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Chapter Text

“Do I have to, Shizun?” Ning Yingying whined, sweat dripping from her brow as she was once more directed by her Shizun to keep practicing.

By this point, she had been at it all morning.

First, her Shizun had woken her up bright and early, urging her to finish five laps around the entire peak.

Then, he’d told her to grab a practice sword and they went over the Qing Jing form, fine-tuning her sword stance until it finally reached his impossible standards for what he deemed sufficient.

Now, finally, physical education was over, but it seemed the weight of learning had yet to be put away.

So there she was, hunched over a table as her Shizun taught her talismans meant to eviscerate future foes. 

At least twice a week he’d pull her aside and give her individualized teachings. Not to the same extent as Luo Shidi who got training almost every day, or even Ming Fan who was being taught administration work as well as cultivation.

“This master will not always be here Ning Yingying. While I might be able to catch you when you fall now, can you say the same for when you fall years later?” Shizun said seriously from where he was sitting before her, grading her fellow disciples' poetry. Ning Yingying blew away a lock of hair that landed in front of her face. The stubborn strand of hair refused to budge from her eyes and instead swung back. Ning Yingying reached out a hand and tried to place it behind her ear but her ink-covered fingers accidentally made contact with her forehead.

“Don’t say such ominous words Shizun, their unlucky,” Ning Yingying said sternly, however, any severity was undercut by her messy appearance. Shizun smiled at her, reaching out his hand and lightly rubbing away the ink that fell on her face. Ning Yingying felt the warm, comforting Qi of her master lightly brush the stain away with every stroke of his thumb.

“Unlucky they might be, but false they are not. You need to be smart, Yingying, because the world will not allow you to be stupid,” her Shizun said softly, playfully pinching her cheek.

Ning Yingying grinned up at her master, feeling joy at having her master’s care.

Even if it was sometimes annoying.

Present

Ning Yingying brought up a trembling hand to whip the blood from her chin. Her white sleeve dyed red.

“I’ve heard that you are one of three main direct disciples of the late Xiu Ya Sword. You’re more disappointing than I was expecting,” the demon before her said mockingly. Still, despite his arrogance, Ning Yingying noticed his trembling frame as he tried to discreetly distance himself from where she stood. Ning Yingying couldn’t help but smile, her bloodied teeth on display as she grinned.

“I’d believe your taunts more readily if I hadn’t just spent the last hour kicking your ass,” Ning Yingying said in the same bubbly, friendly voice she had often used when younger.

The demon was visibly unnerved by this strange dichotomy between her demeanor and her actions.

Ning Yingying pulled out an explosion talisman, placing it between her wide, grinning teeth.

Then, she raised her sword and charged.

“Are you sure you think that’s wise?” Shizun’s voice was amused, a twinkle in his eyes as he observed.

Ning Yingying pouted.

“Stop teasing me Shizun, we both know that this is the only path forward,” Ning Yingying huffed, pointing at the board. It was honestly impressive how effortlessly her Shizun had her caught in his trap. Not surprising, but impressive nonetheless.

“Weiqi is supposed to encourage patience, not reckless enthusiasm,” Shizun said, shaking his head. Ning Yingying felt her cheeks grow red at his indirect rebuke.

“It's just- it's just so pointless. I’m never going to be Peak Lord anyway so what’s the use in learning strategy?”

“Because one day you’ll be great, one day you’ll be important, one day when you speak, everyone will listen,” her Shizun said, his every word laced with certainty. Ning Yingying almost wanted to ask him if he was gaining a fever.

She knew what everyone thought about her.

Stupid, helpless, oblivious Ning Yingying.

Spoiled by her master and peak today, soon to be spoiled by her husband tomorrow.

No one on Qing Jing said anything like that of course, Shizun would have them running laps at the offense.

But Shizun was not master to all twelve peaks.

More than a few Xian Shu fairies had whispered words that carried, landing right in her ears.

