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Blood was pouring from his nose as he stumbled forwards, dripping onto the lapel of his robes and falling onto the floors already stained so many times over in blood. He couldn’t keep his eye from twitching in his skull, something having gotten knocked around out of place. It stank like copper, a smell he was so used to if need be he could pretend it wasn’t there anymore. Whatever it was xin mo had gotten him into, it ended with a bloody broken nose and him having no idea who had attacked him. He could only see a buff body before slashing xin mo and coming out here in his castle.
His arm hung limply at his side, the sword dragging against the ground with a screech as he moved slowly. With any luck, they were still here trying desperately to hide from him and he could still tear their arms off at the sockets, shove their own hands down their mouth and pull them out again on the other end. Breathing harshly, he lifted the arm he’d dislocated with a wet squelch to resheathed xin mo.
The sword wouldn’t go in right, his arm not bending the way he needed it too. Scoffing at his own bodies inability, he rolled his eyes and raised his other arm to audibly pop it back into place with a wet noise. He knew he’d done damage to them too, his sword would be screaming louder if he hadn’t. Besides, he could feel when he managed to catch their head with the blades face, a shame too, he could’ve lobbed half their skull off in one go. What he hadn’t been expecting from that fight though, was the fact he’d had to back off, for the first time in years he’d backed off an opponent.
He would have to kill them later, there couldn’t be someone like that hanging around. He could pull a move he knew well, human stick them, that might be too plain though. Of course, there was always the chance to try and dip them in acid. He’d heard tales of how bodies looked after being dipped, as though they were shriveled up and decomposed in seconds. Maybe it would look like they did when he drained people of blood–or, should he say, when xin mo drained them of blood. If nothing else, he knew Sha Hualing had been looking forwards to trying out their new fire pit, though he’d have to remember not to let Ning Yingying close. The idea brought a smile to his face as he turned a corner and heard his name called behind his back.
“Lord Luo, did you smell a shrunken flower? Were you too big before?” Stopping dead in his path, his mouth turned down as the words caught up to him. Turning sharply, he prepared to pull xin mo out once more before he caught sight of Liu Mingyan and Sha Hualing walking towards him and relaxed. Sha Hualing had her hands tucked against her perfect hips, steps even and sending small jingle noises echoing through the room. He loved those noises, they were even better when caused by him.
He couldn’t focus on that though as his eyes stared at the other woman. Liu Mingyan was dressed unlike her usual self in her old sect robes, even going so far as to still wear her veil in front of him. What, was she feeling nostalgic? Or…was this a thing? No, that couldn’t be, she wouldn’t be wandering around with Sha Hualing if it was. Unless? Seeing her with Sha Hualing was an odd sight but not entirely impossible. What was weird was how close together they were, leaving him to glance between the inch between them.
“Did lord Luo get in a fight?” Liu Mingyan asked, voice from beyond the veil.
“Oh, did you and your man fight again? He’s never resorted to blood but if that’s what you’re into. Ah, you gotta be more careful though, you’re too small right now to be getting beaten.” She sighed mournfully, leaving him to stare blankly at her as she started passing, her perfume wafting through the air behind her.
“Ming-Ming came to visit though, see! I told you the flowers would work!” The fucking what? Absently, he nodded and watched them pass him, turning to chat at one another and ignoring him as though he was not their lord and husband. She didn’t even do her hip swing, she always did the hip swing.
What the hell were–did she say man? No, he must’ve simply misunderstood what she’d said. Turning, he went to continue along his way. Whatever weird crap was going on with them, he would deal their punishments later, he wanted to find Qin Wanyue. Of all his wives, she was the one he knew would take care of him fully right now, she always did. Her warm touch was always so gentle and considerate of h–
“Binghe?” What now? Was Shen Qingqiu about to step out and berate him or something? Turning sharply, he met the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen in his life. They were dark and beautifully framed by silky black hair around their face, captured his soul at once. None of his current wives looked like this, none of them had these eyes, these beautiful, absolutely rapturing eyes. His breath paused in his lungs as he stared at them, their eyes searching between both of his for a second before narrowing.
“What did you do? Did Binghe smell a shrunken flower?” Why did people keep bringing that up? Blinking, he brought himself back to his body enough to look them over fully and his face darkened the second he did so as his hand which hadn’t moved from xin mo’s hilt tightened. How the hell was this man here? Had he–no, that was impossible.
He had destroyed Shen Qingqiu completely and utterly, no chance of the man returning. He’d taken his arms and burned them, thrown his legs into a lake, ran a spear through his mouth and out the other end, scattered his very soul. Yet here he was, in front of Luo Binghe like he deserved to breath the same air as him and looking at him like he’d never done a damn thing to be tortured for. He looked wrong though, Luo Binghe remembered the man’s eyes, remembered the scowl, this wasn’t–it didn’t match. If it did, he wouldn’t have been distracted by them.
It had been years now since he’d killed the man, could it had been so long he’d forgotten what he looked like? No no the man’s face was–it was burned into his memory, no way could he have forgotten it. He spent so long ripping him to tiny shreds, that should be impossible. Maybe he did though, otherwise this–none if it was making sense. Not in the way it was supposed to.
“Binghe, what happened,” the asshole spoke again, reaching out to touch Luo Binghe’s face as though he would let him touch his face with those dirty things. Why would–Shen Qingqiu would never do that. No matter what happened he would never willingly touch Luo Binghe unless to beat him senseless–even then, he’d just use the whip. Could he have been dreaming? No, he was a god over dreams, his mind would not bring this up.
Why the hell would Shen Qingqiu still be alive though. He had been fighting with xin mo, and he’d possibly lost to the assailant who could’ve been…himself? No, the realms didn’t work like that, why would that be now? Of course, the realms had never before experienced him fighting himself, the most powerful demon in existence. It only made sense, the only reason he’d lost the upper hand for even a second was because it had been himself.
