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Chapter Text

Ming Fan was as still as a statue where he was standing, silent. But at the same time, his hands were shaking, and he didn't need a mirror to know that he was as pale as a sheet of paper. 

Luo Binghe latched onto shizun like the damn slug that he is, and shizun didn't seem to mind it a single bit. Gently patting his head with such an indulgent look in his eyes, it made him look like a parent than a teacher. Ming fan wanted to gag, to run over there and rip the evil thing away from shizun. He wanted to rip Luo Binghe's arms off and make him eat it.

The Head Disciple knew he was being delusional. The younger boy, as much of an annoying pest that he is, hadn't done anything to warrant such intense hatred. Oh, Ming Fan always saw him as a thorn by his side, but Luo Binghe was completely innocent. He knows this, he should know this. 

Yet he still couldn't help but feel boiling hot rage that bubbled in his stomach and threatened to overflow at the sight of the smiling little demon. He acted like there was nothing wrong, it was as if the sight of disciple's corpses surrounded by bright dancing flames didn't haunt Ming Fan's mind every time he closes his eyes. Ning Yingying running off into the demon's arms felt like a stab to the gut. And nothing could compare to the dread he felt at shizun's unnerving calm as he walked into Huan Hua Palace, never to be seen again. 

His knuckles became white from how hard he was gripping them. A thousand words formed in his mind, his emotions became almost too overwhelming, too violent to handle.

He wanted to scream, to wrap his fingers around Luo Binghe's throat and kill him before he could do any harm, for daring to do this to him. He wanted shizun to drop dead before Luo Binghe could do any more damage, at least it would be more merciful than anything the little beast had to offer. 

But alas, he couldn't even lift a finger. 

Ming Fan had woken up to pain and itchiness that seemed to seep under his skin. He wanted to tear out his own flesh to end his torment. Bites that burned hot, never ending waves of ants that crawled in and out of his body, slowly ripping him to pieces. And yet none of that pain even came close to the fact that he had died without being able to see shizun. 

The Head Disciple turned his head and walked away, unable to stomach the sight any longer. 

He’ll protect shizun this time, even if he has to let hellfire consume him to do so.

“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”

In other words, Ming Fan knows little to nothing about Heavenly Demons, and that is a very bad thing. He decided to ignore the rest of the quote, considering he knows very well that he is but a mere ant in a world full of godly being that stand far above any human. 

The problem is that during the Great Purge Era that happened over 500 years ago, when the harmony between beings ceased to exist and the world was plunged into a constant state of war – almost every text detailing about Heavenly Demons were wiped out and burned.

It also didn't help that there were never that many Heavenly Demons to go around in the first place. 

But his options were limited, the last thing he wants to happen is for shizun to find out. It made the perfect Head Disciple feel like a disobedient first year junior, sneaking around and breaking rules behind his teacher's back.

But if shizun were to find out about the Luo Binghe's ancestry, and that he's even a Heavenly Demon, then his treatment of the younger disciple might change for the worse. Ming Fan found out the hard way that shizun's love is fickle, once he had thought that shizun loved him—but now he's not so sure. 

Yet still, Ming Fan remains loyal.

Even if shizun continued to support and care for Luo Binghe, the rest of the cultivation world will not. Ming Fan had heard tales of Tianlang-jun, a seemingly peaceful Heavenly Demon who preferred to spend his time travelling the realms instead of ruling his kingdom. The Palace Master had ordered him to be hunted and killed for defiling a Huan Hua disciple, but the circumstances of the story was cloudy and suspicious. 

Whatever it was, the story made clear that even a peaceful demon will be killed no matter what, or who it is. 

Ming Fan opened the first scroll and started reading

Ming Fan had been reading through some very interesting scrolls about sealing Heavenly Demons when Ning Yingying came in. Had it been any other Qing Jing Peak disciple, he wouldn't have batted an eye – but their resident shimei preferred practice to textbooks and instructions, so she came to the library once a month at most.

The young girl walked around, pretended to be interested in some books, picked them out and then heading to his table and made herself comfortable, without his permission. She knew she would be welcome anyway, so he didn't tell her off for it.

The both of them read in silence before Ning Yingying finally said what she had to say.

“Shixiong has been on edge lately,” she mentioned offhandedly “this shimei was wondering what he had on his mind.” 

Ming Fan looked at her strangely. It wasn't as though he wasn't grateful for her concern, it was just that the version of Ning Yingying she knew wouldn't bat an eye even if he turned into a completely different person overnight, if anything, she wouldn't even have noticed it unless someone pointed it out to her.

And sure, she was showing signs of growing into an exceptional fighter in this timeline, but that only put him even more on edge, for it meant that Luo Binghe would have even more powerful people on his side. 

Masking his growing anxiety, he turned back to his book, “Thanking shimei for her concern. But this is something that this one cannot tell.”

The young girl set down her book, eyes squinting into a glare, though her anger was not necessarily directed at him. 

“Did your uncle do something again? If so, then shimei would gladly go to the Ming estate and set him right.” Ning Yingying jabbed at the air, “Maybe he'll grow some thoughts in that empty head of his with a few good punches or so.”

While it was sweet how she was willing to commit physical harassment and possibly get arrested, and that Ming Fan would also love to watch as she does so, it wasn't what he needed right now.

He was quickly growing frustrated with the contents of the book, it was vague and hard to understand, it was even more frustrating how Luo Binghe could probably figure it out in a matter of seconds.

The only thing stopping the Head Disciple from tearing the book to shred and burning it was the fact that shizun would skin him alive if he dared to harm any of Qing Jing Peak's precious scrolls. 

Ning Yingying pouted as he ignored her, and unintentionally solidified her belief that his father had done something, she left the library in a huff, stomping to further emphasize her dissatisfaction at her shixiong for giving her the cold shoulder. At the same time, she was also growing more and more concerned.

Ming Fan had spent the last three days cooped up in the library, and most likely, he didn't even notice the amount of time that had passed. And now she came to visit him only to get almost completely ignored, even though he gladly showered her in his attention just a few days before this happened. 

The beloved shimei of Qing Jing Peak is many things, but she isn't stupid. She was taking in by the infamous Xiu Ya Sword, Shen Qingqiu, after all. She can be a bit naive at times, but even a blind person could see that her shixiong was incredibly troubled.

She wanted to ask shizun, but he had enough on his plate with his Peak Lord duties and his health as it is, and A-Luo doesn't want anything to do with Ming Fan. 

It is a shame, really. If A-Luo and Ming-shixiong could put aside their differences, they would become a formidable duo. But who is she to try to get those two to do something they clearly don't want.

Ming Fan was stubborn, and Luo Binghe even more so. The only person she could possibly think of being able to get those two to act civil towards each other is shizun. And even then, their animosity is barely hidden behind flowery words.

She wonders if they'll ever get along, perhaps they could even become friends.

Ning Yingying would never know.

The pile of scrolls cast aside Ming Fan was growing larger by the hour, and the Head Disciple didn't seem to show any signs of moving. Usually, Shen Qingqiu would be impressed with this level of determination – if not for the fact that Ming Fan looked like shit.

Ning Yingying had barged into his office in the bamboo house a few minutes earlier, with unshed tears and fury in her eyes, and told him to, she said, and he quoted “Tell shixiong to take a break from those scrolls or Yingying will beat him up!”

He felt a little guilty, after all he hadn't even noticed Ming Fan's absence from the class and how he hadn't been spotted for the last five days or so. For immortals, that amount of time is nothing, but Ming Fan is still a disciple – next Peak Lord or not.

Even Shen Qingqiu himself would probably go crazy after that many hours of studying, or whatever it is that the Head Disciple is doing. Seeing the sheer amount of paper surrounding the disciple gave flashbacks to his High School days when he would pull all-nighters to prepare for a test he had previously completely forgotten about. 

He cleared his throat, and when Ming Fan finally looked up, it took him about five seconds to properly make out who the green silhouette standing in the doorway was. Then, he proceeded to scramble and sway as he stood up and made the sloppiest bow Shen Qingqiu had ever seen coming from the usually pristine Head Disciple. 

“This master sees you are rather… immersed,” Shen Qingqiu noted, snapping his fan open, “would Ming Fan like to tell him why he had been camping in the library for the past five days?”

Ming Fan blinked, had he really been in here for that long? It felt like a couple of hours at most. He glanced at the pile of scrolls laying pathetically in an unorganized pile next to him and finally realized just how long he had been reading.

In an instant, he snapped into action and started scooping them up, rushing to put them back on the shelves. However, he was stopped short by a firm hand on his shoulder.

