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Luo Binghe cleaned the blood off Shen Qingqiu’s face and then began the repair of Shen Qingqiu’s spiritual pathways. His heart trembled to feel the extent of the damage. He had sworn that he would never let Shen Qingqiu be hurt on his behalf again, and yet he had allowed this to happen. Luo Binghe was useless. Worse than useless: Shen Qingqiu had had to sacrifice his spiritual core to save Luo Binghe from being possessed by Xin Mo because Luo Binghe had been too weak—
The reminder had Luo Binghe reluctantly stepping away from Shen Qingqiu. He had expended as much spiritual energy as he dared: If he allowed himself to become weaker, he would be more vulnerable to Xin Mo. In his mind, he heard the gentle admonishment, ‘don’t let it overpower your mind.’
“This disciple will obey Shizun,” Luo Binghe said quietly.
What he hadn’t expected was any sort of reply.
“Good! At least you will heed his advice,” Meng Mo said bitterly.
Luo Binghe thought he may have felt a spark of irritation. It couldn’t really reach him through the ocean of grief, but he thought it was what he should feel.
“Elder Mo,” he said coldly.
He must have gotten more tired than he expected. Or perhaps it was just that he had focused too completely on suppressing Xin Mo, and neglected his defenses against Meng Mo.
Or, perhaps, his useless, childish, weak desperation for guidance -for some idea about what to do to fix this- had summoned the only other person whose instruction he had ever accepted.
“I warned you. Xin Mo doesn’t serve those who wield it. Xin Mo destroys them.”
Luo Binghe didn’t answer. Meng Mo had warned him about the cost of claiming Xin Mo. He had never imagined that he wouldn’t be the one to pay that cost.
“It’s not too late for you. Throw this sword back in the Abyss where you found it before Xin Mo uses its next opportunity to overpower you. You may not be so fortunate next time.”
Luo Binghe could have laughed at this moment. He didn’t. His chest felt queerly cold and dead even as his heart burned within it.
“Does Elder Mo think me fortunate?”
It was Meng Mo’s turn to be silent. He looked at Luo Binghe’s face and then looked directly at Shen Qingqiu for the first time. Meng Mo sighed.
“Then listen to that little shijie of yours. Don’t let your shizun’s sacrifice be in vain.”
Luo Binghe tiredly considered that.
“…But if I don’t have Xin Mo, how can I protect Shizun?”
“Protect him from what? Your shizun is—”
Luo Binghe couldn’t hear the words. He suddenly threw out a blast of spiritual energy. Meng Mo managed to dodge the blast. He shut his mouth then, understanding the blast for the warning it was.
Shen Qingqiu wasn’t dead. Luo Binghe would repair his body and do what he could to help him wake up again. This is why he couldn’t let Cang Qiong Mountain have his body; they would bury him and let his body rot without even trying.
Meng Mo was silent for a long time after. Luo Binghe felt his eyes on him. He didn’t care to look at him. He waited for Meng Mo to give up and release him from the dream realm.
This didn’t happen. The silence stretched on. Luo Binghe’s flare of anger had dissipated as quickly as it had ignited. He returned to feeling cold and tired. And still, Meng Mo looked at him.
Finally, Meng Mo said, “You won’t be at peace until you are at your shizun’s side.”
Luo Binghe didn’t bother to answer.
“And if I don’t tell you now, you will seal me away again, and who knows if I will ever get another chance,” Meng Mo muttered.
“…”
Luo Binghe couldn’t muster up any curiosity. Meng Mo sighed.
“I will tell you, then. You can use Xin Mo to go back to a moment before this happened. Let Xin Mo make you some amends.”
Luo Binghe frowned. “What are you saying? Do you mean that…Xin Mo can travel through time?”
Meng Mo drew himself up haughtily. “That’s right. You disdain this ancestor’s teachings, but could your shizun have taught you that? Xin Mo can cut through one thousand li. Why could it not cut through one thousand days?”
Luo Binghe drew in a great breath. Hope and life returned to him together.
“I can go back.”