Stupid, helpless, oblivious Ning Yingying.

But not to her master, not to her Shizun.

Ning Yingying felt her eyes sting at that realization.

Her poor Shizun, already so incredibly awkward with emotions, grew even more so at the sight of her tears.

His hands fluttered around her, nervously patting her back.

Ning Yingying gave a wet laugh at his actions.

Then, because she could, she threw her arms around him.

He immediately grew stiff at the contact.

He hesitantly patted her back a few more times before trying to stealthily get away from her hug.

Ning Yingying didn’t bother torturing him any further, though she thought it was hilarious how clumsy her Shizun was with affection.

After there was an acceptable distance between them, Shizun reached out his hand and patted her on the head.

“I am- I am deeply proud of how far you’ve come Ning Yingying,” Shizun said, a slight stutter at the beginning of his sentence. 

Ning Yingying felt her heart warm at his words.

“Teach me how to proceed Shizun,” Ning Yingying said, her voice nasally. 

Shizun smiled.

Present

The demon was a demon lord of some sort, one who had been rebelling against Luo Binghe’s regime.

At one point he decided that in order to gain an edge against Demon Emperor Luo, he needed to take captive one of his loved ones.

Seeing as the only confirmed loved one the Demon Emperor had was Shen Qingqiu, the demon rebel had then decided to instead target Shen Qingqiu’s loved ones.

Ning Yingying wasn’t sure she’d ever understand demons.

Ning Yingying dodged a slash aimed at her stomach, instead using the opportunity to grow closer to her opponent, flipping over the strike with a Qi-powered jump.

Then, once she was directly above her target, she activated the talisman with her tongue, opening her mouth and watching with glee as the talisman fluttered innocently down.

The timer for the talesman ended and a fiery explosion immediately set the world ablaze, blowing the demon up and Ning Yingying away.

Ning Yingying felt a joyful giggle bubble up from her throat as she was sent flying back with nothing but the power of the blast.

Before she could hit the ground, she twisted her sword beneath her feet and activated sword flight.

Ning Yingying laughed as she flew off into the night, her hair twisting and twirling around her as her ribbons danced in the wind.

Her skin was burned, her clothes charred, and her face no doubt covered in ash, but nothing made her feel more alive than a well-played move.

She supposed her Shizun was to thank for that.

Ning Yingying watched expressionlessly as her Shizun once more sat before the sword mound.

He’d already been there for hours today.

She felt distant from her body as she saw Ming Fan beg their teacher to eat something.

She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to say.

What could she say to their master who lost his favored disciple?

Should she try to connect with him?

Try to say that she had lost her best friend too?

Or would he think that she was being annoying?

Ning Yingying was pulled right back into her body at that thought.

Her breathing grew tight, her vision hazy, her hands shaky.

She didn’t want her master to think she was minimizing the pain he must be feeling, didn't want to make it seem like she was being selfish.

“Yingying,” her master said, his voice breaking her out of her mind.

Ning Yingying looked up with wet eyes.

Shizun beckoned her forward.

“Come sit with me,” Shizun said kindly.

Ming Fan was gone, no doubt to make dinner anew in an attempt to convince their master to eat.

He was diligent like that.

The only light illuminating the bamboo grove they placed Luo Shidi’s sword mound was their two lanterns.

Ning Yingying gingerly sat down, carefully placing her lantern next to her.

“I’m sorry for not checking in on you Ning Yingying. Tell me, how are you faring with Binghe’s death?” her master asked.

Ning Yingying wanted to choke out a satisfactory answer, but when she met her Shizun’s gentle eyes, she burst into tears.

Present

Ning Yingying spent hours flying.

She should have turned her sword to the direction of the sect, gone back to report to Ming Fan, help take a load off his back.

No doubt he was fretting with worry over her absence.

But her heart couldn’t even consider the thought at the moment.

She'd return tomorrow, when she was feeling less like an embodiment of all her Shizun had made her.