Shizun looked at him with bitter disappointment in his eyes, there was also something else, but Ming Fan didn't really pay attention to that. 

“Ming Fan,” Shen Qingqiu let go of his shoulder in favor of a gentle pat on his wayward disciple's head, “It's time to rest. Once you have tired yourself out, then you are no longer performing your best. It’s embarrassing that one of my own disciples would allow himself to deteriorate to this state.”

The shizun he knew would never be this gentle, he would have just ordered Ming Fan to rest or face the consequences himself. Of course, he knew shizun would never actually punish him, but he knew better than to test that theory.

This place is just so different compared to his last life, everything was the same yet… not. Often times, he wonders if it is really shizun he’s trying to protect and not an imposter.

After a long stretched out silence, Shen Yuan almost thought he had said something wrong, Ming Fan sighed.

“Yes, shizun. This disciple shall rest.”

Finally, the Peak Lord allowed a small smile to grace his lips. This little kid was learning, he had a long way to go, but he hoped that in time Ming Fan and Luo Binghe could get along.

In the first month of his transmigration, he wanted nothing more than to slap the disciple on the head. But he wasn’t so bad, almost nothing like the twisted and evil visage he had painted him in when he was still a reader. Ming Fan is hard-working, smart, witty, and loyal to a fault – he always wondered what that scum villain did to get such a loyal disciple that he stubbornly refused to give up on his shizun when the entire world already has.

Ming Fan did not, in fact, get some rest. Instead, he secretly, and guiltily, brought some unfinished scrolls to his room where he proceeded to pull yet another all-nighter reading and taking notes on whatever crumb of information he could get his hands on.

He did not notice how tired he became until he passed out and woke up on his bed, instead of on his bed where he spent the night before.

Instead of feeling grateful, he was mortified because it meant that someone had seen him directly disobeying shizun’s orders, and most likely already tattled to him about it.

There was also a chance that shizun had been the one to move him. As aside from Ning Yingying and the occasional junior coming to him for advice – which doesn’t happen very often anymore as most of them now opted to either ask Luo Binghe or shizun directly – shizun would be the only person to enter the Head Disciple’s room so freely.

But the thought of shizun taking care of him was incredibly unnerving, so Ming Fan forced that particular thought out of his head.

The Head Disciple tumbled out of bed, his foot getting caught in the bedsheets. He forced himself out, even as his head felt like it was screaming in protest.

He doesn’t know how long he has been asleep for, the Immortal Alliance Conference is only about a few weeks away, and he needs to be prepared for it. Ming Fan was aware that shizun and Luo Binghe had been in the same area when the Eternal Abyss opened, but he himself was all the way in the outskirts of the Jue Di Gorge, where there were many low level beasts that made of easy pickings.

In his last life, it states that Luo Binghe 'fell' down the Abyss. However, it is more likely that it was shizun to have pushed him down. 

But shizun and Luo Binghe get along rather well in this timeline, shizun made it rather obvious that Luo Binghe is his favorite disciple, so he wasn't sure if shizun would actually push him down.

On the other hand, shizun is also a Peak Lord, and his duty first and foremost is always to vanquish evil and uphold justice. Even if he wants to or not, shizun's duty demands that he kill Luo Binghe.

Which wouldn't work, as even the Xuan Su sword wasn't able to defeat him. The Heavenly Demon is pretty much virtually invincible.

Ming Fan slammed his head on the desk, groaning as he realized how stupid he was. Of course, no matter how much he studied or prepared, there is no way he will be able to defeat Luo Binghe. He had spent the last five days doing nothing but tiring himself out and wasting time.

“It’s hopeless,” he muttered to no one in particular, “What’s the point, Luo Binghe is just going to fall and then kill us all anyway.”

The only way they could survive is to pack their bags and run away, but it will take a considerable amount of effort to convince an entire Peak to run away, not to mention the rest of the mountain.

Ming Fan wished that it had been someone else who came back instead of himself. Shizun would have been able to find a solution much quicker – and more efficiently, instead of uselessly moping like him. The Sect Leader and the other Peak Lords had enough power to seal Luo Binghe before he could become an actual threat. Even Ning Yingying would have been more suitable.

So why him? He was just a Head Disciple, barely into his 20s, when he had been killed.

There were plenty of people that Luo Binghe had slaughtered, so why did the Gods choose the most helpless of all?

Perhaps this is his punishment, for daring to go against the son of Fate. Forced to watch as his home, his childhood, burned to nothing but ashes once again. A suitable end for a scum like himself.

Ming Fan locked himself in his room, counting down the days until the Immortal Alliance Conference.

In his past life, he had spent the month before rigorously training, doing his best to perfect every technique he had been taught. He had hoped to make shizun proud by doing so. But instead, had been disappointed when Gongyi Xiao of Huan Hua Palace and some of his own fellow Head Disciples, dominated the entire leaderboard.

He didn’t do that bad, all things considered, by the end of the competition, he had ranked 13^th. But he thought that he could do better than that, it felt like all of his hard work was washed down the drain when he saw Luo Binghe, the shidi he despised so much, sitting at first place in shining lights.

This time, he was focusing all of his energy on staying alive.

If everything is the same as before, most of the pure blooded beasts will be released into the south and center of the Jue Di Gorge. While lower level beasts will fill the outskirts, overwhelming the disciples with their numbers.

Even when the disciples managed to group together and fend off the monsters until the Peak Lords arrived, there will still many casualties. And among them was a disciple of his own Sect, An Ding Peak to be exact.

But this time, he didn’t need to stay away from danger, he needed to run head first into it.

The Eternal Abyss opened near the upper section on the South of the Jue Di Gorge. The only person who had been in the area at the time was Luo Binghe, who was searching for a mystical plant that is said to be able to cure any poison – why he was he searching for it in the middle of a competition? Ming Fan had no idea.

He was still wondering what to do then. He couldn’t stop Luo Binghe from being pushed down the Abyss, and he couldn’t stop shizun from doing it either.

It seemed, more or less, redundant to continue planning now that it has been established that nothing is going to save him and everyone is doomed to die.

Perhaps he should pretend like he knows nothing, go back to his duties and live in ignorance. It would certainly make his life easier.

Then again, that would also mean he has to live with the guilt of knowing things are going down yet not even trying to prevent it. Ultimately making his life even more miserable than before.

‘It’s time to touch some grass…’

His hair was a mess, he had dark bags under his eyes, and he was still dressed in sleeping robes. Ming Fan was sure he looked more like an escaped convict than a prim and proper Head Disciple. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He opened the door and walked out, ignoring the concerned stares of his juniors, and wandered into the bamboo forest.

The sun was shining too bright. The waterfall and birds were being too loud today, and the trees were mocking him by rustling so freely while Ming Fan was trapped in the prison of existence.

He wanted to be a tree as well,  so he could swing and sway while the rest of humanity slaved away to their lives.

Of course, because God hates him, Ming Fan happened to stumble upon the worst sight he could have seen on this horrible day.

Luo Binghe sat by his shizun, talking about something, sitting too close and smiling. Shizun did not seem to be bothered by it until he snapped his fan shut and hit him on the head.

Ming Fan held back a wince, his eyes widened in horror as Luo Binghe grinned with too many teeth, walking too close, raising his hand-

Before the Head Disciple could register what he was doing, he moved. His eyes became blurry and Luo Binghe’s figure turned into a black mass with blood-red eyes, mocking him – hurting shizun.

Ming Fan felt his arms being grabbed firmly and started thrashing, biting the hands that pinned him to the ground.

There were noises that he couldn’t make out between the scream of pain, small cries for help that belonged to the junior disciples. Smoke filling his lungs. The ants, tearing him apart under the gleeful laughs of a demon.

It hurts.

It hurts!

 “Ming Fan! Calm yourself!”

The head disciple gasped as he was finally pulled from his hallucination. He took a shuddering breath, eyes darted around wildly, searching for signs of danger.

“Ming Fan?” He turned his head to be met with shizun’s concerned (?) expression, “Can you hear me?”

He tried to wiggle out of his grasp and bow but was promptly pushed back down. Instead, he settled for a formal greeting.

“This one respectfully greets shizun,” he glanced at Luo Binghe standing in the distance, clutching a bleeding arm. Pondering for a split second, before adding “… and shidi.”

Shen Qingqiu sighed, “This shizun was sure that he had told Ming Fan to rest.”

This kid was going to be the death of him, he had been spending some quality bonding time with his son. When Ming Fan came out of nowhere and started attacking Luo Binghe, he only managed to get one hit before Shen Qingqiu stepped in and pinned him to the ground.