Meng Mo grimaced to hear the joy in Luo Binghe’s voice.
“Just don’t forget; Xin Mo is the reason you need to go back at all!”
“Thank you, Elder,” Lou Binghe said with a bow.
He drew Xin Mo and told it his wish. Xin Mo took on a purple glow. A rift opened before Luo Binghe and Luo Binghe stepped through. The world collapsed and reformed around him.
.*.*.*.*.*.
When the world had a shape again, Luo Binghe was sprawled on the banks of the Luo River covered in mud and blood. His body ached in the aftermath of a tremendous effort.
“I told you to take me back to before I fell into the Abyss, not the moment I emerged from it,” Luo Binghe reminded Xin Mo.
He had wanted to look Shen Qingqiu in the eyes again in the moments before Shen Qingqiu pushed him. He wanted to tell him that he didn’t blame him, and that there was no need to repay him.
Xin Mo’s energy hissed as it faded. Luo Binghe tried a few times, but Xin Mo absolutely refused to take him farther back. Luo Binghe was forced to admit defeat. Of course Xin Mo wouldn’t take him farther back. It didn’t want to risk undoing the moment Luo Binghe found it. Instead of getting to speak to Shen Qingqiu before the misunderstanding set in, Luo Binghe would have to go to him after the fact and correct it.
And so Luo Binghe found himself in much the same position as he had been when he first emerged from the Endless Abyss. He knew now that Shen Qingqiu would be terrified if Luo Binghe showed up at their Bamboo Cottage…and yet Luo Binghe didn’t know what else to do. He certainly would not repeat the mistake of going to Huan Hua Palace instead of running straight back to his shizun.
There was no decision to be made once this thought struck him. He couldn’t bear to go anywhere else but to Shen Qingqiu’s side. Luo Binghe used Xin Mo to cut a rift that brought him to Qing Jing Peak. He rushed through the rift and then hesitated stupidly at the door to the Bamboo House.
He couldn’t mess this up again. He had to be clear and honest. He had to make sure that Shen Qingqiu understood his feelings.
As Luo Binghe deliberated, he heard footsteps coming around from the forest behind the cottage. They were slower and heavier than Luo Binghe was used to, but he recognized him immediately.
Shen Qingqiu stopped when he saw Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe drank in the sight of him. His graceful, upright figure. His clear, gentle gaze. His elegant lips, which had parted in surprise.
“Binghe?”
Shen Qingqiu’s voice was neither cold nor warm. But, as he looked at Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu paled.
Luo Binghe dropped to kneel. He felt just as sick now as he had felt in Jinlan City when he’d seen Shen Qingqiu look at him like this. But now he knew why Shen Qingqiu wore that expression.
“Shizun! This disciple has returned. This disciple hopes to continue learning from Shizun.”
Shen Qingqiu visibly swayed. For a moment, Luo Binghe feared that Shen Qingqiu would run from him the way he had that night at Jinlan City. But Shen Qingqiu stayed in place. He swallowed and stared, and now Luo Binghe could see the guilt and shame that had looked like disgust in Jinlan City. The silence while he waited for Shen Qingqiu’s response was unbearable.
Finally, Shen Qingqiu broke that silence.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, in a rush, as if the words had been unwilling.
Luo Binghe blinked in surprise. Why would Shen Qingqiu think— then he remembered that he was covered in blood. Shen Qingqiu was worried that it was his blood. The truth was that it wasn’t. But Luo Binghe knew better than to take away Shen Qingqiu’s reason for staying. He lowered his gaze shyly and put his hand to his side as if it hurt. He discretely opened a long cut under his hand.
Shen Qingqiu was mortally afraid of Luo Binghe. He was convinced that Luo Binghe would only come back to get revenge for the fact that Shen Qingqiu had thrown Luo Binghe into the Endless Abyss. But, for some reason, instead of running away, he ran towards Luo Binghe. He put his arms around Luo Binghe.
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe cried, half-choked with tears.
