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Rarely were they separated but Luo Binghe’s darling shizun had to go on a trip with the newest Qing Jing peak disciples. Normally, Luo Binghe always deeply wished to return beside his shizun. Often times, going off with Shizun on his trips. After all, he was once the Qing Jing’s head disciple. Now…they were married and Binghe could only think about that.
His shizun chose him. Him to marry. Not that bastard Liu Qingge or Yue Qingyuan. He chose him. It feels like a dream come true. It is a dream come true. When Luo Binghe became the head disciple, when he moved into the bamboo house, he dreamed of such beautiful moments. Taking care of shizun, cooking, cleaning, washing, and such other acitives entering his mind. He wanted to be by shizun’s side forever. As a teen, he felt like that was the best he was going to get. Shizun was shizun. Too Luo Binghe he was unbreakable, powerful, and perfect (he still is perfect but he knows now that his husbabd can break- he shoves the thoughts away).
They had the tea first, then they bowed. Luo Binghe wishes his Shizun wore red. To see him in that beautiful red. To unveil him and see his beautiful eyes.
Next week will be perfect, because he can take shizun out. Travel up north. Find some monsters; bring a picnic along so that shizun will be able to eat. His shizun has been more energetic. More stamina (Luo Binghe can tell his master’s growing skill in bed). They’ll have so much time and he’ll even get to pray for his mother on her birthday-
The brush snaps under his hands, the top half falling to the floor. Silence following. His eyes stare at the half-finished character. Not even done. Moving his eyes, splatters of ink go from the table to the floor. The bristles dripping with ink.
His mother’s birthday is next week.
His mother’s birth-
He shakily puts down the broken brush, then picks up a new brush. He doesn’t dip it in the ink or move. Staring at the strokes on the paper. The glow of his mark growing a little brighter.
Luo Binghe is married and his mother’s birthday is next week.
He doesn’t finish the letter.
The immortal master of Qing Jing peak, filled the cracks in Luo Binghe’s heart at a young age. Every gentle smile, every head pat, every quiet compliment, or hmm when he examined his work. It filled his once shattered heart. Carefully or delicatly replacing emptiness with kindness. A hopeful purpose. A longing to repay that kindness slowly becoming love. Those years at the bamboo house taught him so much and the kindness he treasured every single day. It…it didn’t help every problem.
His jade pendent…his mother’s gift, that hole never disappeared.
The joys of his shizun’s kindness gave his life new meaning. To know that he is loved and cherished. His mother loved him and shizun loves him. He loves his shizun in return. That felt simple enough but some days, he felt the missing weight of the necklace. Some days he went to hold it only too find nothing. Some days, he stood in the same spot, trying to find it.
He pushed it all down because he had something so wonderful. A beautiful rare gem of love. He’ll miss his mother and her gift but shizun existed. Shizun loves him. Shizun wants him. He wants shizun. He loves his shizun. Luo Binghe thought it all simple.
You can ignore holes until you fall into them.
Standing over the pool, staring at his reflection, his hands touch the necklace around his neck. Feeling the cold jade touch his fingers. Feeling the shape of guanyin’s face. He remembered the day he lost it. The same day his shizun saved him from his bullies. Once, his shizun looked the other way. Often despising and hating him (cause Luo Binghe knew that look even before becoming a demon. Knowing every vicious glare or sneer on the street. His shizun once gave him the same looks). Then…he was given medicine, then saved him. Shizun decided enough was enough. That Luo Binghe deserved more than beatings. He still has the blood splattered leaf. Cleaned and placed in a box with bamboo in the bamboo house bedrom.
Still he remembered searching for his necklace. Remembered how he’d go looking for it every night until his studies and shizun took priority. Luo Binghe didn’t cry. He had someone to look forward in meeting everday. A wonderful distraction. Though the feeling of his necklace, he always missed. He missed it dearly. Sometimes he wondered if someone took it. Sometimes he wondered so many different things.
On that dreadful day, Shizun gave it back to him. His mother’s present. His jade pendeant. Through teary sobs, he felt the weight around his neck. He saw the blood and felt the warmth and saw his immortal master’s face. An expression that Luo Binghe had etched in his memory (though the full memory is scarred into his heart and mind).
Shizun kept it.
Shizun gave it back to him.
Shizun kept it even through everything that happened.
Luo Binghe thinks of his mother’s face as he stares at his reflection.
He doesn’t leave the pool.
“Do either you have mother’s?”
Mobei jun and Sha Hualing’s eyes move towards him. Calculated and sharp. As the empereor of demons, Luo Binghe’s generals were still on call when needed. Though both were still reluctant to leave what they were doing (Luo Binghe watched five years of Mobei and shizun’s shishu flirt wildly, and Sha Hualing is still failing to court Liu Mingyuan). They stared at the empereor, clearly taking in his words before Sha Hualing started first.
“Of course. Though she’s dead now.” Sha Hualing starts, shrugging with much a simple answer. Mobei jun nods along.
“I see…what are demon mothers liked compared to human mothers?” He asks and Mobei starts.
“She was orginally my uncle’s wife before my father stole her from him.”
