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Oh, Shen Qingqiu thinks to himself. That’s not supposed to happen.

Well, rather, it is supposed to happen, but not like this. Shen Qingqiu stares at the deep gash opened in the ground before them, spewing out heated air and terrible screams from the Endless Abyss into the human world. Strange monsters are already pouring free to wreak havoc, terrible insects to terrorize and annoy, and who knows what that weird sentient cloud thing is?

(Shen Qingqiu with his encyclopedic knowledge of the source material, that’s who knows, and he wishes he didn’t.)

It’s supposed to be here, of course. They’re right on time. What’s not here is the Black Moon Rhinoceros Python that’s supposed to trigger the release of Luo Binghe’s seal and be the inciting incident for his fall into blackening.

The Rhinoceros Python is not here. Neither is anything else large or ferocious enough to cause the seal break, either. Shen Qingqiu keeps himself busy taking down the smaller monsters still spilling free of the gash, Luo Binghe valiantly fighting at his side, but his mind is mostly spinning in circles trying to figure out what went wrong. Surely, nothing Shen Qingqiu has changed in the last few years would keep the great inciting incident beast from appearing! Right?

Wait, if the seal isn’t broken, does he still have to push Luo Binghe into the abyss? Certainly not, there’d be no reason!

[Answering Host: The Endless Abyss storyline is required. Failure to complete will result in a deduction of 10,000 protagonist’s satisfaction points and account termination.]

But why would Shen Qingqiu abandon his beloved, totally-not-secretly-a-half-demon disciple? Wouldn’t that just create a new plot hole?!

[How Host chooses to justify his actions is not the System’s concern.]

How fucking convenient for you!

As if to smack him for his language, a five minute timer suddenly opens up huge and menacing in the sky. It’s enough that Shen Qingqiu only doesn’t flip it off due to rallying every bit of self control he’s ever managed to scrape up over his entire two lifetimes.

“Shizun, I think that’s the last of the current wave,” Luo Binghe says from nearby, panting with his sword held tightly. He’d already been fatigued before Shen Qingqiu found him and there’s no way this attack is even close to over. In fact, if things go according to plan, Luo Binghe will be even more out of luck!

This pause is exactly the point when the Rhinoceros Python should be pushing Luo Binghe to the edge of his endurance until he has no choice but to break the seal and give himself a much needed boost of power. Instead, they’re facing off cannon fodder monsters while a smug, eldritch monstrosity threatens Shen Qingqiu’s life. How is any of this even fair?

“We should… check closer,” Shen Qingqiu says awkwardly but Luo Binghe only gives him a short, solemn nod before they walk towards the edge of the gash. Come on, monster, this is your golden chance for surprise!

And yet nothing. No Rhinoceros Python. No other big, powerful beasts, just a few more bat demons they tear down in single swings. Above his head, the countdown is under four minutes. Shen Qingqiu looks over at his kind, sweet, loveable disciple. How could anyone cast him into the Abyss in the first place, much less without an excuse like his blatant demon blood?!

“Maybe there are more demons further along the ridge,” Luo Binghe suggests and sure, that’s probably it! They’re just in the wrong spot!

[...]

Oh shut up, I know time is running out! This stupid system hasn’t figured out any contingency plans?!

An entire minute drops off the countdown all at once and Shen Qingqiu feels his heart drop into his stomach with it. This is ridiculous! He barely hears Luo Binghe’s concerned words over the raging in his own mind. None of this is fair, not to Luo Binghe and certainly not to him!

How many points do I have right now? Wasn’t there a loophole if he had enough-

[Answering host: he has 9,925 points. Failing to resolve the Abyss storyline will cost 10,000 points.]

Shen Qingqiu wants to spit blood. He looks at his worried disciple, then up at the count down. One more minute and then he’s back to being dead despite how hard he’s worked! And it’s even worse that he got so close!

Can we make a deal?

No answer but Shen Qingqiu can feel the System’s interest bearing down on him.

What if you took all but one point and then gave me some kind of penalty? I’ve already got this Without-A-Cure, just make it a worse handicap! Surely that’s worth 75 measly points?!

[Analyzing…]

I mean, with only a single point left, doesn’t it make it doubly sure I have to listen to you next time?

[Analyzing…]

You already enjoy pushing me around, surely that’s better than ending the fun so early!

[Analyzing…]

[Host may avoid the Abyss storyline by giving up all but one point and being subjected to the punishment protocol.]

Punishment protocol? Oh, that doesn’t sound good, but it’s better than getting stuck back in his rotting corpse, right?!

Deal! You’ve got a deal!

The count down stops at one second left, like the dramatic fuck it is. Then it shifts into showing off the points Shen Qingqiu has painstakingly earned over the last years, only to drain them away right before his eyes. His skin prickles the closer it gets to zero and then he lets out a soft sigh of relief when it abruptly stops at one.

[Punishment protocol initiated.]

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t have even a second to react before he feels his body weaken and fall. The world goes dark around him before he hits the ground.

In all Luo Binghe’s imaginings about how he might one day have his master in his arms, this isn’t even in the top 100. Still, the moment Shen Qingqiu starts to swoon, Luo Binghe drops Zheng Yang without a thought and catches him. Shen Qingqiu’s boneless sprawl nearly sends him into hysterics. Is Without-A-Cure acting up worse than usual?

“Shizun?!” he calls, even though he doesn’t expect an answer and gets none. Shen Qingqiu is completely limp in his arms. Passed out? Luo Binghe carefully lowers him down to the ground and takes up his wrist. His qi has gone haywire, but not quite the way Without-A-Cure usually affects him. The few times Luo Binghe has covertly been able to check just to make sure Liu Qingge was doing a good enough job, it’s been different. Shen Qingqiu certainly seems drained, but it’s almost like something is pulling his qi elsewhere-

Only his well honed cultivator senses mean he moves fast enough to dodge some kind of projectile acid sent their way by another monster. Then there’s a wave of beasts heading their way, and Luo Binghe isn’t about to let any of them hurt his precious master. He scoops up Zheng Yang after carefully laying Shen Qingqiu down on the ground and works his way through the group of monsters with the singular intention of making sure his shizun survives long enough to wake from whatever has happened to him. Some kind of venom? Had anything bitten him? Or maybe it had come from poison on sharp claws, he knew several demons had landed glancing blows on his shizun.

However, when a second group comes right on the feet of the last, Luo Binghe starts getting worried. He’s already pretty drained from the earlier fights, already worn down and tired. When it was both of them working together, Luo Binghe knew they’d win the day. Alone? Alone, he’s very much not sure at all.

He’d already given his emergency flare to someone else so there’s no way he can signal for help. Who knows how long Shen Qingqiu might be unconscious? Jaw tightening, Luo Binghe makes the decision. He swings Zheng Yang in a wide arc to get some breathing room, then tosses it into the air before grabbing his shizun. There’s still no response and the limp weight of him is almost as if all life had drained out. Luo Binghe barely has time to settle Shen Qingqit in his arms before another set of creatures that won’t leave well enough alone start towards him.

Shaking that thought, Luo Binghe leaps onto his sword and dodges past a few aerial attacks. The monsters still around are mostly concerned with prey on the ground thankfully. That’s the break Luo Binghe needs to get Shen Qingqiu to safety.

A pillar of light catches his attention, a beacon of hope in the chaos.

His first reaction is to go immediately to it and get back to the company of his sect. The second is to instead go in entirely the opposite direction because he’s not the only one to notice. On the ground, monsters are streaming towards the light in large groups, trampling over any unlucky soul caught in their path. There’s no way they’ll actually be safe there and more than anything, Luo Binghe needs Shizun to be safe. That single thought echoes in his mind in time with his racing heart and a strange heat that’s begun to form in his head.

He studies the shielding that was meant to keep any monsters from escaping the conference grounds and notices tiny flickers and thin spots, places that seem almost torn. They’re small, he might barely manage through one, but he’ll need to present as narrow a target as possible. It’s likely Luo Binghe will be stunned if he makes contact with the shield, so he has to get this right the first time.

Steeling himself, Luo Binghe spots the closest hole and barrels toward it. The tear is smaller than he’d hoped but he just hugs his shizun tighter to his chest and then makes the leap off Zheng Yang to barrel through it. Just barely, the mangled edges of the shield don’t touch either of them. Had they been even half an inch wider, they’d never have made it. Luo Binghe has a few moments of freefall before Zheng Yang flies into position under them. The landing is as smooth as ever and Luo Binghe doesn’t hesitate to fly as fast as he can away from the conference.

It’s only when he can’t hear any of the shouts and screams that Luo Binghe makes any real note of his surroundings. Fat, cold raindrops hammer down on them from above, already soaking through their robes. The forest under them is nothing so comforting as the bamboo groves of Qing Jing Peak, but at least it isn’t crawling with demonic creatures and would give them a little cover. Already, he’s worrying that Shen Qingqiu’s delicate constitution might be disrupted by the cold downpour.

Luo Binghe lands and dismisses Zheng Yang. The rain is dulling his hearing, but he lets his intuition guide him as they continue on foot. Maybe they can find a river, follow it to the next village. He holds that hope even as the light of the sun begins to grow dark and red. His body aches, muscles sore and straining, but he pushes on. His head is feeling hotter inside than before, worst on his forehead, a sure sign of how far he had already overtaxed his body.

