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Shen Yuan was never really fond of flowers.
He just didn’t have an interest in it. Sure he'd pass by some, admire them here and there, or buy them for his mom and sister in his original world, but that was about it. He didn’t dive into its other meanings and whatnot. Isn’t it enough that the flowers are pretty and smell good, and I even thought about giving them to someone?
It’s the same for him even now as Shen Qingqiu, although there is no mother or sister to give them to, he gives them to the love of his life—only when he’s not feeling particularly shy, however. There are so many beautiful flowers in Proud Immortal Demon Way that could take one’s breath away upon seeing it; it would be a waste if they were ignored. No matter how stunning it is, nevertheless, it doesn’t beat seeing the smile on Binghe’s face when he actually receives those flowers from him.
Of course, Binghe also gives flowers to Shen Qingqiu and it never fails to make the latter flustered. If anyone else catches Shen Qingqiu feeling tender towards flowers given to him by Binghe, it was none one’s business.
Shen Qingqiu was still bleary from sleep as the system was giving instructions. Just now, he was woken up with an ear-blasting alarm just to be issued a new mission—this time he has to help people experiencing the Hanahaki Disease.
"Seriously, this Hanahaki Disease is legit? I honestly thought it was just something in books, but it becoming a reality? Unbelievable! And to think I read about them too. Ugh!" Shen Qingqiu quickly processed the matter at hand before giving the screen an exasperated look, sighing and finally accepting the mission with a wave of his hand.
Having unrequited love is hard as it is, but having a disease which may result in death-–is unimaginable. It's ridiculous. Shen Qingqiu is already dreading how this event would go.
Well, tomorrow’s problems are for tomorrow’s me . The event wouldn’t start until tomorrow so he went back to lie down on his bed for the moment after dealing with the system to continue basking in the morning light with his Binghe beside him, although asleep. He still has time to prepare himself for what he needs to do. Shen Qingqiu thought about how unfortunate the people he would encounter would be and how fortunate he is that he and Binghe didn’t go through that. Binghe suddenly shifts in his sleep so Shen Qingqiu hugs him from behind, temporarily forgetting what the annoying system had announced.
---
“You love someone and it isn’t returned. You cough flowers bla bla bla and possibly die because of it. Unless of course, it is actually requited or you have the roots plucked. Having the roots plucked, however, causes you to forget that person you loved,” he summarizes to himself, even making exaggerated gestures to emphasize this idea. Binghe, who accompanied him to the library and is across the room from him, gave Shen Qingqiu a slightly weird look.
Apparently, Shen Qingqiu’s peak had books about the Hanahaki Disease. It was never there before so it was probably the system’s doing to give clues. Thanks for the clues, but it probably cost some B points. Shen Qingqiu decided to browse through them before proceeding with his mission. What he read from the books wasn't really any different from what he had already known. Huh, it’s really just the same from what I actually had in mind. Shen Qingqiu’s eyebrows furrowed as he flipped some more pages.
He had spent a lot of time in his original world reading stories that are set in this alternate universe and even hate-commented on some if they weren’t up to his standards–typing furiously on his computer in his dim and messy room as he harshly comments about how much the story sucks.
In case anything goes wrong, he had already asked Mu Qingfang, who happens to specialize in medical practices, for help. Why can’t it be him who’s assigned for the mission, I’m not a doctor to really help people with this disease! Stupid System. Shen Qingqiu slammed the last book he found closed and went over to Binghe.
“I have to go now, take care,” Shen Qingqiu said as he opened his fan and slightly covered his reddening face as Binghe gave a smack to his cheek, “Mn.”
Instead of getting a kiss goodbye, accompanied by the usual clinginess and whining, asking to come with his shizun, Binghe just pecked his cheek. Maybe Binghe has had a lot in mind recently, especially with things going on in the demon realm. Shen Qingqiu didn’t give it much thought before leaving.
Shang Qinghua only wished him all the best when he found out about it. Very helpful, really.
“Imagine all the stories I could write from this,” Shang Qinghua said excitedly and Shen Qingqiu could see the stars in his eyes. It’s a miracle he hasn’t written one yet. “Too bad I never got the chance to write one. Tell me all about it when you come back, okay?" Shang Qinghua was already coming up with a bunch of ideas. Shen Qingqiu can only scoff imagining how that story would turn out if he ever wrote one. It will probably turn out worse than the sob stories he’s going to be hearing.
---
Helping people with the Hanahaki Disease is getting redundant, ugh. Shen Qingqiu rubbed his face with both of his hands in annoyance.
He first explained to each victim what they were experiencing—what the Hanahaki Disease is, its symptoms and its cure—then painstakingly gave advice on what can be done. It was inevitable to hear tales of woe and denial. After all, it is a difficult thing to accept that the person of your affections doesn't love you back, and it’s even harder to accept that you caught a disease because of it.
Some agreed, albeit reluctantly, to have the roots of the flowers plucked. Some didn’t. As much as the stories were touching—even if he repeatedly heard, "I'd rather die with these feelings than lose it and forget the person I loved.” —he would still suggest having them removed. “Is it really worth it dying for someone who won’t even look your way? Would some people really risk their lives, for the sake of love” he’d ask himself, looking at the victims with sympathy. It really isn’t different from what I’ve read before, but seeing it in person...who knew it could be so moving .