He planted his feet in place and fought against the urge to grab and break the man’s arm, letting the other reach up and touch his face. It didn’t end in the sting of a slap, nor the throb of a punch, but in the soft and gentle touch of a hand sliding onto his cheek and rubbing away at the blood probably splattered there. He confirmed it to be a non threatening touch, even when Shen Qingqiu pulled his hand back and cussed it didn’t seem threatening. Luo Binghe could only blink at the noise, never having heard the man say a swear word so naturally. When he ranted about the Cang Qiong sect leader? Yeah. When insulting someone behind their back? Sure. Cussing Luo Binghe out? Absolutely. But so naturally? As if this was a common occurrence? If nothing else this confirmed him to be somewhere else.
“I told Binghe not to hurt himself,” he said like he’d actually told Luo Binghe to do anything, like he could.
“Come on, I don’t know where anything is here and I have stuff in the bamboo house.” He reached over and grabbed Luo Binghe’s hand and tugged him along, pulling him towards a figure he knew well. Without a word, Mobei-jun looked up and opened the portal, continuing to walk as they passed. He glared at the others back as he continued to drag Luo Binghe away. He’d have to punish him for his insubordination later, how dare he assume to know what Luo Binghe had wanted?
He was dragged through and into a house he knew well before he could ever think to say a word, blinking and finding himself in another place altogether. His feet stopped moving soon as the man let go of his hand, eyes gazing around the area. He’d never been in here, not since the pouring incident anyways. It was cute, clean, and it made him want to destroy everything in sight.
Carefully, he stepped around the room, picking up random things and holding them up into the moonlight provided through windows. It would be day soon anyways. The fans he knew he’d burned years ago sat proudly along the wall, pillows and papers scattered around like they belonged there. Paintings with elegant brush marks covered the walls, as well as worse ones with Shen Qingqiu in them, the style ranging from a toddlers ability to a professional.
The one his eyes stopped on was across the way above a table with a bowl of wrapped candies. It had the man he was assuming to be Shen Qingqiu in it dead center, and Luo Binghe by his side, tucked over the man like he could stand being around him. Whoever had done it had taken their own ideas to the page, his body thicker than it had ever been, like there were muscles atop his muscles.
Luo Binghe scoffed at it, un attaching his sword from his waist and settling it onto the ground by the short table. Rising back up, he heard the footsteps approaching before he saw them as he looked back towards the painting and copied the look to his face. It wasn’t hard, he just had to think of his wives when he first met them.
Shen Qingqiu entered the room again with a pill in one hand and a wet towel in the other, gesturing for Luo Binghe to sit. Stupidly, he did and was met with the other kneeling down in front of him with his hand held out offering the pill. The mere idea of taking anything the man offered to him made him want to spit in his face, the urge to gag coming up the second he ate the thing. His act seemed to convince the other though as he raised the towel to Luo Binghe’s head and started wiping away the blood from his few already healing injuries.
“You are attempting to end my life early,” he muttered in such a fond voice Luo Binghe nearly reeled back. He didn’t, only flinching slightly and pretending the action was due to the cold towel touching his face. The movement went unnoticed as the other lowered the rag to reach over and grab at his wrist, holding it gently as he felt Luo Binghe’s spiritual veins. He carefully slowed them to what would be considered good when the other did as much. While Shen Qingqiu was focused on him, he was focusing on Shen Qingqiu.
Was he always this small? In his mind the man was ten feet tall with nothing but a snarl to his face, a look that was replaced in time with well earned fear as Luo Binghe subjected him to being a human stick living in a pot. This one though, he wasn’t doing anything the other him did, handling Luo Binghe like he was precious, as though he wouldn’t let him be hurt by anything. His eyelashes were long, face angular and nothing but lovely. With how he looked now, he could understand why people used to call him beautiful like jade, even felt a touch of jealousy at this other supposed Binghe who got to see this every day. He leaned back after certain everything with Luo Binghe was alright, sighing lightly as his shoulders fell.
“That’s good, whatever it was you took to be so…small…it didn’t seem to effect your meridians. Binghe seems to be okay.” Did he not have full confidence in his Binghe? What kind of fool did he take him for if he couldn’t do a simple fight. He’d opened his mouth to say as much when the other started to climb back to his feet, halfway on his knees when he reached over to hold Luo Binghe’s face, pulling him closer to gently kiss his forehead. Soft lips pressed against the exact spot he knew his demon mark was, not treating it like an excuse for pain, instead kissing it like a blessing. Then, he stood up and walked away like that wasn’t the most domestic physical touch Luo Binghe had ever received without the giver also going for sex.
He was left there, still sitting, staring off into nothing as the reality of what had happened caught up to him. Slowly, his hand raised of it’s own accord to feel at the spot the others lips had been. Shen Qingqiu had…kissed him. On the forehead. Of his own decision and with such ease Luo Binghe knew this was a common occurrence. The footsteps disappeared again and left him alone.
Why would he–why would Shen Qingqiu of all people touch Luo Binghe so casually? It didn’t, that wasn’t making sense. No matter what realm he was in, no matter the world, no Shen Qingqiu was a good man, he stood by that. Until now at least. Even after the other had came back into the room, he was still just sitting there like an idiot, of which he was not.
“All’s well at least, Airplane told me sect leader wanted to see me later anyways. You coming with?” Sect leader? Was he referring to Yue Qingyuan? The fool who died for Shen Qingqiu without a word? That pathetic man was still around? He still remembered setting the trap for his death, laughing as he watched the man be pierced by a thousand arrows. His blood had stained the platform for weeks, and nothing compared to Shen Qingqiu’s face when he watched it happen. As much as it made Luo Binghe want to laugh to see the man look him in the eye without knowing he killed him, he very much didn’t like looking at the man in front of him.
