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Shen Jiu tears through the undergrowth with a mix of madness and desperation. His thoughts are unfocused, hot tears still streaming down his face, but in the center of his heart, a ball of cold, certain rage has formed, and it drives him forward.
He knows the monster is here. He must be, for he’d seen him at the edge of the forest, smiling tauntingly before turning around and disappearing into the trees. He knows that he’s present now, probably standing just out of sight and watching him pitifully stumble through the bushes.
“SHOW YOURSELF,” Shen Jiu roars. “FACE ME, YOU COWARD!” He stops, chest heaving, glaring into the darkness, masking his anguish with anger.
A rustling sound comes from behind him, and he whirls around to see the monster, stepping out of the shadows. He’s just as horrid as Shen Jiu remembers him: almost 8 feet tall, with snow-white skin and pale red eyes.
He’d made him out of objectively perfect parts; his muscles are strong and bulging, his nose perfectly straight, his jaw sharp… but, when put all together, they feel wrong. He looks unnatural, as well, too perfect and borderline fake. And all of it, combined with his horrific complexion, watery eyes, and looming height… well, calling him a monster isn’t inaccurate.
Shen Jiu remembers how scared he’d been, back when the monster first opened his eyes. He doesn’t feel that at all now, though, can’t remember why he’d ever run away. All he can see is a murderer, and all he can feel is anger.
“Really?” The monster tuts at him, pacing closer. His lips are quirked up in a hateful smirk, but his eyes are cold and dead and sad. “I’m the coward? How hypocritical.”
Shen Jiu clenches his fist. He wishes he’d brought a weapon. But he hadn’t been thinking straight. All he had thought of was Yue Qingyuan’s still-warm body dead in his arms, and the fact that his murderer was about to get away. He’d sprinted into the forest after him without a second thought.
“Your quarrel wasn’t with him,” Shen Jiu spits, trying and failing to keep the pain from seeping into his voice. “You monster, you—”
The monster tuts. “I have a name, you know.”
Luo Binghe. The monster had picked it a while ago. He’d mentioned it the last time they’d talked, right before—right before he’d killed Liu Qingge. Because of the Luo River, he’d said. Because it was where he’d stayed, after Shen Jiu had abandoned him.
But it was a name the monster had picked. Shen Jiu wouldn’t do him the courtesy of using it.
“It doesn’t matter,” Shen Jiu sneers, channeling his despair to contempt. He’d been doing it his whole life. He was well practiced. “A name won’t make you human.”
At this, the monster’s face twists. For a second, that smug expression changes to something far more wretched, something sad and lonely. Shen Jiu can’t bring himself to care. Good. Let him suffer. It’s only for a second, anyways. Then, the smirk is back, and the eyes are cold.
The monster stalks closer, hands clasped behind his back. “And why would I want to be human?” He asks, voice carefully light. “They’re so cruel.” He’s far too close now, circling behind Shen Jiu. Shen Jiu doesn’t move, lifting his chin and keeping his expression carefully impassive.
The monster leans in, putting his mouth right next to Shen Jiu’s ear as he whispers, “They die far too easily.”
An image of Yue Qingyuan’s still body passes through his mind. The bruises around his neck. Liu Qingge’s wide, glassy eyes.
Shen Jiu turns around quickly, striking out with his fist. The monster dances out of the way, grabbing his arm and twisting it. And then he lets go, leaving Shen Jiu to cry out in pain and hatred.
“Despicable beast,” he chokes. “You criticize humanity, but you kill the innocent without a second thought.”
“The innocent?” The monster tilts his head. “Maybe so, but I was innocent once, too. And you threw me away, abandoned me. I was innocent, too, and still every human I met drove me out, beat me up. Even when I was kind, even when all I wanted to do was help.”
“QI-GE DID NOTHING,” Shen Jiu shouts, voice breaking. He doesn’t give a shit about the monster’s woes. “HE—he did nothing to you.”
“Ah.” The monster smiles. “But he meant so much to you. And his death hurts you. Now you can feel the agony that I did, Shen Jiu.” He spits the name as if it’s poison.