Binghe and I are definitely not this...sentimental. I don’t think I’d be able to handle saying whatever those people just said.
Shen Qingqiu also did not express any interest in knowing the name, understanding the meanings of each flower and their importance when it came to curing the patients. It’s not like it’s essential to cure the patients anyway. Maybe one day he’d look it up, but that day is not today. Shen Qingqiu just wanted to rest right now and go back home to Binghe.
With every complaint he has, the system would beep loudly in his head to remind him of his mission. There were options for him to pick during the journey to make it easier, however he would sneer at it thinking the event is easy enough; he can go through it with what experience he has.
He pettily cursed at the system. And at every flower he sees.
–--
After dealing with a lot of mushy people and flowers the whole day, all Shen Qingqiu wanted to do was rest. He walked down the path leading to his bamboo house, extremely tired. Seeing that there was no puppy running to him and smothering him with kisses as he opened the door, he thought that maybe Binghe was still dealing with his business. When he comes, perhaps they could cuddle—not that Shen Qingqiu would directly ask for it.
Shen Qingqiu decided to wait a bit longer. He got a change of clothes since the robes he’s wearing smell sickeningly sweet of flowers. As seconds turned into minutes, he realized that Binghe was not around. Well, Shen Qingqiu told himself with a disappointed smile. Guess he’s not around. It kind of saddened him that Binghe didn’t tell him beforehand that he’d be home late or at least left a note since he usually does so. Shen Qingqiu hits himself with his fan repeatedly, “What are you being clingy for? That's Binghe’s job! Aiya, just eat what he’s prepared.”
Shen Qingqiu decided not to overthink it and just wait until Binghe comes home. He got a seat and ate the noodles prepared for him. As he ate, he would give a slight cough as it felt like something was stuck in his throat. He paid it no mind and just drank water.
When he finished, Binghe still wasn’t back yet so Shen Qingqiu decided to lie down on his bed and try to sleep. It was kind of difficult to fall asleep right away as he would feel a weird tightening in his chest and itch in his throat. It was also quite cool that night and aside from being annoyed that he still smelled like flowers after having a bath already, he also thought about how perfectly warm it would be if Binghe was with him right now; he’d be repeatedly calling him shizun just to be sure he was still beside him. He’d also be whispering sweet nothings in his ears. Shen Qingqiu thought again how fortunate he and Binghe were to not have gone through this.
–--
Days had passed and their routine had gradually changed. Shen Qingqiu still helped more people with the Hanahaki Disease but it seems he, too, has caught it. With every shift in the way Binghe would look at him and act around him, he’d feel his chest tighten as if something was blocking his airways.
Binghe doesn’t have that spark in his eyes when he sees Shen Qingqiu; there isn’t vigor in him when they do their activities; and most importantly, there isn’t love anymore in every kiss and hug they would share.
That warmth Shen Qingqiu had been wanting to feel, waiting for Binghe to come home to him, was never felt again. What changed? Is it something I did? To his horror he started coughing flowers–they were petals at first but after some time it became flowers–with soft white petals and yellowish-green centers. When it was put directly in front of sunlight, it seemed to glow.
Shen Qingqiu did not know what it was called, but all he knows is his feelings for Binghe are unrequited now.
When the system told him he had to assist those with the Hanahaki Disease, those who were coughing up flowers because of unreturned feelings, was he included? Is there no way to reverse this? He’s seen people getting the sickness even if they’re already in a relationship, but him getting it? It hurts.
He was shaken to the core after finding out. It means that Binghe...doesn’t love me anymore. He tried to think hard if there was anything wrong he did for Binghe to just...fall out of love with him. Shen Qingqiu covered his mouth with a hand at this revelation as cold sweat started to form on his forehead.
Luo Binghe was his most precious person, and to be with him after much denial within himself, thinking he wasn’t in love with him and even running away from him, made him really happy. At first, he didn’t understand what his feelings towards Binghe were, he thought he was just trying to get on his good side to avoid dying. It turns out he was already falling for him—the next thing he knew, they were coming into terms, talking about what they felt, and they ended up together. For Shen Qingqiu to call Binghe his, wake up to him every morning, share precious moments with each other made Shen Qingqiu realize this is all very much real.
However real what they had was, this is his reality now. As much as he wants to keep what they still have, never wake up to face the truth, the current circumstances tell him otherwise.
“Shizun!” Binghe would call him eagerly, but Shen Qingqiu could feel that it lacked its original sincerity; it didn’t ring like before—it suddenly felt wrong to hear him be called that.
Binghe still cooks for him but that too wasn’t like before. The dishes tasted good as usual but it felt like there was something lacking. “It’s delicious,” Shen Qingqiu would say with a soft smile but inside, knowing what Binghe really felt, he just wanted to throw it up along with the flower petals he had been keeping in.