He was outraged at first, this kid was clearly suicidal after all! But then he saw that Ming Fan looked like a mental hospital patient, screaming his head off and trying to attack even when his shizun was the one holding him.

So he had some issues, that’s for sure.

What he didn’t except was for Ming Fan to turned around and glare at him.

“I did rest!” the Head Disciple hissed, “I don’t need any more resting!”

Shen Qingiqu pursed his lips, what happened to the overly polite kid three days ago, huh?

(Had Ming Fan been asleep for three days?)

“Clearly, not enough,” He relaxed his grip on Ming Fan’s arms, fearing that he might bruise them, “You are not thinking clearly. Take a deep breath and calm down. Binghe, go get your arm bandaged.”

Luo Binghe’s response was drowned out by Ming Fan’s outraged shriek.

“I am calm! Let me go!” Relaxing his gripped proved to be a terrible idea on Shen Qingiqu’s part. As Ming Fan successfully ripped his arms from where they were held.

“That’s it!” the Peak Lord finally lost his patience, “You are coming with me to Qian Cao.”

“I said I’m fine! I don’t need to-“

But Shen Qingqiu didn’t listen, instead he opted to directly grab the squirming pile of rage and mounted on Xiu Ya.

“Binghe, do you need to come with us?” The scratch seemed to be quite deep, “It might get infected.”

“No shizun, this disciple is fine,” Luo Binghe looked at Ming Fan’s thrashing form with a conflicted expression “Please, help shixiong instead. Ning-shijie told me that he had been acting strange lately.”

Ah, what a good kid.

Ming Fan was strapped to one of Qian Cao Peak’s medical cots to prevent any more attacks. He glowered at the poor disciple on the bed next to him, who was scooting over to the side, trying to get as far away from him as he can.

He was perfectly fine! Why did shizun bring him here?

Ming Fan hated the smell of Qian Cao Peak, the bitter medicine and alcohol. It was always stuffy, warm, and antiseptic. Worst of all was the smell of blood and sickness, it reminded him too much of his first life.

He always tried his best to avoid this peak, so it wasn’t exactly pleasant to be forced here.

“Shixiong, has your Head Disciple been experiencing some emotional turmoil lately?” Asked Mu Qingfang “His energy is getting out of control, and he’s beginning to go in the first stage of a Qi deviation. He would have gotten severely injured had we not discovered this at the right time.”

“Um…” Shen Qingqiu shifted uncomfortably, not knowing how to tell his shidi that Ming Fan had been in a come for three days and suddenly woke up like this, “He has been showing some… concerning behavior lately. He attacked one of his shidis.”

Mu Qingfang hummed, looking through the bottles of medicine and herbs. Picking out some black, and bitter smelling, pills. Shen Qingqiu winced in sympathy for his Head Disciple.

“Please make sure he drinks this twice a day, after lunch and dinner. And refrain from straining activities such as training. Light exercise should be fine.” He gave Shen Qingqiu the pills and walked over to Ming Fan, freeing him of the straps.

The healer frowned when the Head Disciple stumbled trying to get up, “I understand that the Immortal Alliance Conference is coming up, but please do not sacrifice your health for the sake of a mere competition. There are plenty of other representatives outside yourself.”

“I am fine,” Ming Fan tried to explain once again, “This disciple had a minor outburst, that’s all. Worry more about by shidi, he’s the one being attacked.”

“A scratch is hardly comparable to a Qi Deviation.”

Ming Fan turned his head and huffed… Was he pouting?

Shen Qingqiu was unsure how to act upon witnessing this side of Ming Fan. He had seen Binghe and Yingying get upset, but never Ming Fan.

His Head Disciple always seemed like such an uptight person, such a childish act felt out of place.

“Your disciple is free to go, please come back to my Peak in two weeks time for a second check up. If he experiences any discomfort or pain, please bring him back here immediately.”

Ming Fan fell asleep again on the way back to Qing Jing Peak, the disciples flocked towards him, trying to catch a peek at the unconscious Head Disciple. Even stood far away from the rest of them, hovering at an awkward distance before disappearing.

Ning Yingying complained as loudly as she could without waking Ming Fan. While Shen Qingqiu made his way to the disciple’s dorm room with her shixiong in his arms.

“I knew something like this would happen!” Ning Yingying huffed, “When shixiong wakes up, I’ll make him sit there and listen to me for once!”

“Your shixiong has had a rough week, Yingying. Give him a week at least.”

His eyes widened in surprise when he opened the door to Ming Fan’s room. It’s filthy!A terribly stark contrast to the neat room it had been just a few days before, how did this much trash accumulate in such a short amount of time?

Paper and scrolls were haphazardly thrown everywhere, the bed was unmade, and a pile of clothes sat on the only chair in the room. It was more of a pig’s den than a place someone could live in

It reminded Shen Qingqiu of his old bedroom before his transmigration, if it were a little bit smaller.

The young girl sniffed, furrowing her brows as she looked around, “Shizun, is shixiong going to be fine? He’s been… Well.” She gestured to the mess lying in front of them, clearly doubting Ming Fan's ability to take care of himself. 

Shen Qingqiu tucked the Head Disciple into bed before patting her head, “Shizun will make sure your shixiong rests until he is back in shape, Yingying does not need to worry.”

Hours later, when everyone had settled in for the day, a figure opened the door to Ming Fan’s dorm room. He set down a tray of tea and congee, putting a heating talisman beside it.

The figure then proceeded to pick up the scrolls and paper, setting them into neat piles upon the desk. They took the clothes away to the laundry room before closing the door, leaving Ming Fan incredibly confused when he woke up.

The tray was left untouched.

The weeks passed by in a flash, and the Immortal Alliance Conference finally came knocking on their door.

The participating disciples roused themselves awake before the sun came up, vibrating with energy and excitement. Ignorant of the disaster that was bound to happen.

Ning Yingying chatted animatedly to her martial sisters, Luo Binghe standing by shizun promising to make him proud.

Ming Fan himself was also awake, checking in on the horses for the journey there and back. He had to convince shizun to let him participate and that – yes, he is fine now, there is no need to fret over him anymore.

Ming Fan did not expect shizun to react that way after his little… breakdown. During the first three days of his recovery, shizun constantly hovered near him, along with either Ning-shimei or that Luo Binghe. He tried to apologize for his atrocious behavious, but that seemed to only make shizun more worried. So he didn't try that again. 

He couldn't convince them to leave him be either, so his studies and training had to be put on hold as he was practically forced into bedrest. They did not force their company on to him, but it was still terribly awkward for all those involved, except perhaps shizun himself.

He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, mounting the saddle of a random horse. Patting its head, before snapping the reigns and riding towards his doom.

He had prepared for this, he doesn’t know what he is going to do, but it is going to be something.

His shizun and martial siblings will survive this time. He’ll make sure of it, even if he has to die himself to do so.

Chapter Text

Luo Binghe has looked forward to the Immortal Alliance Conference for a long, long time. It was his chance to prove his worth to shizun. Truly this time, instead of just paperwork, food, and the occasional mission. He knew shizun would be proud of him no matter how many points he gets.

In fact, shizun would probably just be worried about him every time he goes up against a monster (his heart skips a beat when he thinks about shizun fretting over him once the conference ends). 

No, no—it's time to focus.

He will get either first or second place, and while he's confident in his abilities, his opponents are Liu Mingyan of Xian Shu Peak and Gongyi Xiao from Huan Hua Palace. Both of which are considered to be the 'Golden Disciple' of the Cultivation World. Shizun has also tried many times to get Luo Binghe in the spotlight. But since he's younger than the other two, and he hasn't been on many missions, he is seen more as a rising star.

It is only the first day of the Immortal Alliance Conference, and his rivals have already gained a rather large number of points. While Luo Binghe is mostly stuck with lower level monsters, and a steadily growing group of disciple from other sects following him.

He's aware that the group is only slowly him down, and he has tried telling them to each go their separate ways before, but when he looked at their lost expressions, the words die on his tongue.

“They are mooching off of your points, you know. If you kill in groups, the points you gain will be split evenly between all those who participate.” 

And then there's him…

Ming Fan's feet dangled above his head, looking down at him from where he sat perched on top of a tree branch. The Head Disciple is one of the many people from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect that was participating in the conference. But he seemed to be one of the few people who weren't taking it seriously.

And while it wasn't out of character for him to slack off on his duties, this is a very important competition where there were Peak Lords and Sect Leaders watching. The Immortal Alliance conference wasn't just for small Sect leaders to forge connections or have small talk, it was also to show off promising disciples. Luo Binghe knew for a fact that Ming Fan knows of this, he is still a Head Disciple no matter how stupid he seemed to be.