Oh, agony indeed. It fills every part of his body, chokes his words and consumes his thoughts. The sensation of holding Yue Qingyuan’s heavy, limp body, of realizing that it was his actions that led to it… truly, that was the worst agony in the world.
Or maybe even worse, the pain of seeing Liu Qingge dead on the ground. Of having to carry him back, of seeing Shen Yuan’s face shift in a second from confused to horrified to anguished. Of having to listen to his brother’s screams and sobs as he threw himself upon his betrothed.
“Just kill me,” Shen Jiu whispers. “Just kill me instead. Leave them alone.” He stops himself from tacking on an insult at the end, swallowing hard.
The monster laughs. It’s cold and emotionless. Shen Jiu hates it. “Oh, but that wouldn’t be suffering, would it?”
The monster looks him dead in the eyes. “This is much better. You get to watch the consequences of your actions. Your friend. Your lover.” He grins. “Your brother.”
Shen Jiu jerks his head up. No. Surely not–
Anyone but Shen Yuan. Anyone but his sweet younger brother, who hides his sharp mind and strong will behind soft words and gentle hands.
His brother is the best person in the world. He’s kind and genuine, with the most beautiful laugh. He reminds Shen Jiu that he’s not alone, softens the edges of his cruelty, forgives him when he’s accidentally too harsh.
His brother is much too good to die. He doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve to be punished for Shen Jiu’s mistakes. He’s already suffering enough from the loss of Liu Qingge, something that Shen Jiu will never forgive himself for.
“No,” Shen Jiu whispers hoarsely. “Please, not him.”
The monster grins. “Oh, yes, I’ve been watching him. He means the most to you, doesn’t he?”
Shen Jiu throws away his dignity. It’s not worth his brother’s life. “I’m begging you,” he pleads, falling to his knees. “I’ll do anything. Kill me, torture me, I don’t care—please don’t hurt him.”
“Hmm,” the monster hums. “He is quite beautiful. Maybe I’ll take him for my companion.”
Shen Jiu stills, horrified at the thought. “You’re despicable,” he spits, but it comes out more like a gasp. The terrible irony is that of all the people in the world, Shen Yuan is probably the most likely to accept the monster, as kind and nonjudgmental as he is. Still, he can’t imagine it—his bright, shining brother with such a horrible creature.
The monster pauses. “You’re right. I am despicable.” He looks down at his hands, and his facade gives way to a bit of genuine self disgust. “Much too despicable for someone so beautiful. I’m made to destroy beautiful things.”
Like Liu Qingge. Like Yue Qingyuan.
Bile rises in Shen Jiu’s throat.
Why did he ever even think to create such a thing? With only a bit of foresight, such a great amount of tragedy could have been so easily avoided. Why had he been so prideful, so eager to leave his mark on the world? Why couldn’t he have been satisfied with living a simple life?
A simple life sounds so nice.
Sparring with Liu Qingge. Seeing Shen Yuan’s brilliant smile as he rambles on about whatever horrifying little creature he’d dug up to study next. Maybe even marrying Yue Qingyuan, if either of them would work up the courage to confess…
The tears are streaming down his face in full force now. He hasn’t cried in years, not since he was a kid. Not even when his brother had collapsed on him after Liu Qingge’s death. He’d only felt guilt, then. Sadness and anger, yes, but mostly guilt. It was all his fault, after all.
His fucking pride. His fucking ambition.
The monster stares at him now, expression unreadable.
“It’s all your fault,” the monster says. The words are an accusation, but his tone sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself.
Shen Jiu doesn’t respond. He’s well aware of that fact, but he’s not going to do the monster the kindness of relieving any guilt he might feel.
“Your friends’ deaths,” the monster continues. “They’re all your fault. Your brother’s, too. It’ll be your fault.”
He’s met with silence.
The monster’s expression twists into that wretched sneer again. “I’m not a monster.”
While the beast is distracted, Shen Jiu lunges forwards, hoping to knock his legs out and get his hands around the monster’s throat. He’s simply no match for such a supernatural being, though, and the monster easily sidesteps him.
