonist was stronger than everyone else because he had two power sources (three if one counts Xin Mo as well).
He also had to be the very best in each category! Airplane even had to kill off ‘war god’ Liu Qingge and seal away Binghe’s pure blood heavenly demon father, so the protagonist would be uncontested in both, human and demon cultivation.

How could Meng Mo resist such allure? He could never! A disciple’s accomplishments brought honor to the master as well.
Even if there had been someone else of similar power and potential, Meng Mo was unable to choose anyone else but Binghe. All teachers must be drawn to the protagonist to let him collect rare abilities like Pokémon.

Out loud, Shen Qingqiu explained it away, “Since he was aiming for a long-term stay, the dream demon couldn’t target a peak lord either. Even if he managed to possess them, the constant struggle for dominance in an unwilling host would hinder him from meditating.”

Luo Binghe nodded and listened with rapt attention. The disciple kept quiet, so Shen Qingqiu felt prompted to continue even though he suspected the protagonist had already figured out what he was getting at.

“Anyway, Binghe’s consent and natural affluence in qi make for the perfect and probably only viable host for Meng Mo. Since he is literally inside Binghe and his true goal is to cultivate as much as possible, one can only presume him to be directly connected to Binghe’s qi flow at any time.
Thus, it’s only natural for the parasite to be as unknowing about a gradual change in qi as the host. If there is little separation, there’s also little chance for the other person to notice the change any more than the concerned party.
It’s similar to how parents are constantly surprised by how quickly their children outgrow their clothes. The child is frequently in the view of the parent, so their growth goes by unnoticed for the most part.”

Albeit the last comparison was a little awkward, Shen Qingqiu thought his explanation was passable at least. If he claimed this all to be based on something as intangible and ethereal as the feeling of qi, there couldn’t be any hard proof either for or against his allegations.

Now the biggest hurdle to making Binghe believe his pitch was Meng Mo. The dream demon was ancient and a true master to hide all his influence impeccably. Of course, he’d refute everything Shen Qingqiu just said about Binghe’s development – because the demon was right!

Shen Qingqiu prayed that if he gave Binghe an excuse as to why Meng Mo wasn’t at fault, it’d save Meng Mo a good deal of face, which in turn might mean the demon wouldn’t deny it as hard.

But even if he continued to deny it to his grave, it seems like it shouldn’t matter too much. After what he heard earlier, Shen Qingqiu was now certain that Binghe would take his word over the demon’s anyway. Perhaps Binghe could even work his protagonist magic to charm Meng Mo into believing it. He had routinely managed to make women believe much more absurd stuff.

He ended the farce with a little summary to calm his tense disciple. “As Binghe should see now, there is little to fear as long as he restrains himself as he did before. This master only noticed because his relationship to Binghe happened to provide just the right amount of proximity and frequency to Binghe’s cultivation.”

Chapter Text

Binghe had been intensely engrossed in listening to his teacher when he suddenly uttered, “So Shizun has been watching me for a long time now…?”

Somehow that sounded wrong in Shen Qingqiu’s ears. He swore he was no pervert, alright! He whacked his disciple’s forehead with his fan for such a rude insinuation.

Then he opened it and most of his face disappeared behind a lush bamboo forest illustrated on green dyed paper. He wasn’t bashful, he was only trying to appear scholarly because this was a teacherly duty he was describing!

“Of course. Did this teacher not explain to you what a teacher’s duty is just yesterday? It is to guide his disciples. How am I supposed to give guidance if I can’t estimate your abilities? Naturally, I need to observe my disciples to be able to make any kind of estimation.”

Binghe seemed much more at ease now but his smile trembled. “This disciple is truly blessed to have such a wise and prudent master…”

Shen Qingqiu raised his eyebrow at the shaky smile. “Yet it seems this disciple is not pleased? Or is another matter weighing on Binghe’s mind?”

His disciple quickly amended, “No, no, of course, this disciple is immensely pleased! It is just…”

“Yes? Speak your mind.”

Binghe eyes became wet. “It is…just…Shizun explained my…condition so casually…”

Shen Qingqiu didn’t know what to answer to that because he had no fucking idea what the issue was. How else was he supposed to explain his bullshit? Like a scientist with grandiloquent vocabulary or convoluted phrasing?