“Shh. This master will—” Shen Qingqiu said comfortingly and immediately, as if it were his habit, before stumbling to a stop. But then he continued bravely on. “This master will treat your injuries first.”
“Shizun!” Luo Binghe cried again as he let himself fall into Shen Qingqiu’s body. Shen Qingqiu stumbled a bit under Luo Binghe’s weight but he readjusted his hold without complaint.
“…Why are you crying?” Shen Qingqiu asked, sounding torn between pity and confusion.
He could not say so, but he was crying tears of relief. Any doubt he had had about Shen Qingqiu’s intentions on that roof vanished. Shen Qingqiu wanted more than anything for Luo Binghe to be safe. His tears were also crying tears of remorse. He had nearly lost this.
Shen Qingqiu gently helped Luo Binghe into the Bamboo House and onto a couch.
“Wait here. I’ll bring medicine,” Shen Qingqiu said and turned to leave.
Luo Binghe clung to his hand.
“Shizun. Don’t leave. I- I missed you so much,” he said.
Shen Qingqiu’s brows twitched. He stared at Luo Binghe with a pained, shifting expression. Doubt and guilt seemed to war in his eyes. Luo Binghe swallowed. He had to make Shen Qingqiu believe him.
“I don’t know why Shizun threw me into the Endless Abyss,” he said quietly.
Shen Qingqiu tensed and tried to withdraw his hand. Luo Binghe held onto it and spoke more quickly.
“But I remember that Shizun once said...that even if an accident befell Shizun, no misfortune would come to this disciple.”
Shen Qingqiu stopped struggling and looked at him with wide eyes. Doubt seemed to be winning out, and Luo Binghe’s heart stirred with panic. He couldn’t lose Shen Qingqiu’s trust.
“Shizun was right! This disciple survived the Endless Abyss, just as he survived the fight on Qiong Ding Peak.”
Shen Qingqiu’s lips parted as if he wished to speak. Luo Binghe waited, but Shen Qingqiu said nothing. He inhaled sharply and closed his eyes.
“Binghe,” he said softly.
Luo Binghe heard the tinge of sadness in his voice and finally felt some hope. If Shen Qingqiu was pitying him, he wouldn’t push him away. Luo Binghe scrambled for more words with which to seize the opportunity. He found that the memories, upon which he’d reflected in grief and bitterness before, seemed very different now.
“You asked before the Immortal Alliance Conference,” Luo Binghe remembered. “Whether I wanted to be strong.”
“…”
“Shizun asked whether I was willing to suffer through pain, torment, and tribulations to become strong.”
Shen Qingqiu shut his eyes harder. “Binghe…”
“I said yes,” Luo Binghe reminded them both.
He let it linger. The silence stretched on as Shen Qingqiu’s wrist relaxed in Luo Binghe’s hand. Shen Qingqiu finally spoke, his eyes opening slowly.
“This master…”
His voice was hoarse and so quiet that Luo Binghe had to strain to listen. In looking at Shen Qingqiu’s face, he noticed the redness in the corner of Shen Qingqiu’s eyes. He noticed the brimming of tears until one overflowed. Luo Binghe had reached up to catch it before he could think better of it.
Shen Qingqiu froze. Luo Binghe froze.
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe murmured.
Shen Qingqiu drew away just far enough that he could forcibly wipe the tears away. Luo Binghe let him but he caught his hand when he was done, so that Shen Qingqiu couldn’t run away.
“Shizun,” he repeated. “I said yes. Does Shizun know why?”
“Of course I remember,” Shen Qingqiu replied. “You said, ‘to protect the people and things that are important to me.’”
Luo Binghe nodded. “That is what this disciple said back then”
Shen Qingqiu blinked at him looking confused.
“This disciple did not dare to say…that, truthfully, the one this disciple wanted to protect was Shizun,” he said shyly.
Shen Qingqiu blinked again. He didn’t look any less confused than before.
“Your injuries,” he muttered.
There was a dazed look to his eyes. Luo Binghe sensed that his shizun needed a moment to think. He let go of his wrist. Shen Qingqiu walked carefully away gathering materials for treating wounds. He paused when he was done and took a deep breath as if steeling himself. Then he walked back to Luo Binghe.
