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Meeting Song Qingshi was… enlightening. Also, disturbing and uncomfortable. The latter two emotions were partially due to the person himself as well as the knowledge he easily gave up to Shen Qingqiu, but that's beside the point.
He finally has an answer.
Why he was thrown into a different world, why the System was as cruel as it was, why it was as powerful as it was, why Binghe was forced to suffer so much.
Demonic energy, the likes of which even the worst demon or demonic creature couldn't dare to dream of, manipulated the realms with the goal of producing more and more of itself. Happy endings were banned. Suffering was eternal.
Shen Qingqiu was able to save one Binghe, but the others? They reincarnated over and over, each heading down a dark, nearly unchanging fate. Rendered parentless as a child due to the selfishness and greed of a high ranking cultivator; given good things just enough to be deeply attached and then have it taken away; laboring under harsh teachings and jealous seniors; finally, living an empty life where he pursued fleeting joys only to find nothing relieved the darkness inside of him—suffering, suffering, suffering.
Luo Binghe was a person made to suffer.
And Shen Qingqiu has the opportunity to fix it… as soon as he stops being interviewed by this strange person and his personal Phoenix.
"You said your System has simply attached itself to the 'protagonist', Luo Binghe, and leeched off his energy in order to operate?" Song Qingshi summarizes, rapidly taking notes with a pen (a pen! A modern, non-magical pen!! Shen Qingqiu didn't know whether to laugh or cry that the mere sight of such a convenient device has given him so much joy and also filled him with so much jealousy). At Shen Qingqiu's brief agreement, he immediately begins writing down more enthusiastically while theorizing out loud. "This demonic energy remnant separated from the rest of the group, becoming isolated in this corner of the World Tree, of course it would need to find a way to be fed while also conserving energy. But this leap in logic is such a fascinating departure from the rest of the demonic energies that rotted the worlds we know, where they ran wild in order to gorge themselves. A defining factor lies in whether it chose to separate or was forcibly separated from the group, and when this separation occured. If it happened during the cleansing, then the simplest answer would be that it holds self preservation above feasting, giving it a higher standard than most demonic energies we've seen. But if it was before, then perhaps it was seeking its own kingdom of a sort? But then, if it was forcibly removed to this remote area then—"
The Phoenix on his shoulder trills, a heavenly sound that draws Song Qingshi's attention and makes something shiver inside Shen Qingqiu. It's a mix of pleasant to the ear and grating on the soul that has Shen Qingqiu instinctively pulling out his fan to cover his slight grimace.
Song Qingshi doesn't seem to notice, fully giving the bird his attention. It tilts its head, staring down at the paper in front of them, shakes itself, then hops lightly into the air. A burst of flame consumes its form, leaving an incredibly beautiful man in red to float gently to the ground.
Now, Shen Qingqiu has always believed Binghe to be the most peerless, perfect specimen of a protagonist, head and shoulders above anyone who could exist in a world based on a novel that literally revolved around him. It was a simple fact that followed logic. Liu-shidi, for all his beauty, has a poor way of expressing himself that limits his face to stern frowns at worst and just above neutral at best. Binghe's father came the closest in terms of protagonist halo effect, but it was a far less clean beauty, more rugged and smug than Binghe ever could—or should!!—be, considering how much of his face must have come from his mother.
That being said, it's becoming even more clear to Shen Qingqiu that these two are, quite literally, gods that are untethered from the laws of this world. Because how is it possible?? To be so pretty?? This Phoenix-man, hair reaching his ankles, with a clear face and slightly honeyed skin color, eyes piercing gold, he was surely the protagonist of his own world!
The thought gives him a flash of hope, because if this protagonist was able to be freed, surely Binghe will be as well?
Yue Wuhuan, looking at this cultivator in front of him, finds his aura to be cleanly enough, with the exception of a very heavy taint cycling through his meridians. "Are you aware of the demonic energy inside you?"
"Ah, yes. That's Binghe's blood," Shen Qingqiu replies, deciding to leave out the other two demons who've force fed him blood. If he had a nickel for every time that happened… "As a Heavenly Demon his blood possesses many powers, and can be controlled through Binghe's will."
Song Qingshi perks up a little, getting an odd look on his face. Recognizing it as his intense urge to scientifically study something to death, Yue Wuhuan smiles, saying, "If we could gather a sample of that, we would be very appreciative.”
Sharpening up, Shen Qingqiu looks shrewdly at the two. “For all I would appreciate your appreciation, for what purpose? Heavenly Demon blood is highly powerful and not something easily given up. It can be poisonous if handled wrong,” he adds, hoping to soften the sheer paranoia he’s putting off.
“If you’re concerned for your Daoist companion, I assure you I’m just a doctor. I don’t seek to harm good people,” Song Qingshi says earnestly. “I graduated top of my class and have treated many people in between then and now!”
“Your… class? Did you go to university?!” At Song Qingshi’s happy affirmation, Shen Qingqiu stares in shock. Despite his lack of verbal questioning, his thoughts are loud: Why would a god go to university?? Why would a god go out of his way to be a doctor anyway??
“We should be focussing on the matter at hand, no?” Yue Wuhuan says gently. Shen Qingqiu straightens up warily at the sudden tension in the air. Right. A pair of gods, including a Phoenix—not the kind of people he wants to start poking at too much.