Binghe noticed the confusion of his master and clarified, “It is almost like nothing has changed…Shizun still treats this humble disciple the same as before …”

Shen Qingqiu had to resist deadpanning something so obvious. He didn’t want to look insensitive when the protagonist appeared vulnerable right now.
Instead, his voice was gentle and soft, when he replied, “Because nothing has changed? Binghe is still Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu withheld the fact that he knew Binghe was half demon before he even met him – so really; nothing had changed for Shen Qingqiu.

Fat tears rolled silently from big, dark doe eyes. Luo Binghe’s shoulders slumped and his frame was shaken by muffled sobs.

Welp, the stallion protagonist broke out into tears again. Really?! Once was already bad enough (if you can count the whole evening yesterday as one time), but somehow Shen Qingqiu has surpassed another threshold for douchery to make the cool protagonist a weeping mess??

He really wasn’t equipped for this kind of delicate issue!

All he could do was prevent a qi deviation, so Binghe wouldn’t blow up his little bamboo hut. He sat down next to Binghe again to realign the upset energy roiling through his meridians.
Shen Qingqiu put his hand on the disciple’s back and apparently Binghe took that as permission to go and misuse him as safety blanket again.

Aiyah, what’s he supposed to do now? He can’t exactly push the protagonist off when he was the reason for his misery…

Shen Qingqiu pat Binghe’s head while his disciple drenched his teacher’s shoulder with tears again. He had never been good with the emotional stuff and certainly didn’t expect the role as scum villain Shen Qingqiu would lead him to a situation where he could need that skill.

When Binghe calmed down again, he sniffled, “This disciple is truly an idiot. I should have trusted and told Shizun. How dare I doubt Shizun?! All this time…this knowledge had been weighing on my mind, my soul…”

Shen Qingqiu only hummed mildly on the outside, but on the inside he wanted to wail. Consoling him after causing this whole mess was just taking advantage of the suddenly frail protagonist.

“This teacher understands Binghe’s reservations. It is unwise to disclose one’s secrets and vulnerabilities haphazardly. However, a burden shared is often a burden lessened as well.”

Binghe still had his face pressed against the now wet shoulder of his Shizun as he mumbled, “This disciple apologizes for burdening Shizun with this knowledge. But this disciple truly feels much better after sharing his burden with Shizun. This disciple is sorry for being so selfish…”

Binghe was glad that he had learned dream manipulation as his first demonic skill. He suspected the stress would otherwise have caused him to have nightmares. Whenever the topic of demons came up in lessons or with his peers, it rarely ventured outside of their extermination.

“It is quite alright. Bearing the burdens of their disciples and supporting them is just yet another duty of a teacher,” Shen Qingqiu reassured. The way things were headed right now, he feared it’d turn out like yesterday.

He still wasn’t done though, so he hesitantly gave Binghe a little clap on his back. Shen Qingqiu gently disentangled himself from the sticky disciple to look him in the eye.

“Binghe need only worry about his duties as disciple.

…And part of his duties yet await him.”

Said disciple got the broad hint and pulled himself together. He silently chastised himself, ‘I’m already causing so much trouble for Shizun, I can’t neglect my duties now too!’, before he made a mental note to clean his master’s clothes again later.

“Once this disciple has calmed down enough, go and finish the preparations for our departure to Jue Di gorge. We will travel together with the other peaks. It would be considerate to pack some extra rations in case any of our sect are lacking. 

…I worry about Ku Xing peak in particular. It’s been a while since that peak participated in the Immortal Alliance Conference.

By no means do I wish to disrespect Ku Xing peak’s way of asceticism, but the journey and tournament could become quite arduous. The disciples have not mastered true inedia yet, but they are never given more than a pittance of rations if any at all. I understand they do it purposefully. Consuming only the bare minimum is part of their asceticism, yet... It might aid their spirit to ascension but it’s rather suboptimal for a growing, physical body that is performing strenuous activities. And activities which bear the risk of ending the body also endanger the soul inhabiting it…”

That was just another pretense albeit a true one. Of course, he worried how the students of the other peak would fare for a week with little to no food while running from monsters. But the real purpose was for Binghe to carry around more than he’d usually take.