So why isn't he going off and getting points? Ming Fan had been training like crazy for this event, and now he's just slacking off?

He didn't even know why he was so invested in this. Ming Fan, out of all people, should be the least of his worries.

Luo Binghe doesn't… Hate Ming Fan, he just dislikes him a lot. Ming Fan made it his mission to make Luo Binghe's life harder every day he spent on Qing Jing Peak.

While shizun had his reasons, Luo Binghe isn't't sure what those reasons are, but they must have a meaning, Ming Fan only bullied him because he wanted to. And that he felt as though he was entitled to Luo Binghe's life. 

Ming Fan was the walking reminder of his life before shizun took him in, when he was nothing but a weak and defenseless little boy with nothing to his name. And he threw away his Guanyin Jade. 

So yes, Luo Binghe does not like the older boy. Even that day wouldn't change it...

'The scream that left Ming Fan's lips was practically inhuman, it rang in his ears and reminded Binghe of a wounded animal. He cried, he cried, and he didn't stop, clawing at his face and hair. 

Ming Fan did not stop crying even as he threw himself at Binghe with a surprising strength, leaving a deep scratch on his arm.

Shizun had to intervene and pinned the Head Disciple on the ground, struggling to keep him still when Ming Fan was still kicking and screaming incoherent words that Binghe did not understand.

Luo Binghe nearly flinched when those haunted eyes landed on him, wild and angry and terrified. Only for Ming Fan to immediately calm down and act as though nothing happened.

Shizun dragged the Head Disciple to Qian Cao Peak, and Luo Binghe forced his thoughts to the back of his mind. Yet, they stubbornly remained.

Ming Fan looked like he was going to die.'

Yes, not bothered at all.

Luo Binghe huffed at the other's words “Of course I know that. But I can't just leave them.”

“Sure you can,” Ming Fan finally came down from that stupid tree “Look them in the eye, and tell them 'I'm not going to carry your ungrateful asses through the entire competition. You have barely contributed to the raids and are clearly pushing all the heavy work on me. Leave.'”

Luo Binghe looked around his camp, many of them were already settling down and putting up tents—without asking Binghe mind you—and some are even sleeping. The two sisters from Tian Yi Overlook are looking at him, but otherwise did not object to the masses. All of this, and it was only dawn.

Ming Fan's words are true, as much as he hated to admit. He is never going to reach his goal and catch up to Gongyi Xiao and Liu Mingyan if he keeps them with him…

“But I can't,” He moaned in despair “They are just so… pitiful. I can't leave them, they all told me they wanted to impress their teachers too, and that they wanted to keep being in my group.”

Ming Fan pursed his lips, judgement clear on his face, “If they really wanted to impress their teachers, then they have already failed. Some of them are even older than you, and yet they make you do all the work. Shameful.” 

Luo Binghe did not know how to answer to that, he wasn't used to Ming Fan being on his side. He was more used to Ming Fan snidely telling him that he should be grateful so many disciples from other Sects looked up to him a leader, or at least a few glares sent his way. But now, the older disciple simply looked bored, and maybe a little annoyed.

“Really,” Ming Fan sighed dramatically, shaking his head “The only reason I'm slacking off is that it's clear as day that you are the representative of Qing Jing Peak, not me. So why the hell are you making us lose face, huh?”

Luo Binghe sputters “Since when am I the representative of our Peak? You're the Head Disciple!”

“Yes, but you are also the first person to earn a point in our name, so when people think of Qing Jing Peak, they'll think of you.”

Well, that did make sense. But that did not give Ming Fan an excuse to act as he is! He's still the Head Disciple, so he must perform his duties to the Peak! To shizun!

As if reading his mind, Ming Fan responded  “You are helping him with paper work, you are the one he trusts to do solo missions down the mountain, you cook and clean for him. You are also living in his house.”

The Head Disciple waved his hand around to emphasize his point “All I've done ever since he woke up from that Qi Deviation is deliver a few letter and tutor some kids. And even then, most of the juniors prefer you teaching them. Our shidis and shimeis are convinced that you have become the unofficial Head Disciple, and that I'll have to give up my uniform soon.”

Luo Binghe sat down on the ground, feeling frustrated with himself. He was aware that those things are done by the Head Disciple, but he never really wanted the position.

The only perk it gave him was being close to shizun—and he's already done that since he apparently, stole Ming Fan's duties.

And now he's forced to delegate a previously unknown responsibility?

In a fit of childish, petty rage, Luo Binghe pouted “Well you go tell them to leave, I don't remember any Head Disciple duties that requires me to do so!”

“Fine.”

“What.”

Luo Binghe watched in mute horror as Ming Fan casually strolled up to the camp the group had set up and told them that they can stay and get eaten by monsters. Because Luo Binghe just went on his own, and he's abandoning the group.

It isn't that he meant to slack off on the Immortal Alliance Conference this time around—or, maybe he did. But shizun wouldn't care about his scores anyway. The tragedy that is the Alliance will soon leave the cultivation world in shambles, so even if he topped the charts, his shizun wouldn't care.

Well, he wouldn't care about what Ming Fan did either way—as Luo Binghe is the apple of his eye this time around.

The younger boy is destined to outshine him in every timeline, no matter what he does. Even if Ming Fan were to train until his hands fell off, he wouldn't even be able to touch a single hair on Luo Binghe's perfect head.

And he was done a fine enough job promoting their Peak, for now at least, there was no need for Ming Fan to step in.

Another reason why he'd been slacking off is that it's difficult to concentrate on getting points when every time he sees a familiar figure, he ends up getting flashbacks of their dead and bloodied face. Not exactly good for one's mental health. So he decided to go on a walk. 

And if said walks always end up leading him to a certain Heavenly Demon, it's no one's business but his own. Said demon is also leading a small army of disciples from both major and minor Sects alike, he was impressed by how quickly the group had formed itself. 

Well, not exactly, all Luo Binghe needed to do was save a couple of damsels in distress, impress the other disciples with his swagger sword skills, and they swarm him like moths to a flame. If only Ming Fan had that kind of charm, it would have been incredibly helpful during his first life.  

Luo Binghe is a good leader, but he is also too nice, too dependable. Anyone could see it, how the other disciples left all the hard work to him only to steal his credit, how he never objected.

At first, Ming Fan thought Luo Binghe was doing it on purpose, as it would create a saint-like image for him. But as time passed, it was clear that whatever image he had made for himself, it was a pure coincidence.

At this point, the group is just going to slow him down. While Ming Fan wouldn't exactly mind seeing Luo Binghe struggle to maintain order, the reputation of Qing Jing Peak and shizun himself, is at stake. So, like the good shixiong he is, he decided to help out a little.

So he went up to the overgrown wolf, gave him some advice, and did what Luo Binghe should have done from the very beginning. Except the fact that where he expected a civilized conversation, he was met with a bunch of meatheads so brutish it would make Liu Qingge seem like a court official.

Yes, he could have been much more polite about it, but it's hard to take any of the other disciples seriously, especially since he's well over a decade their senior. He was a little too blunt and hurt their feelings, such fragile masculinity, but that was understandable.

They didn't need to start throwing punches, though, it felt like they were on Bai Zhan Peak. 

Luckily, Ming Fan did not need to resort to violence, as Luo Binghe inserted himself between the two like a knight in shining armor. Except it is not a beautiful princess he is defending, but rather a particularly unpleasant gremlin. 

He had accidentally created an ultimatum for himself, now he only has two choices. Luo Binghe weighed the pros and cons in his mind, and took a deep breath. 

“If you cannot be civil to each other, I am going to leave,” He said, “With your numbers, it is more than enough to working hunting group, you don't need me. I wish to impress my shizun, and I'm sure all of you do too. But I refuse to do all the heavy-lifting.”

Ming Fan let out a satisfied—rather smug—smile, and left. His work is finished here, Luo Binghe can now go on and hunt all the monsters he wanted, rise to the top of the chart and give Ming Fan more time to think. The other glanced at him, and without waiting for a response from the group, turned on his heels and followed suit. 

He jogged after the Head Disciple, scowling at the smug look directed at him.

“What was that!? Couldn't you have been more delicate? A bit of subtlety? Is the title of Head Disciple just for show?”

“It is, actually.” Ming Fan replied, “I can't remember the last time I was given any Head Disciple duties since you snagged shizun's love and affection.”

It was the nonchalant way he said it that made Luo Binghe uncomfortable. The feeling is guilt, he realized, guilt for taking something special away from someone. The other disciple did not know if it was also because of that which made Ming Fan have that mental breakdown. 