“No,” he said plainly. He received an odd look for his reply but the other shrugged anyways, walking over to the wall and taking up a familiar fan. As he turned to walk towards the door, something had him stopping. Just when he thought he might be free, the other turned to him and settled a hand against Luo Binghe’s forehead, again, like he had any right. If he wasn’t so shocked by the movement, he would’ve cut the others hand off.
“Binghe’s sure he’d alright?”
“Of course,” he replied, stiffness fading from his voice as he spoke. He was not only willingly touching Luo Binghe, he’d cleaned off his face as well, and the kiss? What the hell was he trying to prove? That he could care? Well, he wasn’t about to believe that. No matter what realm or portal this place was, there was not a world that could exist where Shen Qingqiu actually…where he actually cared for Luo Binghe. If there was, it would’ve been his own, not whoever else was here’s.
Soon as the door clicked shut, Luo Binghe rose to his feet and walked out behind him into the day as the sun started hitting the peak. The other was already atop his sword and riding away. If nothing else, the Xui ya sword meant it could only be Shen Qingqiu who treated him so kindly.
He never thought he might forget the others face enough to think he was beautiful upon first meeting. Damn himself. He’d have to break something soon or he might actually go crazy.
He turned away from the others disappearing figure, walking out and around the peak he knew every section of, no matter the time that may have passed. It was beautiful, and he still remembered how it looked burning. The memory of it’s orange glow reflected in his eyes as he moved around the peak, footsteps slow and even as the sun continued rising above him. It smelt so good at the time too, smoke permeating through the air for weeks, he could even smell it on himself for months afterwards and even got complaints from some of his wives for it, though there was a good portion of them who liked the smell.
It was his own fault to be fair. He was the one who stayed and watched the entire time it burned, watched figures try to escape only to collapse, watched until the mountain was nothing more than a barren land then watched again when the abyss opened onto it. It was beautiful chaos, forever there behind his eyes. Whenever he had trouble sleeping, he’d pull up the image of the flames, watch them dance behind his eyes…
“Luo-shidi?” A sweet voice called out from behind him, a smile already on his face as he turned to look at her. Ning Yingying was frowning at him, her outfit not the one Luo Binghe had been expecting but the uniform of Qing Jing. Had he not swept her to safety yet? Also, what was with the muscle he could see on her. Her sword by her side wasn’t a delicate thing, something that would need significant strength just to lift. Could she actually manage to hold it? What if she hurt herself with it?
“Yingying,” he greeted lightly, smile still on his face as he prepared to offer to carry the sword. It had to be someone else’s, she was probably just being nice and trying to get it to them. He didn’t get the chance to offer though as he saw her reaction. She shivered at the name, not in pleasure as he’d grown used to, but disgust as she frowned at him, shifting her body away from view as one of her hands strayed to the hilt of the sword.
“Why don’t you call me Ning-shijie.” What?
“Sorry?”
“It’s alright,” she replied like he was apologizing for calling her name so familiarly, shoulders relaxing slightly as she shook her head, small smile on her face.
“Lord Luo must be busy with negotiations still, I apologize for interrupting. This Ning-shijie will be on her way.” Without another word, she waved to him and kept moving, hand on the hilt of what could only be her sword, leaving him standing there like chump. Negotiation? Why would he ever need to negotiate with anyone, all he needed to do was show up and they would be forced to back down. No one would ever do anything but give him what he wanted, whether it be beautiful woman or men offering their connections.
Scoffing at nothing, he turned to go back. Any good mood he’d had left him as he entered back through the bamboo house and glared around the place. Why would that man bring him here of all places anyways, it wasn’t like they were friends. He refused to believe that, there was no world where he would ever–he would never stoop so low!
Stomping through the house, he’d planned to catch something aflame, destroy it, break everything if need be. Then he stepped into the room Shen Qingqiu slept in and froze. He’d never been in here before, only watched as the whole house burned behind him. It was smaller than he thought it would be, comfortable enough for two to live in and no more, not reflecting the overblown nature of the man who lived there. Something wasn’t adding up though.
The bed could fit two but he’d figured it would be big. Again though, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was there were two pillows on it, one to many for the amount of people who should’ve been staying there. Why would he have two pillows? Why would he bring Luo Binghe here of all places when discovering he was injured? An idea started to form in his mind, one he knew would be easy to prove.
Numbly he walked over to the wardrobe and opened it. Inside was two sets of clothes, one much too small for him to wear comfortably and in the wrong colors, the other much too big to be expecting Shen Qingqiu to be wearing out in public. Thoughtlessly, he’s reached out to feel the fabric of a light green one beneath his fingers. Soon as he did, the sound of the front door opening again reached his ears and he looked in the direction it came from, already aware of exactly who it was.
Taking his time, he shut the door to the wardrobe and sauntered over to the center of the room with his hands folded behind his back. He couldn’t be sure, there was still a chance it wasn’t…he had another way to prove it was. He didn’t answer any of the other man’s calls for him as he heard the other go through every other room in the house before arriving in his own bedroom.
His panicked look faded to something more nervous as he looked to Luo Binghe in the center of the room, not having the brains enough to not enter after seeing such a sight, his sword no longer even hung on his waist. What a fool, showing up with no weaponry as though he could win without the upper hand of having a weapon and Luo Binghe having nothing. To make it painfully clear, even if Shen Qingqiu had his sword, he wouldn’t win.
“What’s going on?” He spoke calmly, moving towards Luo Binghe and not taking his eyes off his face. If they truly were what Luo Binghe thought they were, it was easy to prove. Soon as he was within range, Luo binghe reached up and grabbed the sides of the others face, pulling him towards himself and ducking his own face to press his lips against the other. Calling it a kiss might be an insult to his past experiences, if only because there was no love in the movement, but the other only let out a startled cry before his shoulders, which had tensed up far enough to bump Luo Binghe’s hands, fell away. His eyes shut as he deepened the kiss, invading the others mouth with his tongue as the other let him do as he pleased to him. So, he was correct then.