There had only been few descriptions of the Abyss in PIDW because Airplane couldn’t be bothered to expand on anything that didn’t relate to boobs, butts or genitals. But if it was described as the equivalent to hell, there couldn’t be anything tasty down there, right? At least it’d spare his disciple a little foraging/hunting.

Binghe was tempted to comment on how he was certain the other peak lords wouldn’t agree on caring for a half demon to be among their teacherly duties… but he ultimately decided against it. He wouldn’t want to remind Shizun of how…unorthodox his views were.

Luo Binghe hurried to clear the table. His eyes were focused on the dishes, when he commented almost off-handedly, “…Shizun is indeed most considerate to worry about the disciples of the other peaks as well…”

Shen Qingqiu literally waved it off with his fan, “This is nothing to speak of. Cang Qiong mountain has always held assistance between its members in high regard.”

He briskly closed his fan with a snap before he clapped the closed device on his left palm, as if he just came to a realization.

“However, we can’t be disrespectful towards their chosen way of life and impose. Most will probably decline the offer even if they hunger, as suffering is an integral part of ascetism. If they truly wish to abstain, far be it for us to interfere.

Ah, yet wasting food is no good either. Binghe need only pack for a few extra disciples but he should choose long-lasting foods. If there is no need for them, we’ll simply pack them back up and eat them later. I leave the details of the preparations to you.”

“Shizun is not only considerate but also farsighted. This disciple will see to it as quickly as possible.”

Perfect as he was, Luo Binghe easily kept his balance when he bowed with an armful of dishes before he went to the kitchen.

When he was left alone, Shen Qingqiu no longer tried to keep the smugness off his usually lofty visage.

‘Damn straight I am’, Shen Yuan preened.

The extra provisions were never meant to return to the mountain in any case. They were supposed to be durable, so Binghe could live off them for longer down in the Abyss! And if he packed only for a few more disciples, the amount wouldn’t be heavy enough to be overburdening or as conspicuous the next time someone checks their storage.

The rest of  the day passed with nothing eventful happening anymore, but Binghe was noticeably stickier than even his normal modus operandi. Shen Qingqiu let him be, it would be the last day they spent together like this after all…

Chapter Text

His preparations were concluded, but it wasn’t his turn yet. Now Shen Qingqiu could only wait and watch the other, unsuspecting actors before the System dragged him into the spotlight again; for this role he never signed up for and never wanted.

The sect masters watched with figurative betting slips on their hands as their disciples fought their way through the forest. Shen Qingqiu himself had bet 5000 spirit stones on Luo Binghe, although he didn’t possess even a quarter of the stake. Binghe had only earned a few points so far, but his teacher felt tranquil and looked the part. He figured a Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python would count for at least 500 points or so.

Some of the other sect masters were impressed with his unshakeable serenity, but most were mocking him. Liu Qingge was by far the most vocal in the latter group; that man was never one for bloomy niceties but there was also no trace of nastiness to his ridicule unlike some of the backhanded compliments. Shen Qingqiu didn’t comment on any of that, he couldn’t deny what he did must look either crazy or irresponsible from the outside – probably both.

Alas, he had more important things to worry about. Like how Luo Binghe was exploited for his soft white lotus characteristics. A gaggle of disciples had gathered in his shadow to beg for Binghe’s protection, which was the reason why he obtained almost no points so far. He turned into a glorified, but unpaid babysitter!

Of course, the majority of his charge were beautiful girls. None of them were from Qing Jing peak. The spotlights of this world only shone for Luo Binghe; he couldn’t even share his colors!

Usually, Luo Binghe looked the part of a white lotus with his pure, white overcoat draping over the mellow green underlayers of Qing Jing peak. Right now, he was more like a proud tree surrounded by a group of flowers. Since he was a fair bit taller than the girls, he towered over them and the eye was always drawn to him despite the much more colorful ensemble of the deadweight.
Shen Qingqiu recognized Huan Hua’s flashy gold, Tian Yi’s vibrant aquamarine, Zhao Hua temple’s modest grey and dots of other colors from minor sects. It was like the composition of disciples only existed to let Luo Binghe catch the eye of the viewer – because that literally was the case. Just as they were purposefully helpless and weak, allowing Binghe to play the manly protector, showcasing his coolness.