She was many years grown now, no longer the spoiled child her Shizun used to enable.

Now, just as her master had said all those lessons ago, when she spoke, people listened.

Eventually, she found a clearing and made her camp there.

She settled in for the night, placing barrier talismans all around her before leaning against a tree and placing her sword across her lap for easy access.

Once she was sure she was as safe as she could be, she reached into her qiankun pouch and pulled out a burn cream. The pouch was fraying and old, yet still clean, clearly well-loved and well-used.

It was also filled to the brim with countless priceless healing items.

Courtesy of Shizun.

He had given one to all three of his direct disciples, urging them to be careful of the dangers in this world.

She slathered the cream over all her burns and wrapped the worst of them so that they wouldn’t become infected.

Then she closed her eyes and welcomed sleep.

Unintentionally, because she had spent years avoiding it, Ning Yingying came across the grove her Shizun had spent his last few years in.

She felt the urge to desecrate it.

She wanted to burn the bamboo and grass, to uproot the dirt that held nothing but her Shizun’s sorrow, to rage to the wind that her teacher had loved an unfilial mutt, an ungrateful beast. That his long hours spent mourning a boy were fed to the dogs as that boy turned to monster and didn’t give him the same grace.

Shizun had nothing to bury and still, he found the bones of his regard to place into the ground. Luo Binghe has the body of their Shizun and he violates both it and their Shizun’s will.

Ning Yingying wants to desecrate the grave of Luo Binghe like he desecrates their Shizun.

She wants to shake Luo Binghe and tell him that he was her teacher too, that he was her father too, but instead, she sits in the same grove their teacher had wasted hours in, and she mourns for three people instead of one.

Present

Ning Yingying awakes with a start.

Instincts honed from long years without her greatest protector screamed that there was something wrong.

She gets up, her stance steady as she walks slowly to where she feels the strange Qi.

She walks for only maybe a few steps before she senses the strange Qi rush over towards her.

She ducks, narrowly missing having her head lobbed off.

The strange Qi swiftly turns around and starts to follow her.

Ning Yingying gets on her sword and hightails it as fast as she can, the pit in her stomach sinking as she realizes the strange Qi is just as quick if not quicker.

The strange Qi shoots towards her and Ning Yingying has only a moment to think her last words.

She spends that moment praying for Ming Fan to stay strong, and for a warm hug from her Shizun when she inevitably meets him once more while in line for Meng Po’s soup.

Chapter Text

Ning Yingying wakes up.

Tremors wreck her frame as she clenches her hands around her sword, grateful for something familiar to ground her.

She takes slow, deep breaths.

‘Without clear air in your lungs, you can not think,’  Shizun’s words echo in her mind.

She needs to think.

Ning Yingying takes her time in gathering herself, in piecing herself together after falling apart from what she had expected to be certain death.

Eventually, her tremors stop, and her breathing steadies.

She opens her eyes and is met with the sight that steals the air from her lungs once more.

While Ning Yingying can not say that she’s overly familiar with the demon realm, she can say with certainty that she’s been there enough times to tell the difference between the two realms.

The sky in the demon realm is often red with swirls of black taking the place of the clouds.

Ning Yingying stares up at the sky and is awestruck and horrified.

It looks like the world has been ripped in two and the sown back together with jagged, ugly stitches.

Blue sky clashes against blood red, looking raw and bruised as they battle for space they should not share.

Black swirls make the sky bleed and white clouds do nothing to hide the sight of a broken world.

“What- what could possibly have done this?” Ning Yingying whispers to herself, her human soul appalled by such a perversion of her world. No cultivator would be able to look at such a sight and stay unaffected.

Especially a cultivator who knew what it meant.

Somehow, the human and demon realms have merged.

Ning Yingying looked up at the sky for what felt like hours, unable to turn her eyes away from the aching, infected wound this world had become.

Eventually, with her sword gripped tightly in her hand, Ning Yingying starts walking.