But he’ll go as long as he needs to make sure Shizun is safe.

How long it ends up taking in the end, Luo Binghe will never be able to recall later. He’s bordering on collapse when he stumbles upon an old cabin in relatively good repair. That makes him worry about who might own it, but he can’t hear anyone nearby, nor sense any residual signs of righteous or demonic qi, either. That’s about all Luo Binghe needs to break inside and carry Shen Qingqiu onto the single bedroom. A smaller space will be easier to defend.

He lays his shizun down on an old, cushioned floor mat that at least doesn’t look too dirty, probably left by whoever built the cabin. There’s not much he can do about their soaked clothing, so he just drags out the emergency blanket Shen Qingqiu had forced him to pack in his qiankun pouch and flings it overtop him.

The last of his qi goes into activating a few shielding talismans around the cabin. It’s the last thing he manages to do before his body just gives out. Luo Binghe drops himself beside the mat, resting his back up against the wall it’s laid against as he tries to rub the growing throb of pain at the front of his head. He needs rest but it’s not secure enough yet.

He can’t sleep yet, not until Shizun wakes, but meditating will at least help build his qi reserves back up. Might even help with the ache in his head. He closes his eyes and trusts that his senses will alert him if anything is stupid enough to try and come inside, letting the pounding rain soothe his mind into centering.

Movement abruptly pulls Luo Binghe back to the world. The quality of light has changed, a couple hours after he’d first closed his eyes. He immediately twists around to make sure Shen Qingqiu is still all right and then frowns at the furrow in his shizun’s brows, the tightness of his closed eyes. Dreaming, Luo Binghe supposes, and not a good one, either.

Don’t even think about it, Meng Mo says in the back of his mind. You’d only make it worse.

But he’s suffering!

Nightmares are important, brat. It’s how people confront and deal with problems so they can do something about them while awake.

Luo Binghe knows that, but a soft whine escaping Shen Qingqiu’s throat makes his heart clench up. He reaches over, hesitantly brushes back a lock of dark hair from Shizun’s face. How could his master still be so beautiful even in the throes of a nightmare?

And that’s my cue to leave, Meng Mo mutters, his presence dimming down. Luo Binghe shakes his head and sits back on his knees, resting his folded arms up on the floor mat so he can watch Shen Qingqiu’s face. Every twitch of muscle, every change in his breathing or shift of his body, Luo Binghe notices and catalogs. He doesn’t often have the chance to observe his master like this.

The heat in his head throbs harder, feeling almost like a hot iron reaching ever closer to his skin. He rubs the heel of his palm into it, trying not to let his fatigue or pain distract him. This cabin is fairly sturdy, looked after recently, but that doesn’t mean it’s exactly secure. If something were to try to get in and hurt them- hurt Shizun-

Well. It wouldn’t exist much longer is what would happen. Even exhausted and drained, Luo Binghe would rather die than have anything happen to Shen Qingqiu. He’ll tear any enemies apart with his bare hands if he has to.

When Shen Qingqiu finally wakes later in the night, Luo Binghe has resorted to pinching himself to stay awake. He almost doesn’t notice his shizun’s eyes opening, attention focused on the sound of something moving around outside. The step cadence sounds more like four feet than two, but-

“Binghe,” comes out of Shen Qingqiu more like a breath than a name and Luo Binghe jerks his head around to look at him as he sits up.

“Shizun!” He barely holds back the urge to hug Shen Qingqiu to him as tightly as he can as he gets to his feet. “How does Shizun feel? Is he in pain? This disciple has been standing watch and-”

“This master is fine.” Shen Qingqiu sounds exhausted even though he’s the one that’s been sleeping. There’s a tension in the skin around his eyes that Luo Binghe usually only sees when he’s facing down something he doesn’t particularly like. “Where are we? How long…?”

“It wasn’t safe to remain at the conference and the monsters were heading straight for where all the other cultivators were gathering. It… When this disciple noticed a tear in the shielding, it seemed better to bring Shizun outside to somewhere he could rest. We’ve been here for half a day.”

In all actuality, Luo Binghe isn’t really sure he’d been thinking all that well at the time. Maybe it would have been okay to join the others even if the beasts were coming their way, but… Something in him had balked at the idea of anyone seeing his master in such a powerless state. Of taking his master anywhere near other powerful things that might endanger him.

“Good job,” Shen Qingqiu says and Luo Binghe smiles as relieved warmth floods him. Sitting up straighter, Shen Qingqiu glances around, taking stock of the humble little cabin Luo Binghe commandeered. “Has Binghe rested?”

“No, Shizun. He did not leave Shizun unguarded!” The very idea that he’d sleep when Shen Qingqiu was in such a state…!

Shen Qingqiu moves off the mat and then slowly rises to his feet, testing out his body. There’s definitely soreness from the way he moves but Luo Binghe doesn’t see any blatant signs of further injury.

“Binghe should sleep,” Shen Qingqiu says with a glance out one of the windows. “This master will assure his safety.”

While Luo Binghe hates the idea of leaving Shen Qingqiu alone, he also knows he’s at his limit. His qi has barely recovered at all during meditation and he’s simply exhausted after the conference itself, the waves of monsters, his mad dash to safety, and hours of keeping watch. It doesn’t take much more for Shen Qingqiu to guide Luo Binghe onto the floor mat.

The mat smells like Shen Qingqiu. Luo Binghe is just tired enough to let himself relax under the emergency blanket with that scent to soothe him into sleep.

Luo Binghe opens his eyes and finds himself back at the conference. The huge gash in the ground spews out toxic gas and an overwhelming wave of demonic qi into a place it has no business being. The sky is dark, thick clouds overtaking the sun and riddled with sudden bursts of lightning. All around him, heat presses in close and overwhelming in a way he didn’t feel before. It has a physical weight, pushing him down and down and down.

This isn’t how it happened. As versed in the way of dreams as Luo Binghe is after a couple years of training with Meng Mo, he’s a little confused by the way this doesn’t quite feel like one. It’s… distant in a weird way, like a play he can watch but not dictate. Almost like one of the little hidden realms he sometimes finds on his night hunts.

Just as Luo Binghe thinks about exploring the odd place he’s found himself in, his body decides to move on its own. He tries to stop and is startled and uneasy when it won’t listen. He has no control at all. Not of himself, the scenery around him, anything. The eyes he stares out from take in the landscape and show him only what they want to see.

Ahead, he spots a tall figure in white and green, stark against the dark browns of everything else. Luo Binghe tries to call for him but his mouth won’t open. His body stalks quietly towards his unsuspecting master with a smoothness Luo Binghe hasn’t grown into yet, still gangly from his teenage growth spurt. They’re close enough that he makes out the subtle embroidery on his shizun’s belt and then Shen Qingqiu whips around.

“Luo Binghe!” he calls and Luo Binghe feels his body twitch with surprise. All around them, the heated wind picks up to throw their hair and clothes around. It makes his shizun that much more beautiful through the pure drama of it. With the sword suddenly in Luo Binghe’s hand, he wonders if maybe this is an older him, meeting Shizun on equal terms-

Luo Binghe feels his face move, expression shifting, and it can’t be to anything good considering the way Shen Qingqiu’s jaw tightens.

“Shen Qingqiu?” comes out of his mouth but it’s not Luo Binghe’s voice. Not quite. Deeper and darkly amused. Ahead of them, Shen Qingqiu takes a single step back and Luo Binghe realizes his shizun is afraid of him! His heart clenches but his body takes a step forward and Shen Qingqiu backs up another, hand going to his scabbard but Xiu Ya isn’t there to draw. The surprise has him stumbling, tripping, and then landing on his back with startling gracelessness.

Looking up at them, the expression on Shen Qingqiu’s face is utterly alien. Open in a way Luo Binghe has never seen before. All at once, he looks no older than most of his disciples.

“Shen Qingqiu, why are you here?” Luo Binghe’s mouth says. “From what I recall, I never let you in, no?”

What is he talking about? The bewilderment streaming through Luo Binghe’s mind almost overtakes his horror at Shen Qingqiu’s fear, only becoming more obvious in his green eyes and the way his fingers twitch like he’ll need to defend himself. Against Luo Binghe? He would rather die than hurt his shizun!

“Why are you here?” Shen Qingqiu asks as he picks himself up again, as if needing to face them on his feet. His voice is still clear and strong despite all the signs Luo Binghe recognizes of his distress as the immortal mask settles mostly back into place.

“Not sure,” Luo Binghe’s mouth says, shrugging a shoulder inelegantly, something Luo Binghe would never do around his shizun. But he feels his mouth twisting into a widening smile that feels… hungry. Savage, in a way. “You’re not afraid of me anymore?”

Shen Qingqiu takes another step back and Luo Binghe’s voice hums with something like amusement.

“Come here,” he orders, beckoning Shen Qingqiu to him. Shen Qingqiu stares back with indecision in his eyes. Before Luo Binghe’s mouth can decide to say more, his shizun turns and starts to run. And then with a burst of demonic qi, they’re right in front of him again, blocking his path. Shen Qingqiu abruptly retreats several steps and almost trips over his own feet again in his haste. It’s the least collected Luo Binghe has ever seen him and it feels like something he shouldn’t have witnessed.

“Somehow I keep getting the feeling… that something about you is different,” Luo Binghe’s mouth says, consideringly. “Are you really Shen Qingqiu?”