'Well, he deserved it.' He thought to himself, since the very first day he arrived at Qing Jing Peak, Ming Fan made it his mission to make his life there a living hell. The beatings, the rumors, his mother's jade.

He kept those thoughts to himself.

Ming Fan turned away from him, letting his hair drape behind him. 

“I know what you're thinking. It's written all over your face.” He says as he slowly looks to his left as the setting sun lowers below the canvas of sky. They walked alongside each other in silence, neither willing to break the delicate peace between them.

Finally, after an eternity, Luo Binghe snapped 

“Why?” He asked with lingering anger in his throat, “Why did you-What did I ever do to you?”

His words were barely louder than a whisper, yet Ming Fan felt like it was shouted into his ear.

He didn't answer, neither did Luo Binghe force him to, it is a small mercy he was granted. Ming Fan knew this conversation would happen sooner or later, the previous Luo Binghe asked him the same thing—though it was in a wildly different setting. He wasn't sure if he preferred this, or the ants.

Ming Fan remembered himself reciting his scripted apologies over and over during his first few nights being sent back in time. Too tired to be awake, and yet unwilling to close his eyes and allow himself to rest. 

“I don't know.” Still unwilling to face the demon who will eventually kill him, Ming Fan balled his hands into a fist and forced his eyes downwards, “I just don't know. I did it because I didn't know if I was confused, angry, or jealous. Perhaps it was a mix of all three. I just wanted to hurt somebody.”

The silence didn't go away, but became more bearable.

As the two parted ways, Luo Binghe mumbled to himself.

“I think I understand.”

With the group no longer weighing him down, Luo Binghe ascended the ranks with a record-breaking speed. Going from rank 56 to rank 3 in a matter of two days. Ming Fan wasn't surprised, but he was still impressed, had it been anyone else they wouldn't have been able to reach the top ten in such a short amount of time.

Then again, this is Luo Binghe, so it should be considered a norm by now.

Ming Fan had been on his own, killing any small beast he came across but not putting in any actual effort to hunt them. Luo Binghe was more than enough, no need to exhaust himself. 

There was a rather short encounter with Liu Mingyan, but neither of them are friendly enough to be on speaking terms with each other. Liu Mingyan does not hold any respect for him, and he couldn't forget the image of her merely standing by as his martial siblings had been slaughtered one by one.

So for self-care reasons, Ming Fan did not seek her out.

He runs into more disciples, a few small groups scattered around the forest. They nod at each other, but none of them can spare any time for casual conversations. More and more people are travelling into the deeper parts of the gorge as the competition goes on.

The realization that many people are going to die does not get better the second time he experiences it.

For a second he considered turning around, to walk back to the edge of the gorge and pretend like nothing is going to happen.

He can cower and hide, like his last life, knowing that no one can judge him for it. But that thought was quickly cast aside. Every time he thought about running away, his mind flashes through hundreds of dead bodies, the smell of smoke and ashes.

He thinks of shizun, alone in a cold, damp, moldy cell, and he feels better. If he dies, then at least shizun has a chance of survival.

“The mark of a Heavenly Demon…”

Perhaps he couldn't change anything, too insignificant to make a mark. What kind of disciple is he? Thinking he has a chance against a Peak Lord and a Heavenly Demon.

“Shizun, this disciple begs you!”

Still, it would be nice to die thinking that he had done something for a change. Would shizun mourn his death?… Probably not.

Luo Binghe is three steps from the edge, a sword aimed at his heart, a mark on his forehead revealing his heritage. It shouldn't have been this hard to push him down, Shen Qingqiu thought, but what can he do in the face of death?

The Peak Lord has to remind himself that Binghe is a Heavenly Demon, the shining stallion protagonist, he's immortal, invincible. Binghe won't die.

He won't die.

Why is this so hard?

Binghe's expression is one of utter heartbreak, terrified—not of dying, but of being abandoned by his teacher. How did things go so wrong so fast? The Abyss roared like an ancient beast, tearing the fabrics of the world apart, threatening to pull him down.

"Shizun don't do this, please. This disciple." Luo Binghe choked "This disciple is forever your loyal student. Please don't."

Shen Qingqiu's hands shook, it was harder and harder to keep a steely expression in the face of so much pain. But Luo Binghe won't die.

The protagonist has a golden, undying body. Even if he were to be torn to shreds, Luo Binghe will still live somehow. Shen Qingqiu on the other hand, has no such luxury. He only has one chance, one shot at survival. Why was it so hard to push him down dammit-

“Shizun, what are you doing?”

A voice cuts through the silence, dread pools at the bottom of Shen Qingqiu's stomach as he realizes he's not alone anymore. He had taken too long, the system started the timer, it's robotic voice grates against his ears, repeating it's orders like a broken record.

“Ming Fan stay back,” He hadn't meant for his voice to sound so cold, yet it was “This is an order.”

Ming Fan ignored him, stepping closer towards the duo. He glanced at Luo Binghe, then back at the Peak Lord. It that moment, it felt as though the Head Disciple had made his mind up about something, but Shen Qingqiu did not know what.

“Shizun,” The Head Disciple really began to shake then, though his face remained hauntingly impassive. “Please put Xiu Ya down. We can solve this.”

“There's nothing to solve. I told you to stay back.”

It's funny how he is the one who needs to be calmed in this situation, not the young protagonist who just got his demonic blood outed for the world to see. Not the child who had attacked his own teacher because of some horrid nightmare just a few weeks ago - but him.

Shen Qingqiu is the adult here, and yet he's the one treated like a child.

“Shizun, Luo Binghe is young still. We can still do something, put another seal on him or something! I'll even swear to secrecy!” Ming Fan sounded desperate even to himself “Please, isn't there… Something else we can do? “

The Peak Lord shook with rage(?) “Then you are a fool! Luo Binghe is a Heavenly Demon, he's the enemy!”

Silence.

[12 seconds remaining]

“Even if we do not think so then the world will. Tell me, Ming Fan, the moment we slip up, the second something happens—What do you plan on doing then!?”

[9 seconds remaining]

"This is our duty, as cultivators. As protectors.”

[6 seconds remaining]

“Shizun…" 

Shen Qingqiu didn't even know which disciple said it, perhaps both of them did. Yet it broke his heart all the same.

Ming Fan moved closer, since when did he get so fast? The young boy is everything, yet absolutely nothing like he expected. He became fond of the little squirt in such a short amount of time. Now Shen Qingqiu is standing between two of his favorite disciples, even if he decides not to do it, their relationship will be forever irreparable. 

[3 seconds remaining]

Everything happened in a flash of a second. The Peak Lord pushed Luo Binghe down just as Ming Fan grabbed onto him, the both of them were hauntingly silent as they fell. Shen Qingqiu scrambled to grab the wayward Head Disciple, but it was already too late. He watched in mute horror as they slowly became nothing but tiny little dots. 

[Congratulation! Congratulations! Congratulations!]

The Abyss closes itself, the sky becomes so terribly clear, the sun mocks him with its vibrant rays of light. Light that neither disciple would be able to see for 5 years.

Would Ming Fan even live? Can he survive in such a terrible place? No, he must. Luo Binghe is with him, he'll live—there's hope. There's still hope.

But what is stopping Luo Binghe from killing his long-time bully? 

Hours later, they found the Qing Jing Peak Lord staring brokenly at the ground, his fingers split and bloody from clawing at the dirt. Zheng Yang's broken shards laid next to him, as well as a Head Disciple's jade tassel. They say Shen Qingqiu became a shell of himself, barely eating or drinking anything, the sight of paperwork made him sick.

They say he buried Luo Binghe's winning and made him a sword mound in his own Peak. They say he polishes the jade tassel daily, refusing to appoint a new successor.

And all that's left is silence.

Chapter Text

Falling.

They've been falling for an eternity. Yet the end is still nowhere in sight. It feels like flying, actually, except there is nothing to catch you once you've hit the ground. 

'Is this what dying feels like?' Binghe thought to himself, still clinging to the body next to him, 'If so, then it's much more peaceful than I imagined.'

Luo Binghe was prepared to die for his shizun. If shizun proclaimed that his blood—dirty, evil, demonic blood—is a danger to humanity, to shizun, then he'd gladly let hellfire consume him if that's what must be done. 

He is still a cultivator, he must do his part in protecting the weak.

But what of Ming Fan? Why did he follow him?

Ming Fan is a righteous cultivator, he had his entire life in front of him, his future laid before his feet. He was the complete opposite of Binghe, who needed to die to protect society. 

He's aware that shizun had to make a decision, and to the rest of the world, it is a right one. But it still hurt. 