Sha Hualing grins and speaks, “Thats so common, my father and mother met when slaughtering some cultivators.”
Luo Binghe tilts his head, “…what about raising you?”
Meng Mo once explained to him that for all demons often looked down on humans, they took a lot of cultural terms that belonged to humans. The higher class demons, used the same respectful terms and lower class demons knew of these terms, they were only used in a simple non-affectionate way. Seeing however, Mobeji jun and Sha Hualing speak in such a cold way, Luo Binghe felt…weird.
These were a different race. One born of different morals, values, ideals, teachings, and more. He knew all this. He knew their politics and understandings and how they spoke through violence. He is their Junshung. Having it layed out in such a way made his stomach twitch (now he wondered why he bothered asking).
They had mothers (both clearly dead). Shizun had a mother. He wonders what Shizun’s mother is like? To raise someone as wonderful and perfect as his Immortal master. Maybe they look similar? Maybe she has Shizun’s gorgeous green eyes or his long silky hair. The image in his head is snapped away as he realises Sha Hualing is speaking.
“Didn’t Junshung have a mother?” She asks and Luo Binghe feels the rage spark in his chest. His expression enough to make Sha Hualing wince a little. Even Mobei jun raises an eyebrow.
“Begging Junshung’s forgivness, this one didn’t-“
“It doesn’t matter,” he commands, “get back to your duties.”
Standing up and leaving the room.
“Binghe’s hair is truly wonderful.” Softly speaks shizun. Luo Binghe preens at the praise. Letting his shoulders relax as the jade comb goes through his curls. The jade comb only did the roots at the top and sometimes the knots that use to appear. Comb placed away, fingers started to go through the curls. Luo Binghe melts at the touch. Shizun’s long fingers going through his hair. Touching each curl with delicacy and love. Shizun touching his hair make his heart beat a little faster each time. Warm fingers. Already his mind whisks away with many differing thoughts.
“Thanking Shizun.”
“Hmm? For what?”
“For teaching this disciple how to take care of his hair.”
Shizun chuckles, “of course. This master was very pleased to do so.”
Luo Binghe remembers the first time in the Bamboo house. When struggled to do his hair. His shizun scolded his on his rough and poor attempts at his hair. Sitting him down and going through each step. He, however was too starry eyed as his shizun gently touched his hair. Once he thought himself too lacking in every aspect. Once he though his shizun would only never touch his hair. It was perfect. Every time his Shizun brushed his for him, it felt perfect. Everytime his shizun tied his curls up and patted the top of his hair, Luo Binghe felt…perfect.
His mother use to do his hair.
A flicker of solemness goes over his face. Enough to make those heavenly fingers pause. Luo Binghe makes his expression still. He messed up. He fucked up.
“Binghe, is everything okay?” Shizun asks in that quiet tone that usual relaxes him.
“Apolgises, Shizun, I got lost in thought.” Luo Binghe replies quietly, faking a gentle smile.
His shizun frowns and in return, Luo Binghe bats his eyes and shizun sighs. Returning to start untangling more curls (his mother use to do his hair. Use to detangle the curls and hum as her fingers went through his hair. Affording only market priced combs and carefully tying it up. As he got older, her hands became less steady). Luo Binghe returns to gaze at the mirror in front of him. Seeing his own reflection. Seeing the vermillion zuí yín mark on his forehead. His eyes are still the same dark brown and the guanyin pendent still around his neck. He’s grown up. An adult (he never thought he’d become an adult. He never really felt like an adult).
Would his mother recognise him? Would she smile at him or cower in fear? Half demon Luo Binghe? Junshung of the demon relam? Once the owner of the sword Xin Mo? One who tried to unit the world? He never cared for titles. Only when shizun called him ‘beast’, ‘husband, or disciple. He is Shizun’s husband. He is shizun’s disciple. He is part of Qing Jing Peak. He is shizun’s. His mother wouldn’t hate him for finding love, kindness, and wonder in such a man. His mother would recognise him.
Mother would recognise him…Luo Binghe isn’t sure.
Luo Binghe can’t see any half-human half-demon.
He just sees mistakes and mistakes, tied up into a fleshy shell.
After all he did to hurt his shizun, how could his mother ever recognise him.
Luo Binghe lets the thoughts melt away until they disappear at the back of his mind.
Shizun combing his hair is the best distraction.
There are days…where Luo Binghe can’t feel anything.
Almost like something grabbed his soul and wretched it out of him.
Sometimes he stands there and the feeling sinks into him. Lost and hopeless and fingers twitching. It isn’t like cracks in his heart that he use to feel. It isn’t like those days where the anger overtakes everything in his head. Its worse. So much worse. They started off when he was stuck in the abyss. Stuck in semi-darkness, clinging onto rocks, nursing his wounds, and dodging monsters. When he cried for his immortal master. His shizun. His shizun who pushed him down. His shizun who stabbed him. His shizun who lied.