His eyes dart over Shen Qingqiu’s face, as if looking for something that isn’t there. Slowly under the surface, his demonic qi is rising, condensing, strengthening in preparation for… what, exactly? Luo Binghe has no idea but it can’t be anything good.

And then they’ve moved and red splashes across his shizun’s robes. Shock crosses Shen Qingqiu’s face that mirrors Luo Binghe’s own, especially when he realizes the bleeding is because he’d torn his shizun’s arm off. It had felt so easy, like peeling fruit.

A burst of energy tries to heal the traumatic wound and Luo Binghe reaches out and dispurses it with a single palm strike. Blood gushes down Shen Qingqiu’s side as he stumbles back a few more steps, remaining hand clasped over the wound like he might be able to stem the flow, and the sound coming out of him…

Luo Binghe has seen many creatures die before him, several that had been nearly human in shape, but he’s never heard anyone scream like this before. As the initial shock and blood loss take their toll, Shen Qingqiu sways like he’s about to pass out and his voice loses most of its strength, edging into a pathetic whine that somehow hurts Luo Binghe even worse to hear. Another step and Shen Qingqiu pitches back as his balance fails him again. He hits the ground and Luo Binghe can’t force his body to hurry and help him. It drops Shen Qingqiu’s arm, leisurely strolling towards his injured master.

With an even wider smile, Luo Binghe’s body kneels down at Shen Qingqiu’s side and he strokes a hand up his master’s thin, shapely calf, rucking up the silks of his robes. When Shen Qingqiu’s remaining hand grabs a fistful of Luo Binghe’s robes, and Luo Binghe’s lips part to show every too sharp tooth in his mouth even as Luo Binghe screams in his impotent mindspace to stop, stop, stop!

“Don’t… Don’t…” Shen Qingqiu whispers as if he can’t get enough air, his head shaking from side to side.

Wordlessly, Luo Binghe’s body pushes Shen Qingqiu to the ground firmly with one hand, the other still resting almost tenderly on his thigh.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve done this,” his voice says. “Why is Shizun so unaccustomed?”

Shen Qingqiu’s chest heaves with his next breath, his eyes wild like an animal’s as Luo Binghe only leans in closer. The sheer intimacy of it would be enough for Luo Binghe to beg forgiveness, much less all the rest!

“How about we do it a couple more times and get you used to it again slowly?”

Luo Binghe doesn’t understand what that’s supposed to mean and then Shen Qingqiu’s screaming again and his leg is- If Luo Binghe could vomit, he would. He wants to cry and rage and tear himself apart-

And then he opens his eyes for real and he’s in the old cabin, dusty with lack of use and filled with the loud thumping of water against the roof.

He can sense Shen Qingqiu sitting nearby and nausea overcomes him. Luo Binghe shoots off the mat and half stumbles, half falls outside. He’s emptying his stomach of everything he’d ever eaten in his entire life almost as soon as the first raindrop soaks into his hair. Luo Binghe heaves and wheezes for what seems like forever. His throat burns with acid, his jaw is sore from how tight the muscles of it are. Tears stream down his cheeks like a flood.

It takes a while before his stomach stops trying to eject his soul from his body. And then Luo Binghe becomes aware of a hand against his back, feeding him a tiny trickle of qi. The familiar feel of it just makes him cry harder. He can’t stop himself from twisting around to bury his face against Shen Qingqiu’s chest. His master pets his hair back as he sobs, murmuring soft things Luo Binghe doesn’t deserve in the least.

He cries until he has no more moisture to expel. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t let go the whole time, even though they’re both soaked again by the heavy downpour. It’s quiet between them and all Luo Binghe can concentrate on is the feel of his shizun’s strong arms around him, his heart beating even and calm under Luo Binghe’s ear.

“Would Binghe like to tell this master what so disturbed him as he slept?” Shen Qingqiu offers because he has no idea. If Luo Binghe were a better disciple, he’d already be on his knees and begging for forgiveness. As it is, he can only shake his head and press harder into his shizun’s embrace. Shen Qingqiu sighs. “What is this master going to do with his disciple crying like someone died, ah?”

Luo Binghe shivers at what might have happened in the dream if it had gone any longer. How could he ever be worth anything to Shen Qingqiu when his mind comes up with such awful things? Remembering his shizun’s scream almost makes Luo Binghe wretch again. Instead, he lets Shen Qingqiu ease him back into the cabin. They sit on the floor to keep from soaking the mat and Shen Qingqiu tugs a comb from inside his sleeve.

This is usually a morning activity. Luo Binghe’s never known quite what to do with his wild curls but Shen Qingqiu is gentle and patient with him, combing out all the tangles and tugging it all into a respectable tail. Even now, the familiarity of it soothes Luo Binghe back down.

Is it a symptom of his demonic heritage, being able to imagine such terrible things? Luo Binghe has tried to embrace his master’s reassurance that some demons could be good just as many humans were bad, but it’s so hard when the dream presses this vividly to his heart. He wants to vomit again, but there’s nothing inside to expel.

Luo Binghe waves off his shizun’s concerns and tries to get some semblance of order back to his mind. If his forehead didn’t feel more hot and sore than before he’d slept, it would be so much easier to meditate. He certainly isn’t sleeping again today.

The day is quiet and calm. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t try to make him talk about the dream again, distracted by his own thoughts. Luo Binghe doesn’t let his horrific vision keep him from his usual duties as his shizun’s personal disciple. The qiankun bag he carries has supplies for the seven day conference, three times as much as he actually needed per Shen Qingqiu’s insistence, so he’d barely dipped into them before things went so wrong. He has plenty of ingredients to use for a filling meal.

As they sit around with a bowl each, Luo Binghe wonders if he even deserves to eat. Likewise, Shen Qingqiu seems distracted as well. They eventually finish their portions but it lacks the usual appreciation.

When night comes, Shen Qingqiu waves Luo Binghe off to the floor mat and instead settles to meditate. Meng Mo complains about it but he guards Luo Binghe’s dreams from unpleasantness with the excuse that he’s just making sure his host remains somewhat functional.

If you go down, this elder will have to find some other sap to take on, Meng Mo says.

The next day is much the same, except Luo Binghe notices something strange in Shen Qingqiu’s behavior. He’s… jumpy. Twitching at new sounds from outside or when Luo Binghe moves a little too fast. The movements are barely that and he only notices because he’s made a study of Shen Qingqiu’s body language since his face is so rarely expressive. It’s enough to alarm Luo Binghe terribly, but does he have the right to pry into his master’s thoughts? Especially when his own were-

Luo Binghe shies away from remembering the dream and barely looks at Shen Qingqiu after that.

The third day, Shen Qingqiu still hasn’t slept. He stares out one of the windows, distant and the picture of immortal elegance even in his dirty, water damaged robes. There’s been no talk about leaving the cabin, or going back to Qing Jing. Any other time, Luo Binghe would be overjoyed to have his shizun all to himself, but right now…

He still hasn’t been able to put the dream behind him, not by a long shot, but days since have softened the edges a bit. It’s less a sharp knife in his side and more the uncomfortable heat of coals against his back. Luo Binghe is sure he’ll have to face it some day, but not yet.

That night, Shen Qingqiu again abstains from sleep and waves Luo Binghe to the mat. Sleep doesn’t come to him, though. He rests on his side with his back to Shen Qingqiu, just so his shizun won’t worry if he can’t sleep. The air is humid and sticky from the rain that had only stopped a few hours ago, making his hair more uncomfortable where it curls against his skin. Luo Binghe dozes a little, not able to manage anything deeper, and then comes awake in a snap as he hears a tiny whimper behind him. Luo Binghe sits up, staring over at Shen Qingqiu slumped up against the wall.

Is he dreaming? Luo Binghe avidly watches the furrow of Shen Qingqiu’s brow, the way his fingers curl and relax in turns. So rarely does he have the opportunity to just take in his master’s beauty-

Another soft noise of distress trickles past Shen Qingqiu’s lips and Luo Binghe feels cold inside. Instead of being at all helpful, he’d just given in to his own selfish needs! There his shizun is, suffering, and the first thing Luo Binghe does is oggle, rather than trying to soothe him.

Careful, brat, Meng Mo mutters in his mind. Your seal’s barely holding on as it is, get a hold of your feelings already.

Maybe his shizun won’t kill him if his demonic heritage gets leaked, but Luo Binghe isn’t ready for the chance that it goes badly. Focusing back on Shen Qingqiu’s disturbed face, he thinks over the options. Then his shizun whimpers again and Luo Binghe can’t let this stand. He knows Shen Qingqiu needs sleep, so he doesn’t try to wake him. Instead, he tugs at his burgeoning dream abilities and dives headfirst into Shen Qingqiu’s dreamspace.

It’s too familiar by half. Luo Binghe stalls up as he recognizes the conference grounds, recognizes the heat and the horrible certainty that the other him is probably around. The him that tore Shizun apart-

Frantically, Luo Binghe jerks his hands up to stare at them and make sure he can move them this time. There’s nothing else controlling his body, nothing else making him do such horrible things. As Luo Binghe tries to get his bearings, he hears something behind him.

“Luo Binghe!”