"This disciple… Is still your loyal student." Luo Binghe whispered brokenly to himself. Tears welled up in his eyes when he felt the arms wrapped around him pull him closer. He allowed himself to be comforted by Ming Fan's presence, longing for anything to hold onto. 

The world around them is pitch black, cold, and lifeless. Not a single ray of light in sight. There were no soft patches of grass, no bamboo forest, no comforting words he could seek out.

To Luo Binghe, the Abyss is a true hell—a perfect place for someone like him. He struggled to catch his breath once he realizes the implications.

'But I want to live. It's too early, I still want to live. Please, I don't want to die.'

Suddenly, the world flipped itself, and Luo Binghe found himself landing roughly on top of something. Or rather, someone.

Ming Fan groaned in pain as the demon scrambled to climb off of his chest, his arm bent at an odd angle, his ribs are also broken for sure. Luo Binghe panicked, looking around and trying to find something—anything that can help them. But all that was around them are a couple of twigs and some rocks.  

"It's okay, it's okay," Luo Binghe muttered, to Ming Fan or himself, he isn't sure, "We can make a sling with some cloth and a stick. Then we can-"

The other boy cut him off with a cough, forcing himself to sit up despite his body screaming in protest, "That's great, but we should focus on moving first." 

"But- but you're hurt!" Luo Binghe looked close to ripping his hair out of his heart, eyes darted around wildly in search of something they can salvage, "If we move now it'll just irritate the wound even more!"

They had landed near a river, which is either fortunate or absolutely terrible. The monsters and beast's housed within the Abyss are, unfortunately, still mostly unknown to the rest of the cultivation world.

Ming Fan considers his knowledge on demonic beasts to be quite expansive—but he is a disciple still. There are many things that he doesn't know.

One thing that is fore sure, is that Aquatic Beasts were the worst to deal with and the longer they stayed here, the more danger they were in.

Luo Binghe is in no state to battle. While the wound he received from Xiu Ya had already healed itself thanks to his Heavenly Demon blood, his mental state is most likely… not in the best shape. 

Ming Fan softened his voice in hopes that Luo Binghe will listen, "Luo Binghe, breath. I need you to stay calm with me here." 

He pulled himself up, grunting from the sharp pain that shot up his arm and limping slowly towards the stricken boy, "Now, can you hear me?" 

Luo Binghe nodded slowly, he took a deep breath and focused on calming down. Ming Fan put an uninjured arm on his shoulder, "We need to leave. You don't have your sword and I only have one arm. We absolutely cannot fight right now."

Due to lack of resources, Ming Fan pulled out his sword, which thankfully remained intact even after the fall, as a makeshift walking stick.

It pains him to use an important spiritual weapon for something so disrespectful—but his limp will slow them down considerably, and he'd prefer not to get eaten by monsters before he could see the light of day. 

He wanted to see shizun again, just one more time. Only when he is sure that shizun will be safe, will Ming Fan allow himself to die.

He looked around the barren landscape, no clouds, no sound—not even a light breeze. They'll soon have to grow accustomed to this scenery. Luo Binghe lived in such conditions for five years—that, or, he only found an escape route after five years. 

Ming Fan isn't sure if Luo Binghe's lineage gave him some sort of advantage or control over the monsters, that is, of course, not counting his ridiculous amount of strength. 

He is only aware that Xin Mo, the extremely powerful Demonic Sword that Luo Binghe somehow acquired, allowed him to escape the Abyss. 

Before this, Ming Fan took comfort in the fact that he had five years to plan an escape. But now, he's not so sure. 

There is absolutely nothing stopping Luo Binghe from killing him outright, except for his own morality. Something known to be extremely shaky after his emergence. 

Not only that, but assuming that Luo Binghe doesn't kill him, there's still a chance that they might stray from the original path—therefore possibly extending their stay in this hell.

But this is no place for pondering. Every second wasted is another second they could be in danger.

"Come on," He turned to Luo Binghe, who looked painfully lost, "Let's go."

It took some time, but they eventually found a nice and cozy cave to camp in. They had to fight a couple of Spider Bats, but they ran away quickly enough after Ming Fan threw an exploding talisman at them. 

"That was the last one…" Ming Fan had hoped to use it for emergencies, but one of the bats were close to grabbing him, and Luo Binghe had enough to deal with on his own. And he'll be damned if he allowed himself to be useless.

Luo Binghe but his lip, "It'll be fine, once we get your arm healed things will be easier."

The campfire crackled quietly, a soothing noise in the midst of the cold emptiness of the Abyss. They got through today but what of tomorrow? What horror will await them? 

Ming Fan is getting sick of not knowing—but what can he do when he's not even sure if he can survive?

The two (former) disciples stayed huddled around the fire to keep warm. Luo Binghe lied on his back, staring at the ceiling of the cave. Neither were willing to talk to each other, there is nothing to talk about in this kind of situation.

Luo Binghe is not exactly unfamiliar with the feeling of being unable to sleep. The first few nights he spent in his new room in the bamboo house was incredibly uncomfortable for him.

He was used to the sensation of cold floors and thin blankets. The warm, soft bed he was provided with made him restless. 

The sudden change in shizun's demeanor had kept him up at night, waiting. Afraid of when shizun would drop his kind act. The relief he felt when weeks passed and shizun continued to smile at him.

The cold floors of the cave reminded him of when he still had to sleep on the streets, when shizun would cruelly whip and punish him.

And now that they are finally alone, Luo Binghe allowed himself to think. He glanced at the other boy, who sat with his back up against the wall, twiddling his thumbs.

Ming Fan confused him to no end, one day he was perfectly fine and then the next he was screaming his head off and acting like a madman—then he left him alone for the most part. While Luo Binghe welcomed this change, he was wary.

With shizun, he had time to observe, to see and experience for himself shizun's kindness. Ming Fan's change in demeanor gave him whiplash. They were barely on speaking terms during the Immortal Alliance Conference, and now the boy had jumped into hell with him. 

Luo Binghe curled in on himself, he doesn't want to go too deep into it. For now, he is just grateful that there's someone to keep him company in this endless Abyss. 

He wanted shizun, he wanted head pats and kind words of encouragement. Even when he knows he doesn't deserve it, he still wishes for something so far out of his reach.

Luo Binghe wanted to rip the blood red mark off of his forehead and return to the days when he could go to shizun for everything - whether it be a mission report or a simple conversation.

Why did things always have to be so complicated? Does God hate him? Is Binghe simply destined for a life of unhappiness? 

Ming Fan pretended to fall asleep when he heard quiet sniffles from the other side of the cave. He's not ready to deal with his whirlwind of emotions yet, and he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it (preferably never).

"Shizun," Ning Yingying tried not to sob when she found her shizun lying face down in a pile of scrolls, "Please eat something. Yingying worked very hard to make this. It's not as good as A-Luo's, but please."

Liu Qingge stared at the pathetic mess that is currently known as the Qing Jing Peak Lord. Shen Qingqiu rolled over, all decorum lost to the wind. His hair is let down—unkempt, like he had just rolled out of bed. His robes barely put on properly. It is a stark contrast to the polite and uptight Peak Lord from before the Conference.

Gone was the lofty, rather air headed, tactician of Cang Qiong Mountain. He looked more like a grieving mother. He opted to stay silent, knowing his blunt nature will inevitably make Shen Qingqiu's state even worse.

The Immortal Alliance Conference, easily the worst disaster of this decade. Never before had there been an attack so devastating, many lives were lost that day. He remembered feeling his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach when he heard that his little sister is still stuck in there. Of course, Mingyan could take care of herself, but that is the closest she had ever gotten to dying. 

Still, he had never experienced losing two prized disciples before, mostly because he never bothered to actually take in any official disciples in the first place. So he had no idea how to comfort, or even sympathize with, the man. 

"Ming Fan used to call me shizun," Shen Qingqiu moaned miserably, "Luo Binghe too."

"That's because it's your title-" Liu Qingge barely got the words out of his mouth before the young girl next to him shot him a look. Under any other circumstances, he would have seen it as disrespectful, but he understood that she was merely trying to save him from shoving his foot in his mouth. 

He looked over to the petite young girl wiping away a stray tear. She has potential, he could see it. Her Qi is strong and her, if she trains properly, she could be a force to reckon with. If necessary, he'll take her under his wing when it comes to martial training. 

He couldn't help Shen Qingqiu with his emotional scars, but he has the ability to lessen his load.

Ning Yingying sighed, setting down the tray with a steaming bowl of congee and tea. The congee is a bit burnt, she is no Luo Binghe, but it is edible. But she felt bad serving the tea to shizun, tea is his favorite drink—she is now regretting not listening to Ming Fan when he tried to teach her how to brew it.