Shen Qingqiu was well aware of all that. Binghe’s victory was already guaranteed anyway.

But it was more for the sake on principle. Truly, the nice people are the ones getting taken advantage of!

Luo Binghe felt a constant, uneasy prick in his neck – sometimes real, sometimes it turned out to be nothing but a phantom. The sensation of being watched never quite left him even when he couldn’t see any spirit eagles flying over his head. The surveillance was both carrot and stick to him. On the one hand, his demon heritage being discovered would mean persecution and most likely death. On the other, if he demonstrated ample qualities of a ‘good’ cultivator, it should help him build his case for a later reveal.

If he proved himself gentle and showed how he’d gladly protect the weak; then perhaps the less narrow-minded sect masters might understand that he was no threat to humans at all. With that in mind, his general wish to help others only got intensified and he went out of his way to protect any struggling disciple who crossed his path.

However, he never imagined there to be so many, who were in ostensible need of help. Neither did he foresee that the other disciples continued to expect his protection even after the immediate danger was over.

Why were they even participating? Then they got whiny from just walking a day! So far most of them haven’t even fought any monsters yet, but many were already complaining about everything and wanted to give up or go home.
Tough luck, the sect masters had explicitly explained in the rules that a participant wasn’t allowed to leave the barrier unless it was an emergency. Hadn’t they read the disclaimer?

Besides the possible boost in reputation for himself, Binghe knew he was morally obligated to help the obviously weaker disciples anyway. But inside his heart he couldn’t help but become unhappy. He desperately wanted to become the head disciple of Shizun. If he did, they could spend more time together! And Ming Fan would lose his right to intrude on them, which he currently used much too often for Binghe’s liking.
Additionally, if he scored in the lower ends, it would reflect badly on Shizun’s teaching. He couldn’t disgrace Shizun!

Suddenly, the particularly vocal Huan Hua palace disciple started to cry. She leaned on her older sister while complaining loudly. When the sister gently urged her to continue, Qin Wanrong had the nerve to stomp her feet before plopping down on the ground, simply refusing to continue. By her appearance, Luo Binghe estimated her to be at least 16 years old but she acted more like a petulant 4-year-old.

His patience had been chipped down with every new complaint, but he had reluctantly agreed to a (short!) break. It was shredded to a mere toothpick when Qin Wanrong suddenly regained her vitality after spotting a river. Regardless of what she said earlier, she was evidently still capable of running to the river and sticking her feet in there. The others ran after her, only to do the same. Luo Binghe was at a loss for words.

How could he politely point out they were acting immature and irresponsible to a rather ridiculous amount? It seemed bizarre to him how he seemed to be the only one in the group who objected to this. They were playing in the water like children in a bathtub and not cultivators on a mission! Didn’t half of them just complain how they were tired and unable to walk anymore?

It was evening and the sun would soon set. In this half-light it was hard to see what lurked in the waters and it’d only get worse with time, so it was dangerous to boot. His warnings fell on deaf ears much to his chagrin. They found the gall to beckon him to join them instead.

He had protected them for several hours now and they had been disregarding everything he said. He had to remind himself that he was still being watched and leaving them behind would probably leave a very poor impression. But the spider thread holding his patience was threatening to snap after several minutes of splashing around in the river and Luo Binghe had half a mind to leave without them now.

When the ripples in the waters suddenly grew and they actually got ambushed, there was a short moment of vindication. He had warned them. If he was a pettier man, he might even have responded with a spiteful ‘I told you so!’.

Then the situation escalated. High level monsters spawned everywhere. Most of the disciples didn’t even know what hit them. The ones who had waded deep into the river against Luo Binghe’s advice were the first to be devoured and unceremoniously killed.

Binghe was glad that he knew what he was up against at least. Although female grudge tangles were rare and only supposed to appear in murky water, not clear rivers! Then again, it was obvious that these monsters had been planted here by someone. No one could expect disciples at their formation level to kill monsters of that magnitude. If a ludicrous sect master somehow did, they’d have been stopped by the more realistic majority in the planning phase of the event.