That’s Shizun’s voice! Luo Binghe turns around immediately and starts towards Shen Qingqiu, only to notice another figure nearby. The man is tall and strong, his hair cascading down his back in a riot of curls. The black and red of his clothes seem to match exactly the blackened look on his face and the bright red demonic huadian glowing on his forehead. It takes Luo Binghe a few extra, precious seconds to realize the face he’s looking at is astonishingly familiar.

Is that what Shizun thinks he’ll look like grown up? Why would Shen Qingqiu dream about this and be so afraid? Why would it be the same dream Luo Binghe’d had?

You’re not wrong to wonder, Meng Mo says. This isn’t a normal dream. Yours wasn’t either.

How long had Meng Mo been planning on keeping that to himself?! But Luo Binghe has more important things to focus on. He sets off at a dead run towards the pale figure of his shizun, determined to avoid the fate that had so disgusted Luo Binghe.

He’s not fast enough to prevent the loss of Shizun’s arm or the terrible scream after. He’s barely reached out toward his older doppelganger when everything resets and he’s back at the start. Luo Binghe blinks and then runs toward the two distant figures. He is again too late and again reset.

“What is this?” he demands, sick to his very core that Shen Qingqiu has had to experience this over and over as he slept and Luo Binghe can’t seem to do anything about it.

It’s a memory, Meng Mo says. He sounds as confused as Luo Binghe is. How the hell could this be a memory?

It shouldn’t be possible. There’s no way Luo Binghe could do something like this to his precious shizun. Had someone interfered with Shen Qingqiu’s dreamscape? Implanted these horrible images into it- Or had there been some kind of bleedover between them? Is that why Luo Binghe saw the same thing, except as the perpetrator instead of a third party?

There’s no answer from Meng Mo but Luo Binghe is sure the elder demon is just as perplexed. It takes the two of them working together to finally break the dream-memory’s hold on Shen Qingqiu’s mind and free him from the repeated dismembering. Whatever put the memory there must have been several levels more powerful than either of them. Meng Mo’s presence fades to nearly nothing after the memory shatters and Luo Binghe barely claws his way back to consciousness.

He opens his eyes and sees the cabin roof. The sound of quiet weeping draws his attention to his side. Shen Qingqiu sits with his face in his hands, knees drawn up to his chest and body trembling. The sight of it twists Luo Binghe’s already bruised and battered heart. He’s never seen his shizun so weak, so far removed from his immortal mask. He can’t get over to Shen Qingqiu’s side fast enough and aches when Shizun stiffens, staring wide eyed over his fingers.

“Binghe,” he whispers and immediately starts pulling himself together. Even as Luo Binghe feels glad he can do that, there’s a part of him relieved to see this side of his shizun exists. It’s a selfish sort of want, so terribly selfish he’s almost sick with himself. “Did- did I wake you?”

“No.”

“Good, that’s good. You… It’s late. Binghe should get more rest.”

Normally, Luo Binghe would take that oblique order. Tonight, though…

“What did Shizun dream about that so upset him?” he asks despite knowing the answer.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t look at him, staring off at nothing like he’s still haunted by it. “Nothing that Binghe must dwell on. This master will handle it himself.”

“...Shizun shouldn’t have to.” Luo Binghe scoots a little closer and then freezes at the way Shen Qingqiu stiffens. Like he’s afraid. Like Luo Binghe would ever hurt him the way the dream avatar did- “This disciple must beg Shizun’s forgiveness.”

That, finally, brings Shen Qingqiu’s gaze back onto him. He stares in silence for several seconds and then in a far too weak tone, he asks, “Did Binghe enter this master’s dream tonight?”

Luo Binghe nearly drops into a kowtow. Instead, he just nods and waits to accept Shen Qingqiu’s punishment. It doesn’t come. Shen Qingqiu just continues staring at him as something inside him almost seems to break.

“How long has Shizun dreamed about this… about his Binghe doing…” Luo Binghe swallows down the growing lump in his throat. “Shizun must know this disciple would never hurt him intentionally!”

“Of course he wouldn’t. That wasn’t my Binghe.” The tone is still off. Almost raspy, colder than usual, almost like Shen Qingqiu is trying to distance himself again. Even knowing what his shizun has experienced, Luo Binghe can’t help the way his heart aches at the rejection.

“Then who was it?”

“He’s…” Shen Qingqiu’s gaze slides off him again, brows furrowed tight. “He’s what Binghe might have become if this master made different choices.”

“Never!” Luo Binghe yells, strongly enough that Shen Qingqiu jumps.

“No,” his shizun agrees. “No, this Binghe probably wouldn’t.”

Probably, he says. There’s no way Luo Binghe could ever hurt Shen Qingqiu like that. Like anything. He resolves to figure out how he can convince Shen Qingqiu that his trust is rightfully placed within Luo Binghe.

Shen Qingqiu reaches up, brushing his fingers across Luo Binghe’s forehead where the huadian had glowed in the dream. The contact sends little ripples of pleasure through Luo Binghe’s entire body. Would he one day have a similar mark that his shizun might touch so gently?

“This Binghe wouldn’t,” Shen Qingqiu says again, more firmly. As if to convince himself with its repetition.

They still don’t leave the cabin that day. Shen Qingqiu is quiet, distracted, and Luo Binghe busies himself trying to make his shizun’s outermost layer something even close to presentable. There are slashes to mend, stains to work out of the silk. This robe can hope to be saved in the end, but he still tries anyway. He doesn’t want anyone to see Shen Qingqiu so out of sorts.

There’s still a problem between them, though. The ache in Luo Binghe’s head is a good distraction from the awkwardness he can’t quite grasp the shape of to banish. If Shen Qingqiu sleeps tonight, will he dream the same thing? If he doesn’t, will Luo Binghe?

Calm down, Meng Mo warns. Unless you want this to be where the break happens. It’s already close to time as it is.

Right, okay. Luo Binghe takes a few deep breaths and gets back to the robe.

There’s barely another word spoken the rest of the day. Luo Binghe makes meals and Shen Qingqiu barely picks at them. Shen Qingqiu checks over healing wounds they’d tended days ago to make sure infection hasn’t settled in anywhere and Luo Binghe dutifully lets himself be fussed over. There’s something very nice about such quiet regard for one another. It makes him ache in different ways.

As night falls, the mat ends up being Luo Binghe’s again and he’s too tired to avoid sleep. In a stroke of luck, he doesn’t dream of the other him. Shen Qingqiu is jumpy again that morning, on edge like he’s waiting for something. He doesn’t explain why.

The next day is worse. There’s strain in the skin around Shen Qingqiu’s eyes, a subtle twitch to his fingers when he gets startled, and he gets started a lot. It’s enough to break Luo Binghe’s heart, but he can’t get his master to talk about it. He’s not sure he’d want Shen Qingqiu to do so, either.

Another day. Luo Binghe’s fully healed by then and Shen Qingqiu has recovered significantly as well. Still, they don’t leave the cabin. The liminal space between these simple walls and the quiet noises of the forest outside seem like an entirely different world. One they will have to go back to, and soon, but for now… For now, it’s just him and Shizun and the tension between them.

It’s not until Luo Binghe is checking over the blanket for anything he needs to clean or mend that he realizes his nails are… Different. Darker, sharper, more…

The seal, he says in his mind, knowing it will summon his demonic teacher.

I told you it wouldn’t be much longer.

Luo Binghe swallows back despair and can’t bring himself to say anything. He makes an excuse to go outside and carefully cuts down the tips of his claws. The effort is wasted. His nails have sharpened all over again within a few hours.

His teeth feel too big for his mouth. Luo Binghe keeps reaching up to check them, but there’s no obvious change he can detect. If he had a mirror… But no, there hadn’t seemed much point in adding one to the qiankun bag when that space could be taken up by more supplies.

That night, Luo Binghe dreams of running and hunting and tearing his prey to pieces. He wakes to the sound of his shizun muttering softly to himself. Near the open door, Shen Qingqiu sits with his knees drawn up to his chest, his haunted gaze almost vacant as he stares at nothing. Knowing that asking will do nothing, Luo Binghe turns over and tries to go back to sleep. He manages it, barely.

The next day, he accepts that there’s nothing he can do to hide his shameful mixed blood anymore. The claws are longer, thicker. His teeth are noticeably sharper. The tips of his ears and getting more pointed. He knows why his head has been burning because when he turns to look at Shen Qingqiu after waking, his shizun freezes for several seconds with his eyes focused on his forehead, long enough that Luo Binghe recognizes fear.

In no world should Shen Qingqiu have anything to fear from Luo Binghe and the fact that he does… It makes the tenuous hold the seal has on his demonic qi that much weaker.

He realizes Shen Qingqiu is ready to ignore the changes when Shen Qingqiu’s first tense words are, “Did Binghe sleep well? This master thinks it will only sprinkle today before the rain is gone for good.”

As if nothing had happened. As if Luo Binghe’s secret wasn’t lain bare between them.

“Shizun,” he murmurs, and hates the roughness of his voice. A voice almost like the other one’s. He kneels at Shen Qingqiu’s feet and bows his head.

Shen Qingqiu sighs. Then his gentle hand comes down to pat Luo Binghe’s head as usual, fingers petting through his thick hair. “...Binghe must be so confused.”

What? He sneaks a peek up, his eyes filled with tears that are ready to fall and soften Shen Qingqiu’s heart. Is it the demon side of him that makes manipulation so effortless and natural?

