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Shen Qingqiu was fading.
Luo Binghe knew it, watching him. He was getting worse every day. The Endless Abyss was crushing the life out of his Shizun. It was a hell full of demons and pain and death, and Shen Qingqiu did not belong in a place like this, subject to all its torments. He should be in the fresh air of the human realm, with green life blossoming all around him.
Shen Qingqiu looked up at the closest thing the Abyss had to stars. And Luo Binghe watched him, and promised himself that the first thing they did when they got out would be to go to Qing Jing’s highest peak and look up at the night sky, a true field of stars shining bright from horizon to horizon.
“Shizun?” Luo Binghe said, to catch Shen Qingqiu’s attention.
Shen Qingqiu focused on Luo Binghe, but it was as though he were coming back to himself from far away. “Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu replied, still a little distant. “We’re ready for the other half of the ritual, now.”
Luo Binghe ached to look at him. Shen Qingqiu didn’t even sound happy about it. He didn’t seem happy about anything, these days. Nor upset, or angry, or afraid; he drifted in Luo Binghe’s wake like a ghost. Like a sword spirit. It was an uncomfortable truth that the very thing that saved their lives over and over was yet another way Luo Binghe was hurting Shen Qingqiu.
But just one more time. Just one more. And then they could stop. They could go back to the real world, and Luo Binghe could nurse Shen Qingqiu back to health, and he would recover. And Luo Binghe would get to see him smile again.
“I’m ready, Shizun,” Luo Binghe reassured him.
“I know you are,” Shen Qingqiu replied softly. “Binghe. I need to be in sword form for this.”
Shen Qingqiu took Luo Binghe’s hand, fingers interlacing as he brought their joined hands to his chest. Luo Binghe’s breath caught, as it always did whenever they did this. It was an act he loathed as much as he loved. The warmth of his skin was always so reassuring, compared with the coldness of his face.
And then Shen Qingqiu became a sword in Luo Binghe’s hand, his soul entrusted to Luo Binghe, his self laid bare. It was an intimacy Luo Binghe relished even as he knew how little he deserved it.
Luo Binghe crushed the burgeoning guilt as he gently held Xin Mo. Its bright blade gleamed in the dark of the abyss, giving off a light that belonged here as little as Shen Qingqiu did.
What next, Shizun? Luo Binghe asked his teacher.
Make a small cut on your hand. You need just enough of your own blood to coat my entire blade body. Spread it thin, so you don’t bleed unnecessarily.
Luo Binghe followed the instruction carefully, coating his Shizun in the crimson of Luo Binghe’s life’s blood. Shen Qingqiu’s blade body warmed with Luo Binghe’s blood, and Luo Binghe could almost imagine he felt his Shizun’s heartbeat in the hard metal. Even as a sword, Shen Qingqiu felt like a living thing, bright and beautiful. And Luo Binghe almost wanted to bury the blade inside himself, just to get that much closer to Shen Qingqiu’s heart.
Surround my blade body with your power. Do you feel it? The one hundred and eight lives soaked into the metal?
Yes, Shizun. Luo Binghe could sense the pathetically small life-force of those demons, soaked into the sword to bring it power. None of them could touch the bright heart of Shen Qingqiu, that blazed within Xin Mo like a star.
Push them inward. Force them into my deepest core. Shen Qingqiu gave the command in the same matter-of-fact tone as all the others.
But at this, Luo Binghe hesitated. He felt instinctively that it was wrong to taint his Shizun’s sword-self with those lesser beings. Even if they gave Shen Qingqiu the power to get them out of the abyss, Luo Binghe would have preferred that Shen Qingqiu remain untouched by their corrupted energies.
Shizun, that– Luo Binghe tried to object.
But Shen Qingqiu only scolded Luo Binghe for doubting him. Listen to your teacher, Binghe.
Luo Binghe was being foolish, and delaying their escape. His Shizun knew best. This was their only way out. Luo Binghe shouldn’t let his own prejudices delay Shen Qingqiu from the escape he deserved. Shen Qingqiu had thrown himself into hell purely to help Luo Binghe, and now it was Luo Binghe’s turn to get them both out of it.
... Yes, shizun. The time for hesitation was over.
Luo Binghe thought of his Shizun back in the real world, hair blowing in the breeze, smiling with his eyes bright, cheeks pink in the light of the sun. Happy again. This would all be worth it, to reach that end. They couldn’t stay here forever; Luo Binghe was unsure how much longer Shen Qingqiu could last, down here in the Abyss.
Luo Binghe steeled himself and began to feed Shen Qingqiu’s core with those lives. It grew in power, as expected. And… dimmed.
Shizun?
What was happening? Was this supposed to happen?
Keep going. Shen Qingqiu’s mental voice also sounded fainter. Almost… pained.
Shizun! Luo Binghe didn’t know what to do. Something was wrong.