Shizun had taught him that fire and the black hairs near its maw were its weaknesses. Binghe created balls of fire from qi and hurled them at the worm-like creatures, making them screech in pain as they burned alive.

The other disciples close to the shore scattered to flee in panic, no formation nor plan to be seen. This really couldn’t be called a tactical retreat; they looked more like headless chickens.

Luo Binghe shouted over his shoulder for them to stay together before he dived further into the fray to save the ones whose escape route was cut off by the monsters. Some of them were already in the maws of the beasts. Although he hacked away at the chewing beasts, he was too slow and they were still crushed alive – if not in a maw, then on the ground by the corpse of the monster. If anyone survived the fall, then it’d not take long until a second beast would come along to scoop up the wounded, defenseless prey.

He was hopelessly outnumbered, both in enemies and in subjects to protect. At the slippery slope of the river, he had trouble finding solid footing as well. Yet going further inside the water would impede his movement drastically.

He threw a furtive glance towards the sky, just in time to see a spiritual getting attacked by a bone raptor, whereafter it crashed. Had the eagle seen enough to alert the sect masters? If it did, he could hope for reinforcements…he wasn’t sure they could hold out for that. If he were on his own, he’d be fine. But despite his best efforts to protect them, the others kept perishing. Their group as a whole was too weak to even wait to be rescued.  

Was this really all he amounted to?

…The adrenaline and howling of the battle slowed his thoughts, but he realized that it wasn’t – not truly, no. He was using everything Shizun had taught him, but he hadn’t yet tried to tap into what was presumably half of his qi.

He quickly let go of that thought. He felt sorry for the ones wailing for help right now, but he couldn’t risk a spiritual eagle catching him.

…But if he continued as he was, his efforts would just in exhaustion and futility.

He hardened his heart and came to a new, drastic decision. He turned around. He knew abandoning the weak was not what a good, selfless cultivator was supposed to do – but he wouldn’t be a ‘good’ cultivator either way. His shame was him being too weak to solve this situation the proper way. He couldn’t win. If anyone witnessed this, he’d either be branded a coward or an enemy. Albeit both were unpleasant (and untrue), the former at least wouldn’t pry him from Shizun’s side. This wasn’t just about his wishes either. He won’t risk his master’s honor and safety for pampered, whiny disciples he barely knew.

Something inside him helpfully supplied how they were partly to blame for disregarding his warnings. With the spirit eagles under heavy attack, he might have been able to save them discreetly if he was quick. But that’d turn them into witnesses to his greatest secret and he’d be a fool to trust strangers with that kind of power over him.

He shook off the heavy thoughts and headed back to the woods. Binghe decided to herd together the remaining headless chickens. There was no point in pondering what-ifs for those poor souls in the river. He still had the opportunity to change the fate of the ones screaming in the woods!

At least he could fight properly with solid ground beneath his feet. The results were much better than in the river, although they were still far from optimal.

As expected, the others were useless.
They hadn’t even been able to fight the normal monsters, so it was no surprise they were more burden than help while fending off the suspiciously strong monsters.

At least it erased any guilt Luo Binghe had from relinquishing the few who were left in the river. Even if he had had managed to rescue them, the ones on land would have been shredded to pieces in the meanwhile. There more people here than there were in the river anyway.
He was surprised by how easily acceptance came to him. All options would have ended with some dying. He just chose the path which saved more lives, so what was there to feel guilty about?

By the time they found a little clearing which appeared safe enough to rest, it had fully turned to night. Fortunately, the moon and stars were exceptionally bright tonight and they could see fairly well. They quickly made a fire in hopes of alerting their sect leaders. The flares they fired had not been answered yet, but perhaps with a fire, it would be easier to find them since its steady trail of smoke would last longer than the fireworks.

Next to the bonfire, some disciples had curled up in a whimpering ball while Luo Binghe stood guard with his sword drawn and ready. Many were sobbing and complaining to different degrees. Qin Wanyue was suffering the most and crying the loudest, since she hadn’t lost a mere classmate but her little sister. In this bright, windless night, her loud sobs carried through the whole clearing.