Of course, that would explain why he was willing to bring Luo Binghe here, why he took care of him. This Shen Qingqiu, whoever he was, Luo Binghe was allowed to touch him. If nothing else the way he easily melted into the touch proved it. As though all the bones had left his body, Shen Qingqiu lifted his face to Luo Binghe and allowed him into his mouth without argument, lifting a hand to cup Luo Binghe’s face much like he had when kissing his forehead. The touch was as soft as before, the smallest touch of his skin lighting a fire in the pit of Luo Binghe’s stomach. Why was this one someone else’s? Why didn’t he get this one? He wanted this one, why couldn’t he have it?
He could pretend so easily this was his Shen Qingqiu, the one who spit on him and called him beast, monster, bastard, it would take little effort to do so. The thought to do so barely crossed his mind before he let go of the others face, only to lower his hands down the others body, feeling the way he arched into the touch like no one else. This was his shizun, the man who spat at him and called him a beast, yet even he ached for Luo Binghe’s touch, enough to press his other hand to Luo Binghe’s face and pull him closer.
He could feel something pressing against his leg and smirked into the kiss, pressing further against the others body. Well then, if it was Luo Binghe he wanted, then who could blame him if he acted? It wasn’t his fault the other wanted him, the only one to blame was his shizun for not realizing who he was. Lowering his hands further he cupped the others ass in his hands and lifted the other up, pressing him further against Luo Binghe’s front, only layers of clothes separating them.
The move startled the other enough he let out a small squawk against his lips. He didn’t try to stop him though, moving his arms to latch themselves around Luo Binghe’s neck, the sound of his fan clattering to the ground reaching Luo Binghe’s ears a second after the movement.
He knew deep down the reason he was allowing Luo Binghe this close was the assumption he was his own Binghe, but he also couldn’t care less, content in basking in the others attention until he could use him dry of affection and dispose of him then. Hell, he might even keep him around after that, let the man truly know and understand his own mistakes. He could see it now, the other grasping at sheets screaming at him and sobbing while Luo Binghe was above him only to enjoy the experience. He couldn’t fight back against him of all people anyways, what was wrong with having a little fun from it?
For now he simply planned to ravish him, unravel him, and fully work him until he wanted only Luo Binghe instead of his own Binghe. Still fully pressed against the other, he walked them towards the bed with it’s two pillows and slept in sheets. Dumping him down, he got to watch the look of surprise cross his face as his back hit the bed, letting out a small breath from the movement. He didn’t give him a moment to catch his breath though, kneeling down between his legs a moment later.
“Hold on–“ Luo Binghe leaned over him, trapping the other between his arms as he smirking as he lowered his head, grabbing the others chin in his hand and tilting his face back up. His lips no longer yielded under Luo Binghe’s, pressed tightly together as he raised his hands and lightly pushed him back as though that’s all it would take to move his own Binghe. Luo Binghe complied with the movement if only so he could look coldly down at him after doing so. How dare he not give in to what he wanted?
“Hold your–“ Something crossed over the others face then as he stared up, his slight confusion fading right into panic as his eyes widened. He pulled a hand back to try and strike at Luo Binghe, a movement he easily caught in the process, trapping Shen Qingqiu’s wrist against his other hand, taking care of that possible issue.
That look was gone though, the kind beautiful eyes he had only just started to enjoy replaced with squints and a frown. Oh well. It would only be a small catch in his overall plans.
“How did you get here,” he demanded without questioning who Luo Binghe was, as though he already knew who he was. Interesting.
“How might you have known who this one was.” The body beneath him stayed silent, pretty mouth carefully shut against Luo Binghe’s question.
“Not talking?” He said, voice carefully low despite the otherwise pleasant smile still on his face. “Come on, you can tell me, how could you have known who I w–“
Before he could finish, something was flung at his face. Reeling back, he caught the handle to his own sword, snapping his head over to face the person who threw it. Soon as his eyes met the thrower, he could easily guess how Shen Qingqiu had guessed who he was; as well as he could guess why so many people had mentioned a shrunken flower.
His own face was staring back at him cold and angry, but the robes he wore were nothing like what Luo Binghe wore, black with silver and red trimming, delicate flowery details along the edges and a green gem settled right in the center of his chest. If that didn’t give it away, the fact half his chest was on display would, along with the clear defined muscles definitely did. He stared at Luo Binghe like he was less than a bug in his path and it both made his heart pound and made him want to slice his throat on xin mo’s blade. Though, that second part might have just been xin mo talking.
Sinking back onto his heels, he gripped the sword in his hand, assuming it to be the others for a moment before going to summon his own and finding it already in his hand. The other Binghe wasn’t wearing a sword, where was his? Come to think of it, the entire time he’d been there no one mentioned anything about a sword, and Mobei-Jun had been the one to open the portal without thinking whether he needed it or not.
“Is shizun alright,” he spoke, not taking his eyes off Luo Binghe but not acknowledging him beyond that. A sharp kick came to his side and he nearly fell off the bed as his head snapped over and watched Shen Qingqiu attempt to climb off the bed without his saying he could.
Soon as his hand reached out to grab at his robes, the man spun around not just dodging out of the way but also managing to knock his arm away and stand up. If nothing else, it was an impressive move to pull itself. Knocked off trajectory, he nearly fell forwards when another caught his arm and ripped him away. His whole body was jerked around as he looked up to glare at whoever dared to grab him. His eyes met the other Binghe immediately, and his grip on his own sword tightened as he grit his teeth.