“Take off your robes,” Shen Qingqiu said absentmindedly.
He jolted then, as if shocked at himself, but Luo Binghe had already silently obeyed. Shen Qingqiu hesitated and blushed once Luo Binghe’s chest was bare.
Luo Binghe noticed, of course. A small flame lit in his belly as he wondered about that blush, and it only grew as Shen Qingqiu gently touched his body. His hands were so careful in wiping away the blood. They hesitated upon touching the scar over his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Luo Binghe’s breath caught. The apology had been a quiet, pained thing. It didn’t seem entirely intentional. As if Shen Qingqui was in so much pain looking at the scar that he couldn’t help the outburst.
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe breathed, elated to find even more evidence that Shen Qingqiu cared for him.
Shen Qingqiu was obviously flustered by Luo Binghe’s reaction.
“I— I didn’t mean to stab you. I thought you would move away and…”
He pressed his palm against the scar, his brows creased in anguish. Luo Binghe set out to distract him from that anguish.
“Shizun, that wound doesn’t hurt now that you’ve tended to it. But there’s one on my side…”
He grimaced as if in pain, and Shen Qingqiu hurriedly got back to work. He was so focused on treating the wound that he forgot to maintain control over his expression. Luo Binghe could clearly see the shifts from uncertainty to fear to compassion on Shen Qingqiu’s face. He didn’t know whether he could trust Luo Binghe, but he seemed unable to stop himself from caring for him. Luo Binghe felt giddy by the time Shen Qingqiu finished applying bandages.
Then Shen Qingqiu pressed his hand over the wound and began sending spiritual energy through the wound to heal it. Luo Binghe took his hand and stopped him.
“Don’t,” he said softly.
“Hm?” Shen Qingqiu asked, distracted and confused.
Luo Binghe swallowed.
“What’s wrong? Did I press too hard?”
Luo Binghe shook his head automatically.
“Then…what should this master do?”
Luo Binghe looked at Shen Qingqiu’s guarded expression, at the medicine kit all around them, and he didn’t know what came over him, but he suddenly pulled Shen Qingqiu into his arms. What he needed from Shen Qingqiu was simply for Shen Qingqiu to be beside him always. He wished to never be apart from him again. Luo Binghe remembered the last gentle embrace Shen Qingqiu had given him and suddenly his eyes filled with tears.
“Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu asked.
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe cried. “Don’t leave me again.”
Shen Qingqiu went stiff in his arms.
“Are….are you crying again?” he asked, sounding shaken.
Luo Binghe struggled to get ahold of himself, to blink away the tears and swallow the tension in his throat, but his face was close to Shen Qingqiu’s ear. How could Shen Qingqiu not hear? Luo Binghe was indeed crying.
“Binghe…” Shen Qingqiu said.
“…” Luo Binghe sniffled.
Shen Qingqiu wrapped his arms around Luo Binghe and began urgently stroking his back.
“Don’t…don’t cry. If the wound hurts that much, then this master…this master will regulate your breathing.”
It was another way of healing injuries with spiritual energy. But it would involve holding him for a while.
Luo Binghe nodded. “Okay.”
“…”
They didn’t move.
“…We can’t lay down if you don’t let go of me.”
Luo Binghe didn’t want to let go. So he let himself fall backwards onto the couch bringing Shen Qingqiu with him, as Shen Qingqiu had done once upon a time. Shen Qingqiu scrambled for a bit.
“Binghe!” he yelped.
Luo Binghe let his voice be a little raspy as he asked, “Is this fine, Shizun?”
Shen Qingqiu stopped struggling. Luo Binghe could practically hear his exasperation warring with his pity, until his pity won.
“…Yes, it’s fine.”
Shen Qingqiu silently adjusted his posture and settled in to gently circulate their meridians. Luo Binghe let himself doze off still clinging to Shen Qingqiu, safe in the knowledge that Shen Qingqiu loved him.