She needs to find out what happened.

Ning Yingying reaches a town.

The houses are broken, the fields barren, and the people hungry.

Ning Yingying offers them food in exchange for answers and they gladly agree.

“The sky? It was that demon emperor. Story goes that he was unsatisfied with only conquering the demon realm so he set his eyes on human lands. Once he took over every inch, he made it so that both realms became one,” a starving farmer told her, sunken eyes confused and feverish even as he answered.

“I heard he’s got a harem of six hundred women, all more beautiful than the last,” a stick thin boy whispers, grabbing at her sleeves.

“Why haven’t the sects put a stop to him? Surely Cang Qiong wouldn’t have stood for this?” Ning Yingying asks, fists shaking in worry, her mind flashing to Ming Fan and their junior disciples that Shizun had tasked them with protecting.

“Young girl, have you been living under a rock these last few years? Cang Qiong has been decimated, its disciples killed, its peak lords slaughtered, its lands burned to ash,” an older woman said with a shake of her head.

Ning Yingying felt her heart drop.

No.

No- no that was impossible.

Cang Qiong couldn’t fall.

It was- it was Cang Qiong.

It was one of the four great sects.

It was the strongest of the four sects.

This had to be a dream.

“Qing Jing, what of Qing Jing?” Ning Yingying asked, her voice growing desperate.

The townspeople glanced at each other hesitantly.

Finally, the first farmer that had spoken to her answered.

“From what I had heard, Qing Jing was hit with the worst of it. Most other peaks had some surviving disciples scattered through the lands. Qing Jing only has one,” the farmer says.

“Who?” Ning Yingying asks, frantic.

She prays to hear Ming Fan’s name at that moment more than anything, prays to every god she does and doesn’t believe in, hating herself for her selfishness but unrepentant in her wish for her dear senior brother’s survival.

Only they know Shizun, only they remember him in all his glory.

She can not carry his memory alone.

She’s not strong enough for such a weight.

Then, the farmer opens his mouth and brings Ning Yingying’s world crashing down.

“Emperor Luo’s first wife, Ning Yingying.”

Ning Yingying leaves the village in a daze, thoughts scattered in a million directions.

‘When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’  Shizun’s voice whispers in her head.

Ning Yingying wants to rage at the world, at the sky that bleeds and the barren lands that leave its people starving.

She wants to rage and cry and shout but she is no longer twelve, she is no longer a child to be coddled.

She is in a place she does not recognize, with people who hold familiar-sounding names but act in unfamiliar ways.

She settles against a tree, leaning against its trunk.

She looks up and feels the impossibility of this entire situation sink in.

Then she starts to laugh.

She laughs so hard she curls over her lap and makes her tight ribbons come loose.

She laughs so loud she scares birds and shakes branches.

She laughs so loud that she swears she must have made everyone in this cursed world hear her deranged glee.

Eventually the giggles slow and Ning Yingying once more relaxes against the tree.

She feels tears well up and wants to curse herself for being a fool.

She’s alone.

She’s completely alone.

No Shizun, no Ming Fan, no Luo Binghe.

No one but her and this strange place she’s found herself in.

Ning Yingying gets up with a grunt, pushing herself up using her sword as a cane and the tree for support.

First things first, she needs a plan.

She’ll need to find a way to get back home as well as verify the information she’s been given.

While she doesn’t believe the townspeople have intentionally lied to her, there’s only so much mortals can truly know about the affairs of immortals.

There’s something they don’t know and it's impending her view of the big picture.

She counts to ten and then turns back to the town.

The villagers seem surprised to see her return but Ning Yingying only smiles at their confusion.

She buys a set of male clothing, and a room to stay for the night.

She removes her Qing Jing uniform, already knowing it’ll be more of a hindrance than anything.

Then she unwraps her bandages, feeling satisfied at the way the burns have all but vanished.

She takes the now dirty bandages and cleans them, thanking her Shizun’s spirit for his no expense spared top-notch medical equipment.