***
Groaning, Binghe continued walking down the hallway stretching before him. His legs hurt, and so did his arms and he’d had to redo the joint in his wrist a few seconds ago. At least his head had stopped bleeding, it would worry Shen Yuan to see him hurt. That freak, how dare he attack Binghe like he had any right, scrawny little man.
Shen Yuan had told him about the original contents of the book Binghe was from, had told him about the original Shen Qingqiu. Binghe no longer connected the faces, in his mind Shen Yuan would never do those actions and he could no longer picture Shen Qingqiu as Shen Jiu. Shen Yuan never poured tea on Binghe’s head, never had him tied up to be whipped, never pushed the other disciples to nearly kill him. If anything, he healed Binghe with medicine, helped stop the bullying. He was good to Binghe, the memories long since dismissed from his mind and replaced with better ones.
Even then he…he still sobbed the entire night when he learned all the other Luo Binghe did. He worked so hard to fix it all, to merge the realms–no, to help them, to make relations for his god better, he worked so hard. The other him had done nothing but slaughter and have mindless sex with anything that moved, love only existing in the form of lust. Even the thought of all he’d done made Binghe angry enough to break something.
Reaching up instead, he wiped away the blood starting to dry from the wound on his head. His room would have pills to fix it, and hopefully it would also have Shen Yuan who would fix it even more. He wanted to see his god right now, longed to be held in the others arms and to have his wounds cleaned by someone else other than him.
Shouldering the door into his room, he rubbed at his eyes as his shoulders fell. He could hear someone shifting around on the bed and figured Shen Yuan must still be asleep. It was early anyways, and he had meant to join the other on the bed the night before but news had come about Mobei’s uncle and he was needed to settle things and he’d just been trying to get back to Shen Yuan when that asshole had come from nowhere and attacked him for no good reason. Bastard.
Reaching into his drawer, he pulled out the necessary pill and downed it at once, feeling the relief of it’s effects immediately. Breathing in, he turned around with a tired smile only to freeze a moment later.
Had he…had he accidentally ended up in the wrong room? Had he just taken some random woman’s pills? No, not random, had he just taken Sha Hualing’s pills? She was laying atop the bed, blankets barely covering any of her body and laying in a way Binghe could clearly tell was purposeful. Oh, it was worse than randomly wandering into her room by accident, he wandered in when she was expecting Liu Mingyan. Frozen where he stood, he stared wide eyed at her as she opened her eyes and smiled coquettishly at him.
“Lord Luo,” she sighed out and he went even tenser. “You look tense. Why don’t you join this one in relaxing–“
“You’re cheating on Liu Mingyan,” he burst out, hands clenching as he stared wide eyed at her. Her eyes blinked from what was supposed to be sexy to confused as he spoke.
“What.”
“Are you insane? Liu Mingyan is not just incredibly strong, she can also already do better than you.”
“Wait hang on–“ shaking his head, he walked back towards the door and exited before clicking it shut again and stopping. Wait. She’d just invited Binghe to her bed. She’d not just tried to cheat on Liu Mingyan but have Binghe cheat with her.
Rage grew in his chest as he glared back at the door, flipping his sleeves a second later and stomping off. How disrespectful. He would take away any control she had over her territories later, he needed to tell Shen Yuan about this. Along the way, he turned a corner and nearly ran headfirst into Mobei’s chest, stopping a moment before making contact to look up at him.
“Mobei, good, Qinghua will be back in two days and I will need to know if you’re taking time for that.” Instead of answering him, the other narrowed his eyes to Binghe.
“My lord…who?” Blanking, he stared up at the man.
“Qinghua?” He tried again to no avail. “Shang Qinghua, your manservant? The man you’ve proposed to four times a day for the past seven years without him knowing? I know it’s been two weeks since he left but you made the choice yourself to send him back to Cang Qiong alone.”
“My lord, are you speaking of the previous An Ding peak master?” Stopping dead in his words, Binghe stared at the other with an open mouth.
“What do you mean previous,” he demanded, well aware sect leader Yue had never taken the role away from the man. Nothing terrible could have happened to him, Mobei would be angrier, so what was with the casual dismissal of his servant? Did he decide Qinghua wasn’t worth it? If so, Binghe would have to intervene. After so many years working together, he quite liked and appreciated the man for his work, they hadn’t had such a proficient worker in clearing the archives ever.
“My lord, you killed him when you first became a demon lord?”
“No? I didn’t? I like the squirrel of a man? I already told you I wouldn’t intervene in your relationship?” They stood across from one another staring at each other like the other was insane. Why would he kill Shang Qinghua? He would admit the man could be too much some times but he did good work and he was his gods friend, automatically moving him up on the ‘do not kill’ list he was already on for years before learning he was friends with Shen Yuan.
Soon as his senses started to come back to him, his eyes skipped off the ice demon in front of him and onto the woman’s face that appeared by his arm as she started to walk past without any acknowledgment. He didn’t recognize her at first, sunken cheeks and wardrobe clearly meant to only show off instead of for comfort not fitting anyone under his employment, nor the lack of weaponry. He couldn’t mistake those eyes though.
“Ning-shijie?” She stopped at her name, eyes searching over them and skipping right off him before circling back. A tiny ounce of life returned to her eyes as they widened at seeing him, slowly raising off his chest and up to his face.
“A-Luo? Why do you call this one shijie?” Why would he not call her that? What’s more, why would she possibly be in his castle? They were in the demon realm and as much as he respected her power, he knew most people preferred not to come here if there was no reason to do so and she certainly had no reason for it, especially without her sword.
“How did you get here? Did you come with Liu Mingyan? Did the flowers actually work?” He wanted to warn Liu Mingyan about Sha Hualing, he hadn’t expected to see Ning Yingying down here as well. The brief idea she came with Liu Mingyan lead him to asking before he realized it made no sense. The woman wouldn’t bring another with her coming down here for Sha Hualing, nor would Ning Yingying ever be caught outside in such robes.