Brushing his thumb against Luo Binghe’s forehead, Shen Qingqiu seems to reach some sort of decision. He straightens up, strength filling his body and once more showing the peerless immortal Luo Binghe had pledged himself to.

“This master had hoped there would be more time,” Shen Qingqiu says quietly and Luo Binghe doesn’t understand.

“This- this disciple has betrayed Shizun’s trust,” is what tumbles free of Luo Binghe’s mouth as the first tears fall, and he didn’t even mean to loose them. “Shizun-”

“None of that. This master knows nothing more today that he hadn’t already known before.”

Shizun knew? For how long?! And chose to raise him anyway? Luo Binghe’s heart breaks and overflows with love for this wonderful man. He’d planned on taking first place at the conference and confessing his feelings after, but the confession is like ash in his mouth. What could Luo Binghe the demon offer to Shen Qingqiu the immortal?

“Did Binghe pack any ink or brushes?” Shen Qingqiu asks as if there’s nothing strange between them.

“No, Shizun.”

“Ah. A pity.” Shen Qingqiu kneels down before him and then lifts his hand to his mouth. Before Luo Binghe knows what’s happened, Shen Qingqiu bites open a gash in the pad of his own thumb and reaches out to trace it along Luo Binghe’s forehead. The heat intensifies as blood smears and Luo Binghe shudders at the power of it.

Gutsy, Meng Mo says. Didn’t think he had it in him.

What is it?

He’s breaking the rest of the seal.

That’s the only warning Luo Binghe gets before his body is overtaken by demonic qi. It fills every inch of him, spills out around the cabin like a physical thing, and it hurts. Everything hurts, his body is on fire. The world around him disappears in a red haze of pain and rage and need.

He’s lost in it almost immediately, unable to hear his master or even Meng Mo. His thick claws dig into his own arms as he tries to give himself some kind of outlet for the violence his blood demands, but it’s not enough. He needs to fight, to kill, to take what’s his-

Cool hands cup his face and he almost bites them. Then he recognizes the gentle qi sinking into him to calm his heart and soothe his blood. Luo Binghe sobs, leaning into them, and feels thumbs brush over his cheek bones. A blink and Luo Binghe realizes Shen Qingqiu is sprawled on the floor under him. Luo Binghe stares at him wide eyed from where he’s braced on his arms and knees above, but his shizun doesn’t look angry.

“There you are,” Shen Qingqiu says. His hands are trembling against Luo Binghe’s cheeks but he still offers a small smile. “Settle down now. How old is Binghe, crying like this because of a little demonic qi? Has this master not raised him well enough?”

Luo Binghe sobs as relief floods him and all he can do is bury his face against Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder. Gentle fingers start petting his hair and a quiet voice assures him that everything is all right, everything will be fine now.

“Shizun is here,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Shizun isn’t afraid of you.”

That just makes Luo Binghe cry harder.

Shen Qingqiu uses his own blood to trace a shielding array into the walls of the cabin, strong enough that it makes the hair on Luo Binghe’s arm stand on end anytime he gets too close. The array won’t stop everyone from sensing anything amiss, but it will make them more likely to take it as a regular beast rather than a half demon and his master. Now, all he has to do is master this new part of himself.

It’s not that simple, of course. It takes the combined efforts of Shen Qingqiu and Meng Mo to help Luo Binghe get any kind of a handle on his unbound demonic qi. Enough to hide it, enough to be safe around other cultivators. It will take years to really control it.

But he won’t have to do that alone. Luo Binghe can barely imagine what sort of a wreck he would be, had Shen Qingqiu decided to reject him instead.

Just because Shen Qingqiu accepts him though, it doesn’t mean that there aren’t moments when he forgets. A lot of them. Luo Binghe sees it in the mornings the most, reacting to the demonic qi he’s leaked into the cabin while he slept. It puts his shizun on edge until they can dispel it. Sometimes, Luo Binghe wonders if he’s seeing the terrible, vile double that still terrorizes his dreams when he senses it. There are definitely times when he feels Shen Qingqiu’s focus on him shift, bringing a tremble to his hands.

While Meng Mo could grumble for hours about it, Luo Binghe spends the nights

alternating between his dream training and guarding Shen Qingqiu’s dreams so he can at least get some sleep, even if his shizun doesn’t even try with frequency. The terrible dismemberment is common, but not every night. Sometimes, Luo Binghe builds a soft, vague space for Shen Qingqiu’s psyche to rest. He’s determined to replicate the bamboo house they both cherish exactly, some day. It takes time to master a skill like this. He’s going to take as little time as possible to do so. Maybe with enough gentle dreams, Shen Qingqiu will be able to leave behind the specter that haunts him now.

There doesn’t seem to be any hurry to return. It’s been at least two weeks now. Luo Binghe doesn’t keep track of the days, just their supplies. With Shen Qingqiu practicing inedia more days than not, their stock has spread farther than he thought, but it won’t be long before they need to buy or hunt down more for him to eat. Luo Binghe isn’t worried about that; with Shizun at his side, he knows he can do anything.

“Does Binghe miss Qing Jing Peak?” Shen Qingqiu asks one evening after drilling Luo Binghe relentlessly in calling and banishing his demonic qi at will. “Maybe Ning Yingying.”

Maybe he does, a little. They’re certainly friends, but this has been the longest he’s ever had Shen Qingqiu’s undivided attention. He wouldn’t give it up for all the comforts of the world!

“We’ll go back eventually,” Luo Binghe says with a shrug. “This disciple is happy to continue his important training here at Shizun’s side.”

Shen Qingqiu hums and continues staring out the window and into the thick forest around the cabin. He’s distracted the next day, no matter how much Luo Binghe messes up on purpose to get his attention back. Whatever Shen Qingqiu’s got on his mind, it’s taking up far more of it than Luo Binghe would prefer. At least he’s jumping less if Luo Binghe moves too suddenly. Anything to keep this little life together.

Maybe by the time Luo Binghe is old enough to offer marriage, his shizun will have shaken off the terrible dreams that plague him now. It’s something to work towards.

Just as Luo Binghe starts thinking they might not go back to Cang Qiong Mountain for several months, Cang Qiong Mountain comes to them.

Mid word, Shen Qingqiu goes silent and then looks out toward the window. It’s half a minute later that Luo Binghe feels what alerted him. That’s all the warning they get before someone drops off their sword outside. Luo Binghe puts a lock down on his qi. If any leaks now, it could mean his death. Or, at least his separation from Shizun.

“You’re alive,” Liu Qingge says in a gruff tone as he pokes his head in the door. His brows furrow, likely feeling the array, but it only takes a moment for Shen Qingqiu to tear it down again. There’s no sense in leaving something for them to question the use of.

“Naturally,” Shen Qingqiu says, nodding to him. There’s relief in his body language that makes Luo Binghe wish he could chase Liu Qingge to the ends of the world and throw him right off it. Maybe that’s the demon in him. Despite Shen Qingqiu’s firm belief that demons and humans have equal potential for good or evil, he can’t help thinking that maybe he’d have fewer thoughts about locking his shizun away in a castle only he could visit if he were fully human.

Liu Qingge glances over Luo Binghe with a lot less concern, but Luo Binghe makes sure to smile politely even though he wants to tear out Liu Qingge’s eyes for daring to lay them upon his shizun. These kinds of thoughts have maybe been a little harder to suppress since his seal broke. He keeps it to himself. The less he reignites that fear in Shen Qingqiu anew, the better.

The next to arrive is Qi Qingqi, who takes one look at them and primly declares the camping trip over. Luo Binghe takes as much time as he can to gather what little they’d had before he follows the rest outside. They draw their swords and Luo Binghe tries to ignore the way Shen Qingqiu stiffens at seeing the weapon in his hand. No matter. In time, Shen Qingqiu’s fear will fade. Luo Binghe just has to wait.

As Qi Qingqi takes point, Liu Qingge pushes both Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe to fly ahead of him so he can take up the rear. It’s a good idea, tactically sound, but it also means that Luo Binghe gets to fly at his master’s side and that’s never a bad thing. If Luo Binghe drifts maybe a bit more towards him the closer they get to Cang Qiong Mountain, no one calls him on it.

Their reception is bigger than Luo Binghe expected, but… Then again, so many people love his shizun. It makes sense that they’d have worried after the impromptu vacation. He still wishes it had been longer.

“Qingqiu-shidi will have to tell us the story once he’s rested,” Yue Qingyuan says, eyes growing softer with Shen Qingqiu in front of him. Coveting.

Mu Qingfang is next, bustling through the crowd to immediately take up Shen Qingqiu’s wrist. From the look in his face, Without A Cure must be in a state despite the eventless flight home. Mu Qingfang waves Liu Qingge over to break through the clumps in Shen Qingqiu’s meridians.

With every new person that touches his shizun, Luo Binghe’s stomach twists harder. He says nothing, but his burning gaze must have some kind of weight to it because Shen Qingqiu looks up and over before Luo Binghe manages to banish his worsening mood off his face. Mortals would have never caught it, but not one cultivator here fails to notice the way Shen Qingqiu flinches away from Luo Binghe’s gaze and instead turns to stare at Liu Qingge’s fingers on his wrist.

There’s an immediate shift in attention. Luo Binghe straightens under the combined power of it and stubbornly refuses to back down. Whatever they’re thinking, he knows his place is at Shen Qingqiu’s side, helping him recover. As Qi Qingqi watches him, her eyes narrow and she steps closer to Shen Qingqiu’s side. The words she leans in to whisper in Shen Qingqiu’s ear don’t escape further, but they can’t be anything good. Not with how Shen Qingqiu startles.