The bandages not only help with accelerating the rate of healing but they can also be cleaned and used again.

Ning Yingying leaves them to dry overnight and, after placing Talismans all over the room, she collapses in the rickety bed.

When Ning Yingying’s Shizun was still alive, he had pressed the importance of always being prepared.

One of the lessons that he had given her but not the boys was how to disguise herself as a man.

‘Being a beautiful woman will draw the attention of many people with less than pure intentions. If you are ever in a situation where you are alone and will be alone for the considerable future, disguise yourself as a man and reduce the risk to yourself by half’

Ning Yingying supposed the difference between a talented cultivator and a master was wisdom.

For never had Shizun’s wisdom steered her wrong.

Ning Yingying wrapped the bandages around her breasts, already sending a silent apology to Mu Shishu who would no doubt be infuriated when she returned and he saw the state of her.

Shizun told her many times that binding herself was a last resort and should only be done for short periods of time.

After her breasts were pressed down, she put on the clothes she had bought herself from the villagers.

It was a raggedy brown thing that spoke loudly of poverty.

First chance she had she’d need to exchange it for something nicer. Most would not take her seriously if she was dressed like a poor farmer.

‘The greatest weapon anyone can hold is their clothing. Dress like a nobleman and people will see you as someone with a noble temperament. Dress like a beggar and people will turn a blind eye to you.’

For now, she was a simple farmer, but soon she’d be more, enough to gain answers from the elites of this world who would hold the answers to the questions spinning in her mind.

Ning Yingying put her hair up in a simple bun and then finally turned her attention to her face.

She considered her options.

Apparently in this world, she was someone of importance, someone whose name was known far and wide.

She poked at her cheek and then brought out her face paints.

Carefully, using her brush, she sharpened her features. She made her eyebrows fuller, her nose more prominent, and her jaw more defined.

Soon the person looking back at her was someone that no one would be surprised to find male.

“Shen Fan,” Ning Yingying said softly.

Ning Yingying was gone by the time anyone came up to check on her.

Chapter Text

Ning Yingying spends about a week traversing the wilderness, seeing wonders that classify more as abominations. Emperor Luo (not Luo Binghe, not her Shidi) has all but destroyed this world.

Ning Yingying can already foretell the slow, gradual decline that will come from the unbalanced ecosystems forced to combine. The world will heal of course, as all worlds eventually do, but by the time it does, most that have lived will have died and all that are born will be altered.

He’s destroyed an era.

Cultivation will become weaker as the plants and animals that breathe qi die out. It will always exist, but never in the form it used to.

Shizun would have been horrified to see it.

Eventually, Ning Yingying encounters a city. She observes how both demons and humans alike pass inspection, how they give coins to the gatekeepers, and can’t help the flash of contempt that fills her. 

What was the point of merging the realms? Was it just to show that both humans and demons alike were cut from the same cloth?

It's not long before Ning Yingying is inside the city.

She books a room at an inn before going down to the market.

She buys a couple bundles of cloth for herself and spends the next two days hunkered down in her room as she makes herself clothes fancy enough to fit in with the rest of high society.

She’ll have to make herself a couple more outfits before she can truly start interacting with the upper echelons, but for now, this will due.

With her outfit set, her coin purse ready, and her sword hidden safely in a qiankun bag, she sets out for the nearest brothel.

Before Shizun had changed, he had mentioned that the tongues of men were made loose by the presence of pretty women in pretty clothing.

Seeing as there’s no place you’ll find more pretty women in pretty clothing than in a brothel, Ning Yingying would give his advice a shot.

Not that it had meant to be advice.

Oftentimes, it felt like before he changed, her Shizun had talked more at her than to her.

She had mixed feelings for the person he used to be. He had cared for her, arguably he had cared for her more than he had cared for anyone else. But the care he had for her was stifling, it was dehumanizing at times. 

The Shizun after him was easier to think about.