“Why would I come with Mingyan? And since when is A-Luo so…” she trailed off, her eyes once more finding way to his chest. What was so important about his jade necklace she kept looking at it. His god had given it back soon as they’d gotten out from the holy mausoleum so long ago. Again, Binghe had broke down crying when given it. Not important though, why was she staring at it.
“Muscled,” she then continued and he stopped. What? Why was everyone acting as though this was an odd appearance for him? He’d looked this way since before the abyss, it wasn’t new. He even looked like this, if not a little shorter, when he was on Qing Jing peak. The only time he looked even slightly smaller was the years he’d had xin mo and he was ninety percent certain she hadn’t seen him once in those years. Shaking his head, he went to answer when something by his arm caught his gaze.
He’d elected to ignore it before then, assuming it was some kind of painting. It wasn’t, it was a window, the world outside glowing a dull orange and mashed together with something else, something wrong. The sun and moon were nearly straight across from him and so wrong he could feel in his bones this wasn’t some terrible dream. His stomach sank as he stared out it.
“Ning-shijie,” he started, turning his head slowly to look back at her. “Are you perhaps married to Luo Binghe?” He could’ve said it a little less bluntly he was sure, but judging by her lack of surprise, he guessed right.
“Why would A-Luo ask that? Of course we are–“ cussing, looked back at the ice demon who had watched the exchange between them with rapt attention.
“You’re serving the person who killed Qinghua in front of you, and you just let him? You’re smarter than that.” He knew from his god this Shang Qinghua was different than theirs, but the anger of hearing the man was killed had him spitting the words out without care. Mobei didn’t say anything, tilting his head and looking over Binghe again, apparently only now noticing he was the wrong person. He didn’t act on anything though, perhaps guessing if he looked this alright after fighting the other Luo Binghe that he’d be able to take him with or without a sword.
“A-Luo what are you-“ he looked back at Ning Yingying almost panicked, her lack of a sword freaking him out more than anything, moving carefully to give her the most honest look he could achieve, receiving her whole attention.
“Ning-shijie, you’re better than this.” With that he turned away from them and started back down the hall. How could he have been so stupid, of course everything was weird, he wasn’t home anymore. It had to be the cause of that fake Luo Binghe, nothing else made any sense.
Stomping back where he’d come from, he searched the area for something, anything really he could use. He could feel the weird pulse of whatever had brought him here, but it was fading, though not rapidly, it was still fading. The reason it had opened in the first place had been the fact he and the other him were fighting, one with xin mo, him with raw spiritual energy and absolute anger.
He knew Shen Yuan had told him how powerful that sword was, but he also thought the thing was overrated. He still thought that, but it’s nuisance scale quickly rose a level which he thought would be impossible seeing as he didn’t even have the damned thing anymore. Yet, here he was. Deciding it was even worse than before.
Without the sword or other him, there wasn’t a very large number of things he could do, and he didn’t have the luxury of going out and trying to find other solutions when the weak point was starting to fix itself without his wanting it to. Bitting his lip, he squinted at it. Punching it with spiritual force wouldn’t be enough to get it right, not with one punch at least. It would open the hole, but only enough for his fist to travel through and he rather liked having two arms. Even if it would grow back, he’d still need it if he were to fight Luo Binghe again. He’d have to use some kind of human catapult to launch his whole body through while activating his spiritual energy if he wanted to try that way.
Some days he regretted not getting another sword, if only because he couldn’t try and spar Shen Yuan very well with a wooden one, and the man wouldn’t let his sword skills go rusty no matter how much Binghe insisted he wouldn’t get another sword. However, if he had a sword, even a weaker one, he might’ve been able to slash through and fall through that way, human catapult unnecessary. He didn’t have a sword though, all he had was himself and this stupid realm with nothing the same as–wait. This was his castle, no matter the realm, he was the one who decided on the plans and the room with Sha Hualing had definitely been his, which meant he designed it. Halfway to breaking something, he turned and walked back to his room, storming in and finding Sha Hualing still sitting there in a daze, clutching at the sheets barely covering her body.
“Lord Luo? Since when were you so…buff?” He payed her no mind and went further into the space, emerging again a moment later with six different swords he found in the others collection. When he’d made his room in the castle, he thought about one of the extended rooms being a weapons room before deciding it could instead be used for any spillover if his god needed a bigger closet, especially considering he’d never actually gotten anymore swords after xin mo.
It ended up being the spill over closet back home too, but he doubted this Luo Binghe bothered thinking of anyone but himself enough for that, which meant there would be swords in there. Lo and behold they were, and he stomped his way back out despite her calling out to him again, arriving where he’d come from and pulling out the first one.
He’d grabbed six different ones, two ice, one fire, a mist sword, one for ghosts, and a plain one he wasn’t entirely sure what could do. He’d slashed the ice and fire ones first, all three breaking on the first slash and wasting a significant amount of his time and energy. Why was he even bothering to collect the stupid things if they couldn’t stand Binghe’s energy.
Next, he attempted to use the one he didn’t know anything on. Soon as it slashed, the point pulsed and he dived through without thinking, only stopping long enough to drop the blade before coming out on the other side in a roll, startling some of the passing disciples who witnessed Binghe appearing from nothing in a roll into letting out cries. Turns out, it was a portals sword. Who’d have guessed.
Soon as he stopped rolling, he gazed up and at the bamboo house in relief. Breathing out, he carefully pushed himself up and onto his feet again and started towards it, paying no mind to the disciples still frozen off to his side no matter how many of them made little noises at his appearance. He couldn’t care less what they thought of him, instead smiling at the familiar sight of his and Shen Yuan’s home–one of them anyways.