“Shimei worries too much,” Shen Qingqiu says, waving dismissively. “Nothing happened.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. As Qi Qingqi fusses over Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge mutters about it, Yue Qingyuan instead turns his focus entirely on Luo Binghe. It’s a mystery what he sees there, but no matter what it is, he knows Shen Qingqiu won’t dismiss him. Not after the last few weeks, surely.

“Perhaps Qingqiu-shidi should spend a night on Qian Cao Peak,” Yue Qingyuan says, but his eyes don’t leave Luo Binghe’s face. “Your disciple appears to be in fine shape to return on his own.”

That bastard. But Luo Binghe can’t call him on it here, around the rest.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shen Qingqiu thankfully says. “This shidi is fine.”

That is also the wrong thing to say. Qi Qingqi and Liu Qingge share a look before subtly starting to lead Shen Qingqiu off towards Qian Cao Peak anyway. The moment Luo Binghe takes a step forward to follow, Yue Qingyuan is in his path.

“Shizhi must be exhausted,” he says with the most placid smile on his face. “You should return home. Your master is in good hands.”

Openly challenging the sect leader won’t end well for anyone. It certainly won’t get Luo Binghe back to Shen Qingqiu’s side any faster. Biting back the urge to anyway, Luo Binghe offers a polite bow.

“Thanking Zhangmen-shibo for his concern,” he says and starts back towards Qing Jing.

He does not, however, actually arrive there. With the rest distracted by hovering around Shen Qingqiu, Luo Binghe pulls every trick he’s learned over the last while to mask his qi and follow after them. He gets there in time to see Shen Qingqiu notice where he’s been led and start complaining about their worries. A pulse of pure affection rolls over Luo Binghe at the sight. No matter what he’s gone through, Shizun is still Shizun.

Luo Binghe bides his time and sneaks in after most of the other peak lords have left. Shen Qingqiu has been bullied into spending the night in a patient room, it looks like. Outside his room door, Liu Qingge and Yue Qingyuan stand close, speaking in low voices. It takes everything Luo Binghe knows about sneaking around to get close enough to hear them.

“-disciple of his,” Liu Qingge’s muttering, his jaw tight. “Why wouldn’t they come back immediately?”

“It is suspicious,” Yue Qingyuan says. The words rankle. Just what do they think Luo Binghe might have done to his shizun!?

“He’s not going to send the boy away. We’ll have to do it.”

Just as Luo Binghe starts tensing with fury, Yue Qingyuan says, “It need not be so dramatic. Perhaps a few days apart will give us a better idea of what’s happened and we can make a decision after.”

Liu Qingge huffs out a breath. “It’s unnatural, the way he looks at Shen Qingqiu.”

“Without knowing Luo Binghe’s thoughts, there may be many explanations for what you’ve seen,” Yue Qingyuan says, surprisingly reasonable. That goes to hell when he adds, “A night hunt would be a good excuse.”

If they think Luo Binghe is going to let them send him away when Shizun hasn’t fully recovered-

“Wasn’t there a request to Bai Zhan that might take a week or so?” Yue Qingyuan asks and Liu Qingge blinks before realization hits him.

“I can’t stand that kid,” he says with a scowl. “A week with him-”

“Just remember. It’s for Qingqiu-shidi.”

Liu Qingge’s lips press into a hard line for a moment before he gives in. “Fine. I’ll fetch him in the morning.”

Is there a way for Luo Binghe to get out of this? He can’t think of anything immediately. Maybe he could claim fatigue or a cold or… or something! Who knows how far a night hunt might take him from Shen Qingqiu!

There’s no getting into Shen Qingqiu’s room so Luo Binghe can’t expect his support. Surely, Shizun wouldn’t be happy with him being sent away. Not after everything else. And… What if Luo Binghe’s control slips while he’s gone? As annoying as Liu Qingge can be…

It’s not a good idea. By morning, he still hasn’t figured out a way to get out of it, either. Liu Qingge arrives, gives him a few minutes to gather supplies that Luo Binghe drags out as long as he can, then they’re leaving. Luo Binghe isn’t even allowed to tell his shizun goodbye.

I’ll be back soon, Luo Binghe vows and starts thinking of the most efficient way to finish this in the shortest amount of time possible.

Being around Liu Qingge without Shen Qingqiu as a buffer is even more aggravating than Ming Fan at his worst. They can barely talk to one another and when their eyes meet, it’s more likely to be a glare than anything else.

Luo Binghe knows why he’s here. That just makes everything worse.

They get through the first two days without incident. Luo Binghe keeps his mind on the hunt and draws out everything Shen Qingqiu has ever said about this particular beast. Tracking the Turquoise Hornless Fern Manticore takes another half day and continues to be an excellent distraction. No need to talk about anything else when they have a job to do.

Fighting the manticore is even better. It takes them hours to bring it down. Much as they hate each other, Liu Qingge knows how to fight as a cohesive unit with another cultivator and Luo Binghe has plenty of practice working around the decisions of others from night hunts with his shixiongs and shijies that still don’t like him. They take on the manticore with minimal communication, using more gestures than words.

As Liu Qingge goes in for the frontal assault, Luo Binghe comes round the back to take a chunk of it out, then they switch. Their tag teaming keeps the manticore from being able to take advantage of the leafy underbrush and scuttle off to hide again, its fern-like back spines making for great camouflage. The spines will be a good trophy to bring back for Shizun, too.

Night has fallen by the time Luo Binghe dodges under the manticore’s flailing leg, taking the risk to dart in and sever a major artery in its thigh. That’s a near certain death blow, considering how much blood freely spurts from the wound. The way it’s starting to flag, the manticore isn’t long for this world and- And then Liu Qingge manages to behead the thing. Great. Luo Binghe keeps his disappointment to himself. Maybe this won’t be a good story to tell later, after all.

“Make camp,” Liu Qingge says, closely examining the manticore to make sure it can’t regenerate and come back to life. With how many beasts can do that as a last ditch escape plan, it’s an important duty to take. Luo Binghe still burns at having to listen to him.

It’s for Shizun, he reminds himself. I have to prove myself to them for Shizun.

They strip the beast for whatever ingredients might benefit the sect, packing it all away in the qiankun bag Liu Qingge brought along. The rest of it is burned. There’s no sense in attracting scavengers since the Turquoise Hornless Fern Manticore is known for the way eating its meat can cause dangerous frenzies.

Being far more advanced in his cultivation, Liu Qingge doesn’t have to sleep yet. He settles outside the small tent to meditate instead and Luo Binghe curls up inside after changing out of his terribly stained uniform to another he brought just for this reason. The blue-green stains from the manticore’s blood are never coming out. He laments not being able to forego rest like the War God can but there’s plenty of time for him to strengthen his cultivation. He’ll get there.

Are you finished moping? Meng Mo asks from the back of his mind.

Quiet.

Oh, so the brat doesn’t want this elder to assist in checking his peak lord’s dreams tonight.

Luo Binghe stiffens and then shuts his eyes, immediately forcing himself into sleep and ignoring the dream demon’s satisfied chuckle. Luo Binghe instead reaches out for a tunnel in the dreamscape Meng Mo leaves open for him, the faint accent of qi within it reminding him of Shen Qingqiu. The effect is immediate, loosening the tension from his shoulders and reminding him of why he’s doing all this.

I’m coming, Shizun!

It’s half way through the tunnel that the first gust of heated air hits Luo Binghe in the face. His heart drops into his stomach. By the time he’s climbed out the other side, Luo Binghe already knows what he’ll see.

The carnage has already started. Luo Binghe comes across a severed arm first, still dripping with blood. Then a leg, the second arm, and-

“Did Shizun forget how to scream?” he hears from nearby and sets off towards it at a dead run, even if he knows the metaphorical nature of the dream means he might still never arrive.

“Please.” Shen Qingqiu’s voice is so very weak that it breaks something in Luo Binghe. A second later, he’s busted through to the other end of the dreamscape in time to watch Shen Qingqiu’s other leg tear free of his body.

“Never again!” Luo Binghe snarls and relishes in the visceral enjoyment of tearing his double apart. The dream is already starting to fade around them, the pieces of the double going with it, but Luo Binghe knows all isn’t well yet. He turns back, jaw tightening at the sight of his precious master with no limbs at all.

Just because he’s torn the dream away doesn’t mean Shen Qingqiu’s psyche has realized it. Luo Binghe gathers his shizun up in his arms, murmuring soft comforts as he forms a nest of cloudlike pillows and gentle warmth around them. Shen Qingqiu’s tear streaked face presses into Luo Binghe’s shoulder, his body trembling, but it will pass. He knows it will pass. He-

“Why did Binghe leave this master?” Shen Qingqiu whispers as fingers curl in the front of Luo Binghe’s robes. Only the arms have returned so that this action is possible, the rest will be soon to follow once Shen Qingqiu’s sleeping mind forgets they’re gone.

“This disciple will be home soon,” he says. He pets Shen Qingqiu’s loose hair and holds him close. “He’ll be there soon.”

“What is he coming back for? This master will just find some other way to fail him.”