Luo Binghe had never had siblings, so he knew he couldn’t understand her pain. He couldn’t even think of any consoling words, since all he knew about Qin Wanrong was that she was the reason they stopped at that trap.
Of course, he knew better than to remind a grieving family member about the inadequacies of the deceased. So, he silently gave her his handkerchief. It apparently conveyed an appropriate version of his sentiments, since her tears slowed and her voiced calmed enough to thank him. She continued to cry, but she turned into just another murmur in the cacophony of the disciples.

Then a young boy in grey whined that he was hungry but already out of food. That’s when Binghe remembered he still had the extra rations which were mostly intended for the ascetic Ku Xing peak.
The disciples currently gathered around the fire were not from the intended peak nor even Cang Qiong mountain but unrelated sects. However, this was an emergency situation, so he felt the use was justified.

As soon as he revealed that he carried extra food, more and more claimed to be starving and destitute. Fortunately, he had brought enough to prevent the seven hungry disciples from squabbling. At least the whining stifled itself out, now that their mouths were busy with chewing.

“Luo-Shixiong is so reliable! He is not only strong and kind but also well prepared and so generous!”, a Huan Hua girl commented while she nibbled on some flatbread. Her golden robes were disheveled from running, her cheeks dusted pink as she stared at him. At first, he had suspected that she was merely outrageously out of shape for a cultivator and that the reason for the blush was exertion after running the short distance.
The color deepened when he made eye contact with her. She fiddled with her outer robes in a nervous motion, making them askew, which in turn inadvertently(?) revealed a little more of the layers below.

Her excessive eyelash fluttering prompted an uncomfortable realization in his mind. He demurred, ‘What kind of man does she take me for…?’

However, his irritation never left his lips or surfaced on his face. Shizun cared greatly for propriety, so of course, Binghe would be a gentleman.

“Yes, thank you so much, Luo-Shixiong! What would we do without you?”, another girl in beiges robes raved. She was in a less disheveled state although he caught a slight pinkness forming on her cheeks as she strolled up to him, a little too close for his comfort.
Usually, he wasn’t that peculiar about his personal space, but they were still in a dangerous area and situation. He’d rather have enough space to fight…

Binghe took half a step to the side, seemingly to adjust the hold of his sword and empty sword scabbard at his hip. The girl seemed a little disappointed but thankfully she didn’t close in on him any more.
Although she didn’t bother to go back to wherever she came from either. Instead, she stood rooted on the spot where she aborted her approach, while throwing forlorn glances in his direction.

The glances were almost akin to silent accusations, but they just bounced off his impeccable polite attitude. Quite frankly, Binghe just didn’t care. Neither seemed the others who paid the girl no attention whatsoever.

Binghe still acknowledged her comment and remained humble, just like good manners dictated.
“It is all thanks to my Shizun and his thoughtfulness. He had asked me to bring extra rations for fellow sect members who might be lacking. Ku Xing peak especially practices asceticism which requires one to abstain from food as much as possible. Their food allotment reflects this notion, which is usually quite fine. But Shizun worried the tournament could pose too much extraneous strain. So, I was tasked with packing enough in case some Ku Xing disciples wished to make an exception from their usual ascetic practices.”

Even if Shizun couldn’t have expected this situation and this was not exactly the intended purpose of the provisions, Binghe found himself grateful and in awe at how useful Shizun’s considerations had been for him yet again. It became only more impressive in light of the other sect disciples’ provisions – or rather their lack thereof. It was the first night of a one-week event and somehow almost half of them were already out of food.

“So, you’ve got more?”, inquired the boy who had prompted this macabre picknick. He had been gnawing at a piece of dried meat and seemed not satisfied yet.