“Lord Luo?” Blinking, he removed his gaze from the home and found himself looking at Ning Yingying, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her sword as she squinted at him. She looked nothing like her counterpart, cheeks full and toned muscle clear along her arms. If nothing else, this made him relax into his normal arrogance. Raising his hands in a salute, he greeted her cheerfully.
“Ning-shijie.”
“Weren’t you just smaller? Did the effects of something wear off?” The more she spoke the more blood drained from his face. Without answering her, he turned back to the house, hoping against all odds she was somehow wrong but knowing she never was.
His god had mentioned needing to meet with the sect leader the day before, maybe he was still there, safe and sound. Yesterday was supposed to be their last day in the demon realm for a week or two. It hadn’t worked as he wanted it to, but at least he was home and Shen Yuan was–he was…safe…?
Soon as he walked in, his eyes caught on a dark splotch on the floor, it’s aura fluctuating through the entire room, one he knew well. Eyes flashing, he slowly walked over to it and grabbed the hilt to the sword he’d thrown in an underground lake years ago and stared at it.
It invaded his mind soon as his fingers scrapped against it, screaming at him, it’s voice filling his head with nonsense. Deadpan, he raised his other hand and slapped it. It went quiet then, and he lowered it out of his line of sight.
Walking slowly, his heart pounded in his chest as he hoped he was seeing things, that everything was fine. Then, he pushed the door open and his eyes fell on a form that would’ve looked like him if he’d never lifted a sword once in his life.
He was leaning over Binghe’s god, hands trapping Shen Yuan in place and leering at him like he had any right. His god didn’t look scared, or even worried, he looked pissed. Binghe had no doubt in a few more seconds he’d have maimed the man atop him with ease, and he would’ve watched him do so with delight.
Second the sound of his voice entered Binghe’s ears though, he felt the undying urge to kill and threw the sword straight at him. It may have been his voice, but nothing about it was his own. If only the others response time was worse, the blade would have gone through his head. A pity he backed away though, leaving Binghe no choice but to beat him bloody for daring to defile his god himself.
***
A body was suddenly thrown through the still open door, hanging limply in the air like a rag doll for a moment yet managing to barely land on their feet at the last second. The students who had previously been passing by started towards them, stopping a safe distance away when Luo Binghe straightened back up, gritting his teeth and adjusting his grip on the sword again.
“Luo-shidi?” One of them muttered, drawing the man in questions attention over to them.
“Shut i–“
Before he could finish, Binghe stepped out of the bamboo house, head held high and disgust splashed across his features. Small intakes of breath could be heard going around the group as his focus shifted back onto Binghe.
“Thank god it wasn’t him who called me Yingying,” he heard Ning Yingying mutter as she stepped in front of the younger disciples and drew her sword. Soon as she’d said it, Binghe realized he’d need to get her a gift basket or something nice for what other him had decided was an appropriate thing to say to his shijie. He’d have to do that later though, there was a man who needed some humbling.
“You still need a sword to fight,” he jeered, “Pathetic.”
“Is the buff one Luo Binghe…?” He heard one of the disciples mutter with red cheeks, their gaze shifting between the two of them. Too be fair, he’d seen a few of them out and about when he came here to visit his god in the place he called his house after speaking with their sect leader, and he knew they’d seen him before. However, he was only now realizing the fact he hadn’t exactly spoken to any of them in years now. The need hadn’t arisen and he didn’t really like any of them, beyond Ning Yingying who he now owed a lovely food basket. Probably had to do handmade too.
Stepping forwards again, he raised his hand to strike at the other when a hand was stuck out in front of him, halting his movements. He recognized the hand easily enough as his gods and didn’t fight it’s command as his god took it back, keeping his eyes solely on the man in front of them.
“You’ll get blood in my grass,” the other sighed at him, shaking his head mockingly.
“Would shizun rather this one gives up?”
“Binghe wouldn’t be able to do that if he tried,” he responded, smiling over to him. He returned the smile with ease, clearly annoying the last member of their fight.
“I can hear you.” They ignored him.
“Keep the area clean is all,” his god tried again, the second he finished Binghe nodded.
“This one understands.”
“Somehow I doubt it.”
“He’ll do his best to destroy the other without causing damage.”
“There it is. That’s not what I meant–“ without letting him finish, Binghe shot forwards once more, grabbing the front lapels of the man and spinning around, hurling him towards Bai Zhan peak soon as he’d gathered the momentum. Soon as he let go, he went to launch himself after him, hearing before leaving sight the slap of shizun running his forehead into his palm. That was fair, if Binghe could choose he’d end the man right then and there, but they were the same power wise, which meant this might drag out.
Stopping, he turned to look to his god and offered a hand. Shen Yuan shook his head but took it, pulling out Xui Ya and lifting himself and Binghe onto it. Before leaving, he addressed the group who hadn’t stopped staring since Binghe had appeared.
“Do not leave Qing Jing. Ning Yingying-“
“I’ll watch them, shizun.”
“Good, you’re my backup if Binghe fails.”
“A-Yuan,” he whined quietly, going ignored beyond the patting of his hand. Then, they were moving.
“Who is he,” he asked when they were out of hearing range.
“I’m assuming the original story Luo Binghe. I didn’t even know he still existed…” Binghe frowned, tightening his hold around the others torso.
“How did he even come here,” Shen Yuan muttered in front of him where Binghe was holding onto his waist. “Plot convenience maybe?”
“This one thought A-Yuan said the original plot had ended?”
“This worlds different, I don’t actually know if it will ever ‘End’ because we aren’t a book plot anymore.”
“Good. A-Yuan’s too good for that.” He heard the other snort as they neared the mountain, Binghe leaping off the sword first to face the other. Luo Binghe hadn’t lost the snarl as he continued looking at Binghe–well, staring at Binghe’s chest, for some reason. Actually, he understood why, the man across from him was little more than a shrimp, skinny and no good for anything but blindly swinging a sword.