She never expected that someday, both of them would be gone. She had stayed back at the Peak - too inexperienced to fight and represent her Peak in the Conference. It had felt like any other day, she cleaned the Peak with her fellow martial siblings, she read some poetry, took a nap. Meanwhile, Ming-shixiong and A-Luo were fighting for their lives.

A fight that the ultimately lost. Not even a body was found.

She felt a sharp pain in her chest at the reminder she could never see them again. Her last words to A-Luo had been a promise to make her something when he comes back. And she didn't even bother to remember to say goodbye to her shixiong, being completely sure that he would forgive her anyway—like he always does.

She will become strong, she'll train and study harder than she had ever before. She'll keep Ming-shixiong and A-Luo's memory deep in her heart and do her best to honor them. The road ahead will be tough. And the young little girl in her insisted that she couldn't do it, that she should just pass the torch to an older disciple, one that will adapt to the role better. 

But now she had been promoted to unofficial Head Disciple of Qing Jing Peak. Her martial siblings relied on her—shizun, still grieving for their loss. 

So she locked that stupid little girl to the back of her mind, and steeled her nerves. 

Ning Yingying will do whatever it takes to protect what's left of her family.

Chapter Text

They have been walking for what seems like weeks now. Taking turns keeping watch in the middle of the night, taking advantage of every second of peace they had. On more than one occasion, they had to pack up in a rush because of a monster they weren't prepared to deal with had appeared.

To make matters worse, earlier they ran into a Three-headed Minotaur, and in the process they lost almost half of all their resources. The stress, the fear, the anxiety that something might catch them off guard and kill them at any point made it much more difficult to travel in peaceful silence like they usually did.

Luo Binghe wanted to rip apart something, the maul and maim and mutilate—His Demonic instincts screaming at the disrespect that a mere beast wanted to compare to a great Heavenly Demon of his caliber. The voices grew louder and louder by the second, and it made the young man sick to his stomach.

He glanced over at Ming Fan. His arm had healed nicely, the best it could in this situation—although there is now a rather large scar running down his forearm. The former Head Disciple looked a little at lost of what to do. No doubt trying to think of ways they can continue with what's left of their rations. Eventually, they'll have to hunt the monsters for food—fresh water is also quickly running out, but there isn't a single river in sight.

Frustration overcoming his senses, Luo Binghe threw the bag onto the cold dirt floors of the Abyss, his hands tightened into fists. His eyes burned with anger, “What now!? What now—we're dead. We're fucking dead!” 

Ming Fan turned to him with tired eyes, the stress had been getting to him also, “We can't give up. I'm not dying until I see the sun one last time.”

Luo Binghe laughed, “Optimism isn't going to get us out of Hell. Shixiong.” He spat out the word like it was a curse, “How. Tell me, how are we getting out of here. You know what's going to happen? I'll tell you what—Our rotting corpses are going to be stuck here for all eternity!”

“Luo Binghe, do not.”

“It's the truth!” The young demon laughed, “I'm going to die! With you! You—who made my life miserable. You, who couldn't even give me a reason why I was treated so! Even until the end, I can't die with someone I love!”

He was trembling, badly so, “I mean, I know you didn't like me from the start. But what did I do to deserve it? Why couldn't you have just ignored me or something!? Why did you hate me only to jump down here? Why are you doing all of this? Give me an answer!” 

Luo Binghe hadn't noticed the tears running down his face, the mark on his forehead glowing more prominently than ever. Ming Fan's face twisted as a sickening rage poured through him, finally snapping after months of pressure.

“We are stuck in this endless Abyss,” He hissed, “Every day, I wake up thinking that maybe 'This is it! This is my last day alive!'. The only damn thing that got me through was the fact that I want to see the light of day one last time!”

“So what if I'm being stupidly optimistic! Hope helps me move! It's the reason I've stayed alive for so long!” He gave Luo Binghe a dirty look, “There's nothing wrong with wanting to live!”

 “Well you can go ahead and have as much hope as you want,” The demon's face was terrifyingly blank, mocking, “But at the end of the day, I know you know we’re not going to survive.”

A familiar but most unwelcome tension had returned after months of being dormant. The two glared at each other with what could only be described as hatred, but soon—Ming Fan backed down with a resigned huff.

He crouched down to pick up the bag that Luo Binghe had tossed to the ground, and turned to leave once more. No matter how much he wanted to punch the Heavenly Demon, his urge to live another day was stronger. 

“So that’s it!?” That seemed to irk Luo Binghe somehow, “You’re just going to keep going—where’s your cruelty? Where’s the boy who kicked me when I was down?!”

“I’m not going to fight you. I’d lose anyway.”

“So?!”

“Would you stop that!?” Ming Fan gritted his teeth, “Picking fights every second. Are you a child?”

The Heavenly Demon’s fury sprang to life once again, “And what are we supposed to do other than that? Oh, that’s right, nothing! We’re in Hell, for fuck's sake! I don’t know what to do with you!”

“And why is being civil so hard for you suddenly!?” Ming Fan swallowed down the curses he wanted to spit, “We were doing perfectly fine before you started throwing tantrums!”

“Well, you tell me then!” Luo Binghe retorted, “At least shizun gave me time to think! He gave me a bed and food and everything I could ask for. Meanwhile, you still treated me like I was the dirt beneath your feet! And then suddenly, one day you just started-you just! You…”

The younger trailed off in thought, before it hit him.

“You knew?” He looked at Ming Fan, suddenly so very lost once more, “You knew I’m a Demon?”

Ming Fan took a step back, unsure what to do in this turn of events. Finally, he decided that denying the accusation wouldn’t do him any good.

“Yes, I knew.”

Luo Binghe choked, he could hear his ragged breathing, “Then you – How? How did you know?”

“It’s not important,” Ming Fan cut him off, “We need to keep moving.”

Suddenly, he felt an iron grip on his shoulder and blood-red eyes staring straight into his soul. Luo Binghe held him stiffly in place, backing him into a corner. Ming Fan realized, despairingly, that he is completely trapped.

“No, we are not going anywhere until you answer my question. Why didn’t you tell shizun?”

“How exactly do you think shizun would have taken it? His prized disciple, a demon? Impossible,” The former Head Disciple scoffed, “Even if he did believe me, he would have killed you.”

“I’m a danger to society! You should have told shizun!”

“You are a teenager – a child. Demon or not, the justice I swore to uphold remains unsullied.”

“Bullshit,” Luo Binghe laughed, “You were scared!”

“I wasn’t scared, Luo Binghe,” Ming Fan glared back, “I was fucking terrified. You are a Heavenly Demon, the very pinnacle of your kind! The last Heavenly Demon was only defeated through ambush and the combined efforts of the four Great Sects. You could have easily killed us all and escape. Perhaps do a little revenge as a treat!”

“I would never do that!” The Demonic child roared, “I would never hurt our Peak! How dare you even think that I would do anything to hurt shizun!”

“And how was I supposed to know that! You said it yourself! That I treated you worse than the dirt beneath my shoes! You think I don’t fucking know that!?”

The grip on his shoulders tightened, making him hiss in pain. Just as it happened, the hand disappeared. And when Ming Fan finally looked at Luo Binghe, he saw nothing but pain painted on his face.

“I would never do that,” his voice wobbled, “I would never think about hurting anyone. I would never-“

His words were cut off by a sob that ripped its way through his throat, Luo Binghe tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the tears from falling down. He trembled, with rage or something else – Ming Fan isn’t sure.

Slowly, he sat down, watching wordlessly as the other tried to collect himself. Ming Fan had no words of comfort to offer him, it isn’t his place to do so. So he listened in silence.

Silence is the only thing they could give.

Eventually, heartbroken sobs turned into quiet sniffled and then, silent tears. Luo Binghe sat on the cold floors of the Abyss, staring at the ground. Ming Fan stayed silent, moving to sit next to the younger boy, bringing his legs closer to his body.

“I don't need your pity.”

“This isn't pity,” The former Head Disciple replies, “This is the only comfort I can offer you.”

“How did you know?” 

The child quietly asks underneath the blank dark skies, too tired for rage. The campfire crackled comfortingly, he scooted closer. 

“I saw it in a dream.” 

“… What a stupid dream.”

“Luo Binghe! To your right!” 

“Stop worrying about me and watch your side!” 

They had been extremely lucky for the last two months of their journey, but luck runs out eventually. They were low on both food and water, and since Ming Fan had healed up nicely, it was time for them to start taking risks and hunt something. A few fishes and a wild boar or two, nothing that would set them back. 