Shizun who was kind and Binghe had to ruin everything by-
The emptiness started to happen after he took out Xin Mo. The sword was real and its weight was strong. It felt real. The situation at the time, became real. The empty feeling set in and Luo Binghe cried. He wasn’t head disciple of Qing Jing peak. He wasn’t shizun’s favourite and he’d never go back to the bamboo house. It felt awful. The cut on his chest, the broken ribs (that healed due to his blood), the painful twitch in his hands, nothing compared to that moment.
Shizun abandoned him.
Shizun tried to kill him.
Shizun lied.
Luo Binghe, once again, losing it all.
Except life didn’t turn out that way.
Now he’s sitting on the bed, ignoring the emptiness.
He always had something to do. He took care of shizun’s body during those five years, he became part of Huan Hua, then he climbed his way out of the abyss, before that he became Qing Jing’s head disciple, and before that he promised his mother to join a cultivation sect. He had purpose. He had direction. He walked the paths he needed to walk. When lost, he was either pointed in the direction or he took the path less walked.
His path now is with his shizun, who follows (who choses to follow).
Any path his shizun walks, he’ll always be by his size.
The empty feeling steadily lives inside him. He grits his teeth and breathes in and out. He needs to do something. He can’t sit here and reflect. He can’t just do nothing. He can’t-
(In the abyss, he turned to rage. The anger built up steadily inside him. On the days he felt that emptiness; that hole in his heart that seemed to grow bigger. When Xin Mo was found, it became a new path. A new way to walk. Rage filled the cracks in his heart. Blood filled his mouth and every monster was a target. A way to eat, a way to destroy, and to cling onto living. That emptiness disappeared. Rage helped him. Rage saved him. His rage killed shi-)
Cooking.
He’ll cook. Lunch will be up soon and maybe he can practise some meals. Shizun will be coming back. He can cook. Something simple on the stomach. Shizun needs a balanced meal.
He can cook and it will all go away.
(That emptiness did not go away).
In bed, staring at the ceiling, Luo Binghe is awake.
Shizun sleeps next to him. Long hair flowing down, head pressed next to his chest, arms curled around Luo Binghe’s arm. He should be sleeping. He should be going to sleep. Except his mother’s birthday is tomorrow. Except he hasn’t visited her grave in years to pay respects. Except Luo Binghe’s chest feels tight. Why after all these years, has the grief come back in full force? Why is it that he can’t sort this out. His mother’s been dead for so long. She must have reincarnated by this point. His mother is gone. No coming back. Its set in stone. Its acceptance. His mother is gone. His motheris gone. His mother is gone. His mother gone-
“Binghe? Whats wrong.”
Head turns to see his shizun wide awake.
“A-apolgises- Shizun I-“ suddenly his tears grow even worse and Luo Binghe sits up so quickly. Face flushed and tears not stopping. He chokes and suddenly, its a struggle to breath. His mother is gone. His mother is gone. His mother is gone. His mother is gone. His mother is gone. His mother abandoned him. Left him and he couldn’t-
“Binghe. Binghe, breathe.” Those words make him choke but he sucks in a breath. A soft feeling reaches him. Enough to stop the muscles contracting. Breathing in and out. Breathing in and out. Slowly and carefully until he’s only weeping. He sniffles and turns. Seeing that shizun’s gorgeous fingers were tracing up and down his arm. A sensation that gently relaxes his muscles.
“Shizun I- I’m sorry.”
“Binghe its alright. Whats wrong?”
“I…I miss my mother.”
An expression of gentle sorrow passes over his shizun’s face. This only makes Luo Binghe cry harder. Shizun gets closer. One hand petting his head and the other wrapping him in a hug.
“S-Shizun.”
“You miss her.”
“She…tomorrow its her birthday- I…I haven’t visited her grave in years.” A quiet admission that stops the sharp pain suddenly. He hasn’t go to pay his respects. To see his mother. To lay incense or food offerings, and bow and truly hold respect to her (certainly he made those sacrfices in the bamboo house. Certainly he remembered her, as she’s carved into his mind. Its not the same). He clings back onto shizun. Quietly and slowly until he stops sniffling.
“We can visit her grave.”
Luo Binghe nods.
“I’m sorry Binghe…is that what has gotten you down these past few days?”
“Yes Shizun.” Luo Binghe admits quietly.
“…it must be so much for you.” Shizun says and holds onto him.
“…I thought I had moved on. I thought it stopped hurting.”
”…Grief just don’t go away.” Quietly admits Shizun.
“I miss her.”
“You will. You will for a very long time,” Shizun speaks quietly, “maybe for the rest of your life.”
“I know…I know.” Luo Binghe replies back.
He misses his mother. He misses his mother in the same way he misses his shizun (it feels the grief from those five years. Its not the same. Luo Binghe went out and fullfuiled his mother’s last promise. It hurt and hurt but he climbed on. Shizun’s death felt awful. Shizun died…many times. Every death felt worse and worse. Though shizun lived, and chose him. Loves him and married him. Luo Binghe chose to die with his shizun. They both lived. His mother wanted him happy, and wanted him to find love).
When he brings his shizun to his mother’s grave, they can bow together.
It won’t go away but maybe thats something.
Maybe thats something.