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Luo Binghe reminds himself that this isn’t really Shen Qingqiu speaking, not in a real way. It’s only a piece of his mind, one that had been in pain and hopelessly trapped. Pressing his cheek to Shen Qingqiu’s hair, he rocks his master in the cradle of every soft thought Luo Binghe has ever had about him and waits out the night.

Shen Qingqiu wakes before Luo Binghe wants to let him go. It’s not nearly enough rest. He’ll have to make sure his shizun can dream safely until the trauma of that dream finally lets him go.

Once Luo Binghe leaves the tent, Liu Qingge gets up and they pack up their camp. It will take another two days to get back to Cang Qiong Mountain, even pushing themselves to Luo Binghe’s limit, for it would be his limit that slowed them. One day, he reminds himself.

The first day goes well. Luo Binghe isn’t able to reach Shen Qingqiu’s sleeping mind that night, but it had become fairly common for his master to forego sleep for several nights at a time. Luo Binghe uses the time to train instead so that the dreams he crafts for Shen Qingqiu can be that much more solid.

The next day, a freak storm delays them by a few hours from the sheer strength of the winds and rain, but can’t stop them entirely. Liu Qingge says nothing as Luo Binghe refuses to wait it out anywhere. He’ll brave any obstacle to get home. His shizun is waiting for him, how could he not do everything he can to get to him faster?

When the mountain finally comes into view, Luo Binghe gets his second wind and pushes everything into flying there faster. Liu Qingge still ends up touching down on Qian Cao Peak before Luo Binghe does, but what does that matter now? He needs to see-

“You’re filthy,” Liu Qingge says, standing between Luo Binghe and the door. And he’s right, there’s dirt and grime from the storm ground into his clothes and his hair is a mess but- but…

“Shishu is wise,” Luo Binghe accepts begrudgingly. He races back to Qing Jing Peak, back to the bamboo house, and cleans himself up in record time. The more familiar he looks, the better Shen Qingqiu will be at not mistaking him for the dream-him. He drags his hair back and then goes straight back to Qian Cao.

Oh. Now he knows why Liu Qingge stopped him.

Yue Qingyuan stands outside the main clinic waiting for Luo Binghe. His usual smile is there, no sign of any strain he might be feeling due to Shen Qingqiu’s condition. As Luo Binghe offers him a polite bow, Yue Qingyuan nods to him.

“Qingqiu-shidi is sleeping,” he says.

That’s a lie, Meng Mo says in a smug tone.

“This disciple would hate to disturb his shizun, but he worries for Shizun’s comfort. He knows best how to care for-”

“Your shizun is receiving excellent care. There’s no need for Shizhi to be here when there are plenty of duties a head disciple should be doing on his peak.”

The dismissal galls. Maybe it’s his awakened demon blood, maybe it’s just a part of him, but Luo Binghe barely keeps himself from tearing the sect leader’s smile right off his face. Shen Qingqiu’s side is where Luo Binghe should be, always. The longer he’s not, the more off center he feels.

Luo Binghe bows again and turns, but again doesn’t actually leave. Getting around Yue Qingyuan’s well honed senses is difficult, not impossible. He just has to wait until something else requires Yue Qingyuan’s attention, then sneak his way past to get deeper into the well organized clinic spaces. Instinct tells him he’s going the right way. His master needs him. As Luo Binghe creeps around the long term care rooms, he pauses as he catches the sound of a familiar voice.

“Not a bite?” Mu Qingfang asks, voice pitched low.

“Nothing,” some disciple of his says. “He accepted a cup of tea, but didn’t drink it. He just held it until it grew cold in his hands.”

Luo Binghe inches his way closer, glances just enough around a corner that he can see the side of Mu Qingfang’s face. Worry is clear on it, as is vague frustration.

“Go,” he says. “This master will take the next meal to Shen-shixiong.”

The disciple bows and hurries away. Luo Binghe follows Mu Qingfang all the way to Shen Qingqiu’s room. His master refusing food isn’t a good sign at all. Shen Qingqiu adores the comforts of mortality. For him to not sleep or eat… Luo Binghe’s belly twists hard. It may be worse than he thought.

There’s an hour or so of waiting before Luo Binghe can sneak to his master’s door. He lets himself in, closing it as quietly as he can, but he’s still noticed.

“Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu calls, quiet and unsure in a way Luo Binghe truly hates hearing.

“This disciple humbly begs Shizun’s forgiveness for his late return,” he says with a deep bow towards the bed where Shen Qingqiu sits.

“Nonsense. Binghe has nothing to apologize for.”

The relief of Shen Qingqiu’s voice ripples through Luo Binghe’s body. He hurries forward even before Shen Qingqiu reaches for him and sighs with soft joy to press his cheek into his shizun’s hand.

“Did the hunt go well?” Shen Qingqiu asks, his thumb brushing gently under Luo Binghe’s eye.

“Yes. This disciple has several gifts for Shizun from it.”

Shen Qingqiu scoffs but doesn’t pull his hand away. “Binghe should save those sentiments for his future wives.”

It’s still a little over two years before Luo Binghe will be old enough to ask anyone for marriage, but the idea that he would ask someone other than Shen Qingqiu is laughable. Who could possibly compare to him?

“Would Shizun allow this disciple to prepare a light meal?” he asks because it’s still too early to say I love you.

“This master would like that very much.”

Luo Binghe brightens and hurries to provide.

The deception is quickly noticed, but by then, Mu Qingfang has decided Luo Binghe is a necessary evil if only because he has been able to get Shen Qingqiu to even begin his healing process. That doesn’t make Liu Qingge or Yue Qingyuan happy, but the moment they voice that, Shen Qingqiu looks them dead in the eye without amusement.

“Are this master’s martial siblings questioning his competency?” he asks with ice in his voice. “Because if they are not, he invites them to mind their own peaks and leave decisions about his disciples to him.”

For a moment, Yue Qingyuan looks stricken. Then it’s gone and Luo Binghe almost wonders if he’d seen it at all. Whatever the case, Shen Qingqiu seems to have made his point. Yue Qingyuan nods to him and shuffles Liu Qingge out with him. The War God shoots back one last glare before the door closes.

“I think I’d like to leave,” Shen Qingqiu says. He turns back to look at Luo Binghe, considering. “Has Binghe checked the house? These fussy old women have found any number of excuses to keep this master here.”

“Begging Shizun’s forgiveness. This disciple was far more concerned with returning to his side.”

The warmth in Shen Qingqiu’s eyes is well worth the brief absence. “This master hoped to see Binghe quickly, too.”

Everything will be okay as long as they’re together. Luo Binghe knows this down to the deepest part of his soul. The next person that dares to try and separate them will have to contend with Zheng Yang.

Actually getting to leave is more a trial in patience than anything else. With Shen Qingqiu’s recovery obvious once Luo Binghe was back at his side, none of the other peak lords have reason to hold him there. Even less to keep Luo Binghe away from him. A smug curl of satisfaction settles in Luo Binghe’s chest and refuses to be dislodged.

Perhaps Liu Qingge and Yue Qingyuan covet his master, but Luo Binghe is the one who’s actually welcome to take care of him properly.

A crowd of disciples meet them at the gate and Shen Qingqiu blossoms as he greets them with good natured scolding. It would be better if only Luo Binghe got to see this, but… He’s already resigned himself to sharing his shizun with his peakmates. At least some of them. If Ming Fan doesn’t let go of Shizun’s hand in the next five seconds, he won’t have any of his own anymore-

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu calls and immediately Luo Binghe brightens up again. “Let’s go home.”

Nothing has ever sounded so sweet as that.

[Punishment protocol complete.]

Shen Qingqiu startles. It’s been a while since he and Luo Binghe returned to their normal lives. Well, normal except for the occasional trickle of demonic qi or a little more edge to Luo Binghe’s smiles, but Shen Qingqiu is already getting used to that. It’s just part of getting to keep his little white lotus for himself. Anything is worth that! And the dreams haven’t even been that bad in the last month, Luo Binghe is getting very good at dispelling nightmares.

“What kind of bullshit are you going on about now?” he mutters to the System.

[The punishment protocol has been successfully completed and a new quest is available!]

Not being punished anymore is great, but surely this is going to bite him in the ass somehow. Eyes narrowing, Shen Qingqiu glares at the innocuous blue box in front of him. “And what is this new quest?”

[Answering Host: newly available quest is “A Gentler Hand: Enter Malewife, Stage Left” Please continue working hard!]

Shen Qingqiu almost spits blood, dropping the book he’d been holding. “What?! What the fuck does that mean?!”

[The reward for completing this storyline is 5000 protagonist’s satisfaction points!]

Suspicious. Whatever the System means by malewife, Shen Qingqiu really, really doesn’t want to know. He’s no wife! He can’t even make tea properly, no matter that he’s watched Luo Binghe do it for years.

“And for failing?”

[Failing to complete the Happy Wife, Happy Life storyline will result in a loss of 10,000,000 protagonist’s satisfaction points.]

“The what?” Is Shen Qingqiu having a stroke? Where did this even come from? “Who’s the malewife?!”

System, you’re bugged!

[Host is reminded that he initiated this genre change.]

“When did I ask for a genre change? Stop putting words in my mouth!”

Shen Qingqiu is this close to bursting a vein, he can already feel it. Before he can argue further, he hears a familiar voice in the other room and decides he’ll deal with that later. This is too important a day to waste time on that crummy, buggy System. He’s been waiting on pins and needles for his order to come in and had thought it would be too late when it finally showed up yesterday.