Except this time, they chose the wrong river to hunt in. 

Ming Fan would have never thought that there would be a day when he would have to face off against an S class Hydra for some damn fishes—but here we are.

He tries to swing his sword at the giant tentacle that shoots towards him, but blood is draining fast from the wound on his side. True to its nature as an intelligent S class beast, it dodges every swipe—even Luo Binghe had some trouble keeping up with its speed. Finally, Luo Binghe manages to rip off one of its main heads with his bare hands, sending the Hydra into a stampede. 

The thing screeches in rage and starts to wildly fling its body around in an attempt to kill the source of its pain. It slammed its large body into the water, creating a massive wave that threatened to drown the both of them.

It is also due to wave that Luo Binghe did not notice the clawed tendril that aimed at his neck.

At that moment, Ming Fan completely forgot about Luo Binghe being a Heavenly Demon who could regenerate life-threatening injuries in a flash of a second.

Putting himself in the face of death once again, Ming Fan moved forward and shoved the boy out of the way. Still dazed by adrenaline and blood loss, he did not notice that he was in the same position as Luo Binghe was just before he pushed him.

Ming Fan barely had anytime to process what was happening before his chest exploded in pain, only able to hear Luo Binghe’s terrified shout of “Shixiong!”

He crumbled to the ground like a wet piece of paper, Luo Binghe appearing next to him in an instant. The other fumbled with his sword, dragging it across his palm, and attempted to get Ming Fan to drink the red blood that slowly poured out. 

Ming Fan slowly opened his eyes to a very dark and bleary world, with a stone-cold floor. As expected, even in death, he doesn't deserve to be in a nice place. He could faintly hear the sound of something bubbling, and a delicious smell—so that was good. Maybe this is his last meal before he could actually move on into the afterlife.

“Shixiong! You're awake!”

Ah, so still in the land of the living then. Even as he tried, Ming Fan could still not imagine a world in which Luo Binghe could die—so it's either an extremely accurate auditory hallucination or reality. However, with how worried and relieved Luo Binghe sounded, he found it easier to agree with the former. 

“Don't worry, shixiong, you'll be just fine. I have some soup and plenty of water,” Luo Binghe fretted over him, acting awfully similar to how he was when they had just fallen into the Abyss nearly a year ago—or is it a year already? It's rather hard to keep track of time in a world where there is no sun, only endless darkness.

“Please drink shixiong,” The demon whined when Ming Fan tried to sit up, pushing him down as gently as he could without irritating the massive wound on his chest, “You need to preserve your strength. Please just lie down.”

'Since when did Luo Binghe call me shixiong?' He thought, as Luo Binghe gave him a small bowl of water. And since when did they have bowls?

Not one to complain, he greedily gulped down the water he was offered, spilling some of it on his shirt, much to Luo Binghe's displeasure. Once the bowl was emptied, he turned to Luo Binghe.

“What-” He rasped, still not used to talking, “What happened?”

Luo Binghe filled up another, bigger bowl with the soup he had been preparing, “Shixiong had been asleep for two days, this shidi was very worried. After shixiong took the hit that was meant for me, I killed the hydra and used its body parts to make some things for us. This, shidi had used to his qi to help shixiong heal faster, but hadn't been able to do much.”

Which is a lie, if the qi transfer he received hadn't been able to do much, Ming Fan would have been in a much longer coma. Which also means that Luo Binghe most likely had transferred a truly monstrous amount of qi to help with the wound.

Suddenly, Ming Fan realized that the bowl he had been drinking out of was made out of bone. Hydra bones.

Due to the difficulty, and the level of skill demanded to kill a Hydra, its body part are considered to be priceless treasures, and only the best of the best were allowed to make anything with it. The fact that Luo Binghe had taken what most artisans would kill to obtain just one piece of, to make cups of all things…

Well, they don't exactly have a choice, the bones are very durable after all. 

Luo Binghe walked over with a delicious smelling bowl of soup, or is it only delicious because they hadn't been able to eat anything but jerky and rations for the past year of so? Ming Fan had never tasted Luo Binghe cooking before, despite having many chances to do so with the treats Ning Yingying would offer him. If he had known the Endless Abyss was what awaited him in a few years time, he would have taken it.

The soup is delicious, Ming Fan feels tempted to think that Luo Binghe added some mystical drug he randomly found with his god-tier luck to make it taste so good. The two sat and ate in a peaceful silence they had not experienced since before they fell in here.

Ming Fan looked at Luo Binghe, though the mark on his forehead was glowing brighter than ever—signifying that he had resorted to using his demonic powers to defeat the hydra, most likely. The younger suddenly looked closer to a docile lamb with the way he sat next to Ming Fan's makeshift bed, glancing at him every now and then—waiting for a reaction.

“It's good,” He said, “It's excellent.”

It is such a simple compliment, something a five-year-old would say to their parents—not a scholar of Qing Jing Peak. And yet Luo Binghe brightened all the same, looking like a sun in the dark red skies of the Abyss. The radiance of his smile is slowly starting to blind Ming Fan with the sheer amount of joy that it emitted.

“I'll cook more often then! And you don't need to work as much anymore. We'll keep moving, but I'll make sure we can take breaks in between and-” 

Abandoning his soup bowl, Luo Binghe started pacing around the dark cave they had made their shelter for the night. Counting and recounting whatever meager rations they had left, muttering about how he's going to pack everything, how they could avoid going against more monsters.

Ming Fan furrowed his brows, the kid is obviously not okay. He looks like the very definition of a perfect, pristine disciple, but his eyes are wild—deranged, even. He may not be an empath, but he can sense that Luo Binghe is in extreme psychological distress.

“Luo Binghe.”

“Shixiong! Lie down, you need to rest-”

“Luo Binghe!” Ming Fan lowered his voice at the sharp flinch, “I'll be fine. I may not be a Heavenly Demon, but I'm not fragile. It's fine, just sit down and finish your food.”

Luo Binghe protested, “But shixiong! What would happen if this happens again?! I'm not strong enough to protect the both of us! What if we die!?”

Ah, so it is guilt. 

“Don't worry, this shixiong is not some fragile maiden who needs to be protected,” Ming Fan took offense at the doubtful look the Heavenly Demon sent him, but decided against voicing his thoughts, “I can keep myself safe. Binghe should take care of himself in the meantime, get stronger.”

Against his better judgement, Ming Fan reached his hand to place a pat on the soft head of hair, “We'll be okay.”

Despite the red that appeared so very often within the Abyss, it is quite cold. The campfires they start are, more often than not, barely warm enough to keep them from shivering—not that they ever had much time to rest and enjoy its warmth either way. But tonight is different somehow.

“Luo Binghe, I understand that I'm injured,” Ming Fan talked slowly, keeping his voice as even and gentle as he could. Similar to how one would explain a particularly difficult concept to a child, “But this is very unnecessary.”

Except this is no child he is explaining to, it is an 19-year-old demon who insists that they should share the bed that night. 

“But shixiong,” Luo Binghe whined, “It's very cold, and I know the campfire are not warm enough. Plus, we can't move as much as we can before, or your injury will get worse!”

Ming Fan resisted the urge to sigh, ever since that day their relationship had turned from cold, both of them barely tolerating each other, to Luo Binghe becoming almost unbearably sticky. The demon is resolute in keeping Ming Fan in his field of vision at all times. 

“You know what! Fine! Fine, we'll sleep together. Happy now?!”

Luo Binghe couldn't get help the smug smile that crept up his face, still he tried, shixiong will be mad. He lied down and buried himself under the large mink fur blanket they had made, snuggling up against the other while being careful not to irritate his injuries even more.

He would be lying if he said he already let go of all his resentment towards his shixiong, years of abuse don't work that way. But Ming Fan had proven that he is not a bad person like he thought he was. 

He would not dare treat shizun like he does shixiong, but there's something calming in being able to act this way without fear of repercussions beyond having a cup thrown at his head  or being given the cold shoulder.

Luo Binghe had decided that he likes it better than the silence. Their arguments were no longer full of hate and poison, but mostly jabs about random and inconsequential things. Like him accidentally dropping shixiong's only clean shirt into the river and getting his food burnt slightly more than normal as a petty revenge (He got used to eating the bitter parts, shixiong is not a good cook).

Ming Fan eventually got annoyed at Luo Binghe's giggles and hit him in the head, lightly. It did not stop the Demon from laughing.

“Shut up, and let me sleep.”

“Okay,” Luo Binghe smile and cuddles even close if that's possible, “I'll be quiet.”

“… Shixiong?”

“What is it now?”

“I'll get us out of here, I promise.”