They’d do what they usually did together—talk, laugh, maybe even cry—but everything is one-sided now. Shen Qingqiu was the only one who was feeling. Every night, he couldn’t bring himself to stare at Binghe like he always did before he fell asleep; he’d pull away and try not to wake Binghe up with his coughing and wheezing, flowers choking him.
I thought you hated yourself because you couldn’t make anyone stay; no one would choose you. But I’m here now aren’t I? Everyday it would be you and only you who I’d choose. Why must it be like this? You were the first one who loved between us, and just like that it’s gone? It hurts, so so much.
Maybe, there’s someone else now.
Every flower Shen Qingqiu coughs out, he stares at it, face void of emotion. They were bloody, nonetheless still fluttering beautifully on his hand. When he snapped out of his daze, he’d hide them hastily so no one would find them. It’s a miracle nobody did yet; his disciples definitely noticed he’s been covering his face with his fan more often and coughing, but they wouldn’t dare to ask.
Shen Qingqiu finds out what kind of flowers they are and their meaning. He holds them deeply in his heart; sometimes he would be fond of them, playing with the petals between his fingers before keeping them away, but sometimes he’s not–they were beautiful, but it just symbolizes his unrequited love for Binghe. He doesn’t love you anymore, so you cough up flowers. It was a manifestation of what or who he is losing. No matter how lovely the flowers were, that was all it meant.
When Binghe was feeling particularly down, Shen Qingqiu would be there to comfort him and remind him that someone was there beside him. He couldn’t say the same for himself, however.
Everyone on Cang Qiong Mountain noticed a change between the master and disciple but no one was bold enough to ask about it.
Recently, Shen Qingqiu found himself thinking about what he should do now. It has been at least a week since he had gotten sick. He subconsciously hoped that Binghe would look at him the same way as he did before, full of life and love in his eyes, just to stop whatever he was feeling right now. He remembers the victims of the disease he’d helped earlier and how moving their words wore.
Shen Qingqiu wistfully hoped Binghe would love him again just before his time was up.
It’s ironic how he suggested to them to have the roots plucked but he himself did not want to take his own advice. In a snap, everything that he cherished could go down the drain. Those memories and feelings he held dear to him, in an instant could just...disappear. If that happened, who is to say that what happened between Shen Qingqiu and Binghe existed?
Maybe he didn’t express himself to Binghe enough? Insecurity and doubts filled Shen Qingqiu’s head--a lot of what if’s were on his mind. Maybe he was too much of a tsundere , he cringes as he calls himself one. Can I still make it up to Binghe? Even if this disease doesn’t disappear, as long as I was able to make him feel that I was there and he’d look at me again one last time. Could he have done more, to salvage whatever was left? He cries. It hurt so bad , it’s painful his chest was tightening once more. He has been coughing up even more recently. A lot more than usual that he didn’t even have time to get mad at the system.
Speaking of the system, in this situation it was the one who played doctor; it constantly asked if he wanted to go back to his real world.
He’d always decline. At the back of his mind though, he thanked it instead because he got this opportunity to meet his love in this lifetime.
Shen Qingqiu for the last time felt Binghe turn his back on him; he really won’t be able to catch up to him nor reach him—no matter how much he stretches his arms or runs for miles. It’s final. For a while, he imagines what if they were still together; all the memories and moments they could’ve made, but that was just wishful thinking. I wish he got to hold me one last time and told me he loved me. I wish I could’ve done it too. No matter how much I whispered I love you’s to him, it all at once feels insufficient.
Suddenly, he was wheezing heavily. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widened as he got a foreboding feeling. Heart racing he scrambled out of bed and hastily got out papers, paint brush and ink. He wanted to write a final goodbye, but it looks like he wouldn’t be able to.
Clink! Splash! Crash!
The ink bottles bumped against each other and spilled on the papers and table as Shen Qingqiu scrambled to write; some of the ink was even on his hands. Clutching his robes now with blotches of inks, he was hacking. Bloody flowers just kept coming out of his mouth continuously. He looked at the window, silently hoping anyone, silently hoping he would see him and come help. Silently hoping he would come and say sweet nothings to his ear to stop this pain. The last thing he sees was the mess he made and the light from the sun, similar to the ones in Binghe’s eyes from before.
He was never fond of flowers, but Binghe would still give him flowers even if they were not together anymore.
It hurt, but they were a manifestation that what they had was real and something so beautiful.
Do you wish to go back to your real world?
No.
–--
I’m already dead in both worlds—what’s the use of asking if I want to go back? At least here, at least here, this is where I had Binghe.
If it was bright and sunny just a while ago, contrasting with Shen Qingqiu’s conditions, now the gloomy sky and pitter-patter of rain perfectly describes him.
Binghe trudged to their shared house, his boots making squelching sounds as he walked through the mud. The warmth that Shen Qingqiu has been looking for is back, but there isn’t anything to warm now. As Binghe opened the door, he looked around and saw a mess of clothes, writing materials, flowers, and blood everywhere. Lying amidst it was his past lover’s cold, lifeless body—he stared at it with eyes void of emotion and a solemn expression. There was nothing for him to say.
In the ground where Shen Qingqiu was buried, he offered one of the flowers unstained with blood he found.