He had loved her.

In his own way, he had loved her as he would a daughter or a sister.

Not a pet. Not something to be kept at home and simply looked at.

Shizun had set out to protect her by making sure that she could always protect herself.

Spoiled by her master and peak today, soon to be spoiled by her husband tomorrow.

She thinks of the man her Shizun used to be and knows, down to her very bones she knows, that if he had continued to raise her, those words often spat at her by the Xian Shu Fairies would have been a prophecy more than they’d have been an ignorable insult.

He had cared for her, but he hadn’t raised her.

Ning Yingying enters a brothel for the first time in her life.

Getting a room with a prostitute was one of the most difficult things she’d ever done.

At first, she hadn’t known how to even go about it so she sat down at a table and drank the shitty complementary wine.

While seated she’s greeted by the sight of many men drunkenly singing a song about the size of Emperor Luo’s dick.

It's horrific.

Not only are the vocals just truly dog shit but the lyrics are enough to make her want to gouge out her ear drums.

That’s her baby Shidi!

Well, not exactly, but still!

“3,000 wives have tasted him, 

3,000 more to come

They say his dick is firm and thick

No small and simple thumb

It reaches to the very sky

And makes the ladies numb

From stern to cross-eye they go

A pleasure made too fun”

She waits about an hour before the song gets to her enough that she knows she’ll either have to suck it up and ask for help or simply commit murder. 

Thankfully a very nice young woman directs her to the front desk and it's there that Ning Yingying finally manages to book a prostitute.

When they reach the room the woman tries to reach over but Ning Yingying quickly starts explaining.

“Apologies for the inconvenience, I have no desire for pleasures of the flesh at the moment. Instead, I seek the most meaningful pleasure of all, information,” Ning Yingying says. The woman before her tilts her head before nodding. She walks over to the bed and leans back on her arms.

“And what does the Sir wish to know?” the woman asks.

“I’ve been cultivating in seclusion until now, so I’m very behind on current events. Please, explain to me what happened to Cang Qiong Sect,” Ning Yingying looks at the woman before her. The woman takes a moment to gather her thoughts before explaining.

She speaks of the downfall starting with Qing Jing’s lord. A trial that spoke of his guilt in killing one of his martial siblings, slaughtering an entire household of people, abusing his disciples, and lustful appetite.

At many points, Ning Yingying wanted to stop the woman and simply laugh long and hard about the ridiculousness of the situation.

So that’s where things went wrong? The trial?

Instead of dying, this Shizun had instead been captured, contained, and tortured for all of eternity by the Emperor.

The Emperor then cut off his legs and sent them to Yue Qingyuan.

Ning Yingying doesn’t even need to hear the rest to know how the sect leader had no doubt reacted.

And react he did, falling straight into a trap and dying.

In this world, Liu Shibo had died in the Lingxi caves, Shizun was captured, and Yue Shibo was killed in an ambush. Almost inevitably, the rest of the peak lords fell under the might of the demonic Emperor.

She asks a few more questions.

About the effects of the worlds merging.

The increase in demonic beasts, the higher death rates for mortals, the rising tensions in some towns that escalated to slaughter, and even the love that was found between the two races no longer separated.

Clearly, it's not all bad, but dear god is it still bad.

Maybe if the merging had been slower, something that happened over many centuries instead of in a single second, then the current world wouldn’t look so much like it was bleeding to death. But unfortunately, what they were stuck with instead was a world that Ning Yingying had no doubt would destroy itself.

Ning Yingying pays the woman for her information and leaves a couple of hours later to make it seem like she had done something.

She then spends the rest of the night at the inn, planning her next course of action.

Something else she asked was how one might seek an audience with the Emperor, who had access to the palace, and who was currently the highest ranked official in the city.

The woman had been less willing to answer these questions but the money was far too tempting and so with a little more needling, she answered.

Tomorrow, she’d make friends with Li Yuxuan, the son of a highly-ranked court official.