Don’t you dare stop, Binghe. This isn’t something that you can stop halfway. The backlash alone…
I can survive it. Despite Shen Qingqiu’s objections, Luo Binghe was already slowing down.
This was hurting his Shizun, and Luo Binghe couldn’t bear it. Luo Binghe would outlast whatever backlash there was, and he would work with Shen Qingqiu to find another way. They would figure something out.
Though he wanted to bring Shen Qingqiu out of this hellish place, an instinctive fear was crawling down his spine. He knew deep down that this ritual would harm his teacher–Shen Qingqiu always leapt into danger to protect Luo Binghe, never thinking of himself. But Luo Binghe would bear a thousand wounds to spare Shen Qingqiu a moment’s pain. The backlash of a failed ritual was nothing.
Except… even as Luo Binghe stopped forcing the lives into Shen Qingqiu, Shen Qingqiu’s core continued to darken. Even as he made them stop moving, the demonic life-force continued to bleed into Shen Qingqiu, through tiny threadlike strands.
There’s no choice! We– The threads were growing thicker as the lives began to drain into Shen Qingqiu faster. Our fate was sealed, the minute we fell into this place. This is the only way out, for you.
The words were like ice in Luo Binghe’s veins. For… Luo Binghe. But not for Shen Qingqiu.
Shizun, What haven’t you told me?
The lives of those 108 demons wrenched free of Luo Binghe’s control and began to spin once more, drilling into Shen Qingqiu’s core.
Binghe, It’s alright. Soon you’ll be out of here. You’ll have the power to leave this all behind. The world will be open to you, and then you can do anything you want.
Shen Qingqiu’s voice was growing fainter and fainter. Luo Binghe had never had difficulty breathing the miasma of the Abyss, not like Shen Qingqiu had. But now every ragged breath seared his throat. There was a burning within him like he’d swallowed hot coals.
...Shizun. What’s going to happen to you?
Luo Binghe didn’t wait for the answer. He began to frantically scrub the blood from Shen Qingqiu’s blade body. He needed to stop this. He didn’t care about any backlash, didn’t care about leaving the Abyss. What was the point, without his Shizun?
Blood stained Luo Binghe’s already ruined sleeves. It seeped into the worn fabric, as though Shen Qingqiu’s blade body itself was bleeding. And everywhere that Luo Binghe cleared the blood away, the blade beneath did not shine. Its surface was a dirty gray mottled with the deepest blackness. And the darkness was spreading like ink in water.
No.
Binghe. You’ve made me so proud, did you know that?
Luo Binghe’s face was wet. His eyes burned. His heart was beating out of his chest. Fear swamped him like a wave, and Luo Binghe was drowning in it. His vision blurred, the blackened blade before him smearing in his sight.
What had he done?
Oh, Binghe
Luo Binghe watched his own tears splash onto Shen Qingqiu’s blade. But all the tears and regret in the world couldn’t wash it clean. He could feel the lives of the demons merging with Shen Qingqiu now. Destroying his heart. The power of the sword was building even as the light of Shen Qingqiu waned.
Shizun. I can’t stop it. I–
This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Not to his Shizun.
Luo Binghe clutched the blade, slicing open his fingers. More of his tainted blood ran over the surface. No. Luo Binghe pulled back, rubbing Shen Qingqiu’s blade body clean again. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
He never should have used his Shizun like this in the first place. How could Luo Binghe have thought his tainted blood could lead to anything but the destruction of the one he loved? He never should have turned him into a sword, not once, no matter the cost. Never should have hesitated, at the edge of the Abyss, when Shen Qingqiu told him to go into it.
Luo Binghe should have jumped into the Abyss alone, rather than take Shen Qingqiu down with him. Better to have lived and died down here, than to sentence his Shizun to that fate at his own hands!
It’s alright. It’ll all be over soon.
It couldn’t be true. These couldn’t be their last moments together. But the gray of the blade was almost all chased away by the black. The unbearable truth lay there before him.
Why? Why didn’t you tell me? But Luo Binghe knew why.
Luo Binghe would never have done this, if he had known what would happen. And Shen Qingqiu had… chosen for him. Kept Luo Binghe in the dark, in order to set Luo Binghe free of the Abyss. Even though Shen Qingqiu knew he would never escape. The whole time they had been down here together, Shen Qingqiu had known he would never see the sky again. Everything he had done, all the torments he had suffered, had been for Luo Binghe. So that Luo Binghe could get out, and live.
Luo Binghe didn’t want that! He wanted his Shizun! He wanted…
Promise me you’ll live well. Shen Qingqiu said it so faintly, Luo Binghe could barely make out the words.
You can’t go! Don’t go where I can’t follow! Luo Binghe cradled Shen Qingqiu’s blade body in his arms. There was no gray left. The whole surface of it was black as pitch. None of the light of Shen Qingqiu was left. Shizun! You promised to stay by my side!
Xin Mo’s blade gleamed mockingly back at him.
Silent.