Luo Binghe’s thought were a far cry from his amiable face. ‘Really, what are the other sects doing? Sending untrained, pampered disciples who aren’t even supplied with enough provisions to last the designated amount of time…’

Luo Binghe’s eyes wandered over the other recipients to see if they were hoping for the same as the loud one. Two Tian Yi disciples were eating some dried fish he had taken out of the Qing Jing peak storage yesterday. On the other side of the fire, he saw another disciple clad in the same vibrant blue uniform, yet he was chewing on some bread rolls which Binghe didn’t recognize…

An unsavory thought sneaked up on him…Ah, he probably shouldn’t assume malice when incompetence will suffice – especially when these weak disciples had already plenty proven their capacity for the latter.

Perhaps other sects didn’t provide for the disciples equally or some disciples simply had no idea how to ration limited provisions. The latter would be almost impressive. Did they eat a week’s worth of food within one day or were they just so careless they lost their provisions somehow? What a waste of food.

Fortunately, a girl in a pink dress with a forgettable name, saved him the deliberation of whether he really wanted to acquiesce the unsubtle request for a second helping.

“Shidi! Liu-Shixiong just said that these rations are designated for his own sect members. To have him share them with disciples of rivaling sects is already extremely generous.” After the admonishment she drifted towards him from the other side than the earlier girl, seemingly trying her own luck now.

What was it with people not respecting his personal space today? And didn’t she take the hint after she saw the other girl’s awkward attempt fail? This really wasn’t the place nor time for these kinds of shenanigans, not when they were still in danger.

Although he wouldn’t have been interested even on the most pleasant or picturesque day of the year. Not in them.

Anyway, since they were asking for his protection, they should at least give him enough space to fight…

The boy just grumbled and sucked loudly on the remains of dried the meat with a sullen expression. Binghe was astonished at his brazen ability to pout despite his unflattering position.

Binghe’s smile was complacent and dazzling as he directed it briefly to his unwanted admirer, perfectly masking his irritation and intent. The girl was so awestruck, her cheeks started to match her dress and she didn’t even notice how he had sidestepped her approach as well.

Binghe replied, “It is what Shizun would have wanted…”

‘It really is, isn’t it…? Shizun seems to care for everyone – including someone like me who isn’t even completely human…’, Binghe thought. Somehow this led him to the weird notion that he wasn’t quite comfortable sharing his rations anymore, although he wasn’t hungry himself…

His thoughts were interrupted by a suspicious rustling sound originating from the high grass beyond the clearing. When a severed head rolled out from the grass, gasps and frightful screams sounded through the gathered congregation. Binghe made a gesture to shush the disciples, however only a part heeded his warning.

“Who is that? Which sect does this disciple belong to?”

“I don’t know!”

“Not from ours”

“Not from Huang Hua either!”

As questions and speculations rang through the night, Binghe ignored them in favor of slowly edging closer to the head. Somehow, it looked almost familiar? Could it have been a Cang Qiong mountain disciple?
The ears were pointy and the skin somehow managed to look both taut and wrinkly at the same time, almost like an ill-fitting mask pulled over a skull. All participating peaks from Cang Qiong had traveled here in one big group. He didn’t remember anyone remotely old or un-cultivated enough to have such leathery skin.
It’s also odd how there wasn’t any blood despite it being a severed head. Binghe examined the intersection where the head was severed when he noticed the bulgy but intact skin on the rim. This didn’t look like a cut.  

He finally remembered and shouted, “Get back, everyone! That’s a ghost-head spider!”

“A what?”

“That’s a head!”

“Wh-what?”

“That doesn’t look like a spider at all.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t that a human?”

The others were confused but Binghe’s agitation made them back up regardlessly. Binghe had had his sword at the ready since long ago and used it to flip the thing over. The motion startled it and its spindly legs sprouted from the main body. However, in this position it was vulnerable and Binghe stabbed it without hesitation in the temple. His audience behind him had shrieked and shouted in disgust, rivaling the half choked dying wail of the ghost-head spider.

“Eeek!”

“What the hell was that??”

“Gross!”

“Heavens, how did it do that?!”

“Eeew, it actually kinda looks like a spider now…”

Apprehension shuddered through Luo Binghe like an echo of the wail. He had been too slow and the spider had screamed, albeit it was cut off. He could hope the half-choked noise wasn’t enough, but he wasn’t inclined to risk it. “Careful, more will probably come!”, he warned.

“What? Why?”

“Where?? How?”

“No, I don’t like this!”