Talk about drama! Is this what the plot calls suspense these days? Just because things are peaceful now, it doesn’t mean minor inconveniences should become major problems!

In any case, Shen Qingqiu walks into the main room just as Luo Binghe sets down a tray with his tea service. The smile he’s offered is so bright, Shen Qingqiu feels blinded by it. That’s the protagonist for you. Even if he’s a little late in building his harem, his inescapable beauty and charisma cannot be discounted!

Wait, would Luo Binghe even build a harem now that he isn’t driven by betrayal and rage? It’s not like he’s got any plans to leave Qing Jing anytime soon. Oh, what is Shen Qingqiu thinking? As if Luo Binghe would be happy with only one wife! He deserves a whole host of beauties to choose from.

“Please excuse this disciple,” Luo Binghe says cheerfully, straightening up again. “He wanted to make sure preparations for the festival are still on schedule and is late bringing dinner.”

“There’s nothing to excuse. This master knows how important this is.”

Another bright smile and Luo Binghe ducks away to fetch the rest of his offering. On today of all days, Shen Qingqiu should really be the one pulling out all the stops. Finally, he can celebrate this day without thinking about how little time he has left! Safe from the plot, all he has to do now is continue enjoying his life of teaching his disciples and spoiling his Binghe.

Or, well. Getting spoiled by his Binghe, but still! It’s the thought that counts!

When Luo Binghe returns, he lays out a veritable feast of plenty. Five, six, seven- just how much had he cooked?! They’ll never be able to finish it all! Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widen with each plate that’s set down, his mouth watering despite his surprise. “Binghe! Why-”

“This disciple wanted to make today special,” his innocent little white lotus says with such heartfelt joy. This master apologizes! Binghe can cook whatever he likes!

“Every day with Binghe is special,” Shen Qingqiu says. Curiously, this makes his sensitive disciple tear up a little. “Sit! Sit, sit, there’s no sense in letting Binghe’s hard work go to waste!”

The feast is even better than it looked. Shen Qingqiu eats far more than he means to as Luo Binghe details some of the more notable aspects of the festival only days away. It’s going to be very fun and Shen Qingqiu is looking forward to exploring it with- Well, surely Luo Binghe will want to go with his friends, not hang around indulging this old man.

“There’s to be fireworks over the river,” Luo Binghe’s saying when Shen Qingqiu tunes back in. There’s something tentative in his tone, wondering. “The reflection is sure to bring even more beauty from them. Maybe Shizun would like to watch them with this disciple?”

How sweet! Truly, Shen Qingqiu has the best disciple in the world, thinking to include his shizun!

“This master would hardly wish to intrude on such a perfect way for Binghe to spend time with a young lady,” he demures. He can’t possibly stand in the way of an obvious summertime romance plot!

“There is no one this Binghe would rather watch them with.”

Something twinges in Shen Qingqiu’s chest. He can’t quite make himself look away from Luo Binghe’s earnest gaze, drowning in the depths of his star-filled eyes. Sometimes, when Luo Binghe looks at him, Shen Qingqiu almost feels like he’s being devoured.

“Oh,” he says and shoves himself up to his feet. “This master must retrieve something.”

He escapes to his bedroom and can finally take in a full breath. Why is it that ever since the conference, Shen Qingqiu keeps getting flustered around his innocent disciple!? Maybe someday Luo Binghe would branch out and begin his promised stallion life, but right now he’s still Shen Qingqiu’s! Destiny can wait! It must just be some hold over from one or another dream, he’s sure.

The box he retrieves from his room is small, thinner than his palm and barely longer than his forearm. It suddenly seems so insufficient now that the time has come to give it to Luo Binghe. This isn’t so much a milestone here as it would be in his old world, but Shen Qingqiu just doesn’t feel right about not marking it in some way. What kind of master would he be if he didn’t celebrate his cherished disciple’s accomplishments!

Well, this is less of an accomplishment and more of… It’s not going to mean anything to Luo Binghe, of course, Shen Qingqiu is just doing it because… Because.

He forces himself to return to the other room where Luo Binghe has cleaned up from dinner while he was dithering. His disciple sits politely where Shen Qingqiu left him even so, curiously glancing between the box and Shen Qingqiu’s face.

“This master thought…” Shen Qingqiu swallows the odd lump in his throat. “He wanted to thank Binghe for all his hard work.”

“Just being at Shizun’s side is all the thanks this disciple needs,” Luo Binghe assures him as Shen Qingqiu sits back down. Listen to this charmer! Keep your lines for your wives!

“Binghe deserves far more than this,” Shen Qingqiu says and then presents the box to him. It’s a simple thing, plain, and Shen Qingqiu suddenly wishes he’d thought to decorate it in some way. Maybe he should have painted it? Or gotten something more intricate. Maybe he-

Luo Binghe takes the box with a reverence it doesn’t at all deserve. “Thanking Shizun.”

The way Luo Binghe carefully opens it, one would think it made of the thinnest eggshells. He sets the top to the side and starts unwrapping the soft red silk cushioning his gift within it. Abruptly, Luo Binghe goes still and just stares inside.

“Binghe doesn’t have to wear them if he doesn’t like them,” Shen Qingqiu assures him and Luo Binghe snaps his head up.

“No! No, this disciple would be honored to- He just-” Those beautiful eyes are already wet and shining, his precious crybaby. Luo Binghe carefully lifts one of the three hair sticks up as if he thinks it made of glass. It almost looks like glass, filigree so thin and intricate in the shape of snowflakes, dozens of them in shining silver. Barely making contact, Luo Binghe brushes a finger along the decorative end to trace over them.

Maybe something like this would be better off given to a lovely young woman but as soon as Shen Qingqiu saw examples of the craftsman’s work, he could only imagine them accenting his Binghe’s beauty.

“Binghe can’t wear a lot of normal finery in his hair,” Shen Qingqiu starts explaining, his belly in knots. “While handsome, it’s so thick! So this master thought… Something like this would work alongside his usual things and be better to decorate himself with.”

The predictable tears arrive and Shen Qingqiu frets even as Luo Binghe smiles and examines the second hair stick. This one is far less delicate, probably more fitting for the man Luo Binghe will become. The sculpted dragon is even lovelier than he’d hoped, a true masterwork! Its thin body wraps around several inches of the shaft, every scale lovingly rendered and tiny, piercing red rubies for its eyes. This, too, Luo Binghe touches as if it were priceless. It certainly isn’t priceless, Shen Qingqiu spent far more than he probably should have!

“Shizun believes this disciple is worthy of such beautiful things?” Luo Binghe asks with a quivering lip.

The answer comes easily off Shen Qingqiu’s tongue despite his misgivings about everything else. “Binghe deserves to have the world in his hands.”

The third hairstick is by far the most understated and yet, Shen Qingqiu thinks it is probably the best one. Made of the purest white jade, gold traces along the wider tip in a thin lattice before converging into an intricately woven thicket of delicate leaves. Cradled within them, delicate petals of a blooming lotus flower are expertly crafted from the underlying jade base into something truly breathtaking.

“It… It’s too much, isn’t it?” Shen Qingqiu worries, but Luo Binghe just carefully sets them back into their box and wraps the silk back over them. “This master… He simply thought…”

“Shizun is too good to this disciple,” Luo Binghe says, his smile not wide but utterly heartfelt.

Looking away before he can be too mesmerized by the protagonist’s overwhelming halo, Shen Qingqiu forces his fingers to stop picking at the edge of his robe. “It… It’s too little for what Binghe has done for this master, but… Happy birthday, Binghe.”

A helpless little laugh escapes Luo Binghe as he shifts up more on his knees. “Shizun… Shizun, may this greedy disciple ask for one more gift?”

“On this day only will he be indulged,” Shen Qingqiu vows, despite knowing he’ll break at the first sign of tears some other time.

“Will Shizun permit this one the honor of… Would he allow…” Luo Binghe shifts nervously before Shen Qingqiu as if whatever he has in mind will be some great hardship. Bah, what could Luo Binghe ask for that Shen Qingqiu would not at least try to provide him? And-

Ah? Why is Luo Binghe moving closer?

Why is he leaning in?

What-

The softest pressure against his lips has Shen Qingqiu freezing even as heat flares through his face. He’s still wide eyed when Luo Binghe draws back to sit like a prim and proper disciple, as if he hadn’t- As if he…

What?!

“Once he’s of age, this disciple would be honored to formally court Shizun, if allowed.”

He can’t have heard that right. Shen Qingqiu hasn’t moved at all. Court- That can’t mean what he- Huh?

Just what kind of genre change had he brought about?!

[Answering Host: he has successfully guided the story to becoming a heartwarming danmei!]

“I-” Isn’t Luo Binghe supposed to have a whole gaggle of beautiful wives? Why would he- for this old man! “Binghe is still young, he may change his mind!”

“He won’t,” Binghe says confidently. This wily disciple!

“He- But this is…”

Binghe smiles more brightly. “This disciple doesn’t mind spending the next two years convincing Shizun of his sincerity.”

Oh no. Why does it seem like he’s awakened some great, mythical beast?

Well. There are worse things than being Luo Binghe’s bride-

Wait, which of them would be the bride?!

[Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Important things must be said-]

Shen Qingqiu silences the notification with prejudice.