Soon as he took stock of this, the other had shot out at him, wielding the sword Binghe wanted nothing more than to break without a second thought. He countered every attack he could, dodging away when he couldn’t.
It wasn’t hard to catch the others torso and legs, he was guarded against sword attacks, not Binghe going and punching the ever loving crap out of him. He couldn’t get the upper hand though, no matter how hard he tried to do so, he couldn’t manage to do anything but keep fighting, gaining cuts and bruises along the way. The other wasn’t getting it either though and Binghe realized they’d be stuck in this stalemate until they stopped fighting or–
Tiny blades rushed past his face, his body unconsciously dodging away. It didn’t matter though, they weren’t aimed at him and soon as he stopped long enough to see what was being thrown, he realized they were little leaves sent by a body who had landed behind Binghe.
Luo Binghe had tried to defend against them without thinking, temporarily forgetting about Binghe until, of course, he kicked the sword free of his hands and caught it’s hilt in his own, aiming the edge of it at the others throat. Around them the leaves stopped, all pointing downwards in a circle towards the other like a deadly wreath.
“Take your sword and return to your realm,” Shen Yuan commanded besides Binghe, head held high as he fanned himself with a fan Binghe didn’t remember him grabbing. The picture of pure regality though, that was his god.
“And should I refuse–“
“You’ll be giving this one the pleasure of ending you right now.” He grit his teeth, raising his head up to look at Binghe and glance between him and shizun.
“Why do you get this?” He hissed, obviously referring to Binghe’s god. Sucks to lose, but the man could figure it out himself in his own realm. All the better, Binghe didn’t like that place. Didn’t like seeing himself without his god. Stupidly, he retracted the sword from the others neck and hurled it at his feet.
“Thirty seconds,” he warned, watching as the other flipped up standing again to glare at him before slashing that stupid sword and disappearing into nothing. Soon as he was gone, he felt the other relax against his side. Without looking, he raised his arm to tuck over the others shoulder as his head rested against Binghe’s chest.
“We should go before Liu Qingge comes back.”
“He’s out trying to kill his disciple, we’ve got time.” Shen Yuan hummed, tucking his own arm around Binghe.
“You okay?” He nodded jerkily, his eyes still stuck on the place the other had disappeared. The second Shen Yuan started to move away from his side, he nearly tried to grab at him again. He didn’t, instead moving his eyes to the others face.
Shizun’s brows were furrowed as well as his eyes were narrowed, hand reaching up to cup Binghe’s face and the area there was still probably dried blood. He hadn’t gotten the chance to clean it beyond a swipe of his sleeve and a blood booster pill so he doubted it was too pretty to look at. He should dodge away, keep his gods hands clean and safe from his filth. Soon as he felt the contact of the others skin though, he couldn’t stop himself from shutting his eyes and leaning into it, letting out a small sigh as he cupped the others hand in his own. He didn’t ask and Binghe didn’t say anything for a good long while, just standing there basking in the others touch.
“I looked outside the window there,” he muttered, trying not to think of the image. He couldn’t stop it from springing to life behind his eyes though, how the sun and moon had been nearly eclipsed with no sign of ever moving again. He couldn’t help but remember how the whole sky glowed orange like that’s how it always looked, how it would always look from then on out in their now dying world.
He couldn’t help picturing Ning Yingying, or what was left of the vibrant woman. He couldn’t ever imagine seeing his Ning Yingying in such a lifeless manner, much less liking it more, and he hadn’t even seen the girl of his childhood for longer than a few seconds while she guarded her martial siblings. Not only that, his god was nowhere in sight there, no one Binghe could go to and talk about it there anymore seeing as Qinghua didn’t exist as he did, Mobei-Jun not even reacting to Binghe demanding after his death. He didn’t like that place, didn’t like seeing it behind his eyelids, it was all so wrong and different, so he opened his eyes and saw only his gods face in front of him, the sky painting him as a beautiful and ethereal being in the empty surrounding peaks morning light. That world didn’t have Shen Yuan, and suffered because of that.
“What if I had turned out that way?” He said, voice barely above a whisper as he focused solely on the warmth provided by the others palm against his cheek.
“You didn’t.”
“If A-Yuan wasn’t here though, if you weren’t so kind to me, then I–I could’ve done that–I–“
“But Binghe didn’t. You did the opposite remember?” Sighing, he tried to think and nodded absently. Right, yeah, he’d–he didn’t do that. Xin mo wasn’t even in his possession anymore. He hadn’t merged them, he’d made a treaty between them, The abyss didn’t open into Cang Qiong, and his god lived here safely and peacefully. It was early enough no students were out training on the battle grounds yet, but he knew they would be coming soon. They’d hear them before then though, they weren’t the most quiet bunch.
Dropping his hold on the others hand, he instead reached out and tucked him against his front, tucking his face into the crook of their neck and breathing in his familiar scent of bamboo. The other folded his arms over Binghe’s back in return and Binghe heard them sigh soon as he fully held them.
“A-Yuan is alright, right? Nothing–“
“No. I’m okay, he didn’t do anything else, I’d have killed him if he tried.” That he had no doubt about happening. He distinctly remembered his gods angry face when he first entered their room.
“Did Binghe have any other trouble in the other realm?” He continued. Shaking his head lightly, he shut his eyes and lifted his head to bury in the others hair.
“Other Sha Hualing did try to seduce me, but otherwise this one was fine.” It was quiet, then–a snort sounded by his ear as the other started shaking in his arms, laughter ringing clearly in the air around them and making Binghe smile.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, sounding very much not sorry about it.
“‘S okay. Now I have A-Yuan.”
“Hmm, yeah, you do.”