“Luo-Shixion, protect me…!”

“What was that disgusting thing?!”

“Where are they? Is Liu-Shixiong sure there are more?”

As he briefly examined the peculiar exoskeleton and the soft spot where his sword had pierced, he became 100% sure.
Ghost-head spiders hadn’t been seen for years in the human realm, so he never expected to see one outside of Shizun’s lessons on rare monsters. That’s why he himself had a hard time recognizing it at first despite its striking characteristics.

It’s no surprise the other disciples had never heard of it. Obscure monsters were a personal interest of Shizun’s that wasn’t technically part of the curriculum. But he always looked so enthusiastic when he talked about them. The adorable, subtle sparkle in his eyes when he chattered about his favorite topic was more than enough to make Binghe enjoy himself as well. Albeit he never expected the knowledge to ever be used in the field, he had diligently learned everything Shizun imparted on him. Because how could he not honor something Shizun had given him? Even if it’s something immaterial like knowledge or seemingly useless.
Turns out that Shizun’s miraculous and accidental foresight was going to help him yet again despite his earlier assumptions.

Binghe explained, “Ghost-head spiders like to swarm and if one screams, the rest follows! Prepare and get in formation! Protect your heads! It’s going to try and latch on your head, especially the face. Aim at its temple, that’s the only weak point.”

Luo Binghe tried to corral the disciples and shooed them into the opposite direction from which the ghost head spider came. As he took one last glance behind his back, his suspicions were confirmed. He could see large swatches of the grass swaying erratically although there was no wind blowing.

“What formation?!”

“Where to?!”

“Nooo!”

“I’m scared!”

“Luo-shixiong!”

“What does it want with our heads?! It’s just a head as well!”

“Ewww, don’t tell me it believes our heads are like potential mates because they look kinda alike??”

“What the hell are thinking about in this situation!”

“Aaaaah! Please, no!

“Ew, gross!”

“Stop it!”

 “No way!”

“Don’t say this kinda stuff in this situation!”

“Wha- yea, that’s totally gross”

“But, like… why else…?”

Luo Binghe hadn’t thought it necessary to explain the gruesome habits of ghost-head spiders, but he also didn’t want to continue listening to them speculate about its reproductive habits while they were supposed to run.

He dryly remarked, “They latch onto your face to drill into your skull and then suck out your brains.”

Loud gasps resonated in the group and one of the girls let out a high-pitched scream in horror. Luo Binghe regretted telling them what they had asked about. If any of the spiders had missed the dying wail of its skewered friend from earlier, they’d now be alerted to their location at the latest.

But he remained calm on the outside to not agitate further. “Shh, don’t scream. You’ll draw them to our location.“

The girl clasped her hands above her mouth and nodded. But just two paces away two other girls started screaming. Then shouts from the male disciples followed. There had indeed been a nest somewhere around here. Dozens of ghost-head spiders came crawling towards them in the direction they were running to. Luo Binghe was about to direct them to take a sharp turn, but before he finished his instruction, he heard even more baleful clacking of carapaces rubbing against each other. There were just as many spiders approaching from that side as well. In fact, hordes of the beasts were coming from every direction. They were surrounded!

The spiders from the grass patches used the hesitation of the group to catch up. They jumped and one attached itself to the arm of a girl with twin tails, who started screaming bloody murder. Ghost-head spiders were fairly manageable on their own if one knew their weakness. But there were just too many –spiders and unskilled disciples. While Binghe prevented the spiders from claiming their first victim, it seemed like three others got attacked and cornered in the meantime.

Some of them screeched his name, others were pleading for their absent parents or any kind of deity bothering to listen.

He rushed forth, forming sword seal after sword seal, defending as many as he could. But in the end this was no different from the situation in the river. He knew it was a losing battle. The longer they stayed, the more spiders appeared. But where should they run to when they were drowning in sheer numbers? He couldn’t protect a dozen weaklings at the same time all by himself.

He gave up on those whose heads were already encased. It was possible to get it off, but they didn’t have the time to carefully pry a spider of one person if five others would get devoured during the time it took to do the delicate procedure.

This was the most sensible decision to save as many as he could.