In an instant, Shen Jiu is being pinned to the ground.
“Oh my,” the monster tuts. “I hope you didn’t actually think that would work. That’s embarrassing.”
“Don’t touch him, you beast,” Shen Jiu hisses, struggling against the hands holding him down. The rage in his body has given way to fear. Pure, unadulterated fear, but not for himself. Rather, he can only think about the fate he has brought upon his brother. “Don’t you dare touch him.”
The monster twists his arm. “Call me by my name.”
Shen Jiu snarls. “Hideous, deformed scum. Wretched—“
“It’s like you want your brother to die,” the monster says calmly, but Shen Jiu can tell he’s as affected as always by the words. Still, he can’t do anything to risk Shen Yuan’s safety more than he already has. If being compliant will save his brother’s life, he’ll do it.
“Luo Binghe,” Shen Jiu hisses. “Leave him alone.”
Luo Binghe grins at him. “Better,” he says. “But still too late.”
And then Luo Binghe rips his arm off.
If Shen Jiu thought he knew pain before that moment, he was terribly mistaken. No words could possibly describe the sensation of having his arm torn off, the agony that coursed through him. Every nerve in his shoulder was on fire, like someone had dipped him into acid.
The screams that are ripped from him are louder than anything he’s even heard before. He can’t cry, the torment is too overwhelming. His vision goes spotty, his perception delirious with pain.
Still, even through the blindness, he can vaguely see Luo Binghe step away from him, holding his own pale arm. It’s a horrifying experience, to see one’s own limb disattached from their body. The sense of wrongness that settles in his chest is almost as bad as the mind-numbing pain that pulses in the spot where his left arm used to be attached.
He doesn’t look down, sure that if he gets a glimpse of the torn flesh and sinew, he might pass out. He doesn’t want to see a piece of bone visible, or the blood pumping from the stump and pouring onto his robes, staining them a terrifying red.
Instead, Shen Jiu looks up at Luo Binghe. I’m still screaming, he notices distantly. His throat hurts.
Luo Binghe looks down at him with contempt. He throws the arm away, and it makes a crash in the bushes that Shen Jiu can’t hear. His ears are too full of ringing, overlapped by the sounds of his own screams.
Then, Luo Binghe turns around, and starts to walk into the bushes.
To Shen Yuan, Shen Jiu realizes.
“Don’t touch him!” He cries again, voice thick with pain and hoarse from abuse.
At this, Luo Binghe stops, looking back over his shoulder with nothing but the purest hatred on his face. “I wish I could take all your limbs,” he says, almost casually. “But I can’t have you bleeding out.”
Then, he turns back and breaks into a run, disappearing into the woods in a flash.
Shen Jiu chokes, trying to push himself up with his remaining hand to his feet. As he does so, he slips on his own blood, which has pooled thick and shiny around him. He stumbles past the mess, and his vision goes completely patchy again. The pain in his arm is overwhelming.
The pain in his arm is overwhelming, but the fear of what Luo Binghe is going to do to his brother is much, much worse.
He stumbles through the blindness, tripping on a stick and fighting the bile rising in his mouth. Ultimately, he fails, and has to stop to vomit into the bushes. He doesn’t even wipe his mouth; he doesn’t have the time. Instead, he follows in the direction Luo Binghe had gone.
He knows, of course, that he has no chance of making it before his monster does. Luo Binghe is superhuman, with stamina, speed, and strength that are far superior to any human’s. If Luo Binghe wanted, he could be there before Shen Jiu even reached halfway.
However, he can’t give up without trying.
Shen Jiu takes a few more steps, trying to find the energy to break into a run. He needs to get to his brother before Luo Binghe, he needs to keep him safe. He needs to fix his mistakes, before anyone else gets hurt.
And so he pushes on, despite the blindness and the agony and the blood, step after step, taking it moment by moment.
He has noble intentions. But, ultimately, Shen Jiu is human, and the blood loss gets to be too much.
He passes out.