“Yes, right. I’ll ask Binghe when he returns,” Shen Qingqiu promises quickly.
"You do not have furnaces in this realm?" Song Qingshi asks, looking interested. The man seems to find everything interesting. Shen Qingqiu can't begrudge that, since his first thoughts are usually for what monsters he can find in whatever area he happens to be.
"Furnaces?" he repeats, drawing a blank. "Ah, pill furnaces? I think my shidi has some on his Peak, but our world largely relies on raw materials and spells, or qi manipulation."
While Song Qingshi nods and notes that down, Yue Wuhuan cuts to the actual question his companion meant. "Do you not know of human furnaces? Where cultivators take qi from lower cultivations in order to increase their own?"
Shen Qingqiu stops walking, taken aback by the description. That … he hasn't thought of that since he last ditched a horrible web novel that used that method! The protagonist was so lacking to begin with, and the author decided to use such horrible tropes in order to make some dog blood drama that had more unpleasantness than Shen Qingqiu had been able to even find words to criticize! His poor keyboard had almost given out on him that day.
For all Airplane's idiocy and horrible, cheap plots, he never took the time to write such garbage into Proud Immortal Demon's Way. The fantasies he mostly relied on were many, many, overly willing beauties basically throwing themselves at the all powerful protagonist.
Disgust clearly written over his features, Shen Qingqiu says, "No, this world has no such thing."
"Such an easy way to breed evil and gain power, yet this demonic energy doesn't use it," Yue Wuhuan responds, sounding somewhat bitter.
Song Qingshi hums. "That was for a whole world though. This relies solely upon one person for energy. No, not just energy—a host. This is a parasitic relationship, undoubtedly, but perhaps there can be backlash between the host and the parasite? There are many species where…"
Shen Qingqiu is pulled away from the conversation by his thoughts turning to Xin Mo unwillingly. The original Luo Binghe, he gave and gave to that wretched sword, sex and blood for hundreds of years. In return it offered more and more power until even the heavens could not stand against him. His unique bearing and unique genetics had him at the perfect cross point of powerful enough to wield the sword and mentally vulnerable enough to be manipulated by it. Tianlang-jun, for all his eccentricities, didn't covet the sword. Mobei-jun had no desires for power over the realms. Actually, Shen Qingqiu isn't sure he has desires, period, with the exception of Airplane-bro, for whatever reason.
While Song Qingshi continues speaking Yue Wuhuan observes the mortal born cultivator. The man knows something. They've barely scratched the surface of this world's narrative and Yue Wuhuan has already gotten a little tired of it. Though it does not reek as some worlds did, there was such an odd flavor to the air here—sex and violence seems to have seeped into the flora itself rather than just the people.
Aggrievedly, Liu Qingge watches as Shen Qingqiu returns to his peak followed by two people he’s never seen before. He squints a second, his eyes taking in the intensely beautiful men, before their deeply powerful auras hit him. He’s reaching for his sword without a single thought, instinct driving him to protect .
Shen Qingqiu spots him then, face lighting up subtly and raising his hand to greet him. Then he realizes what’s about to happen and immediately scolds loudly, “Liu-shidi! These are guests! And this is my peak! As if I would simply invite people who would harm my students here.” He glares sharply. “Behave.”
Song Qingshi and Yue Wuhuan share a glance, thrown back to a different world for a moment.
(In a border world, mid choking out a demon he has in a firm headlock, An Long sneezes.)
“Song-xianjun, Yue-xianjun, this is my shidi, Liu Qingge. These two are,” Shen Qingqiu falters for a split second before throwing out the first thing that comes to mind. “They are my cousins.”
…
All four men stare at each other, three with increasingly uncomprehending faces and one slowly growing flustered under the silence. Reaching for a fan, Shen Qingqiu becomes even more unbalanced to find it missing. Liu-shidi doesn’t miss a beat, striding over to place one directly into his hand.
Realizing what he’s done, in front of Qingqiu’s “cousins” nonetheless, he backs away just enough to acknowledge them and proceeds to immediately flee the area on his sword.
Staring at the retreating white-clad back, Shen Qingqiu awkwardly apologizes. Song Qingshi says, “Why did you claim us as cousins? We bear little resemblance. Your physiology is rather distinct compared to mine, and Wuhuan and I are even less aligned. Even while keeping in mind the randomness of genetic mixing and possibilities of issues during pregnancy, such things would be hard to pass off as simply chance.”
“There’s also the issue that I am canonically an orphan,” Shen Qingqiu adds dryly, piling dirt upon his own grave. “It’s probably okay, Liu-shidi gets irritated at me sometimes after he finds my fans lying around and does this. He’s not much of a gossip, either. My students, however…” He narrows his eyes into the distance, looking out for any green clad children. One whiff of this and it’ll be spread by morning at the latest. He turns to the two, ready to usher them inside his home, only to find them in an intimate position. Yue Wuhuan is holding Song Qingshi’s face, murmuring gentle, soft things that are turning the other’s face red while clutching him closely.
Shen Qingqiu suddenly feels bad for all the dogfood he and Binghe have fed unwitting victims. Politely, he snaps his fan over his own face, turning his gaze away. When is Binghe going to be back, anyway? Didn’t he say by the end of today? It’s been nearly a week. For some reason, his chest hurts. Shen Qingqiu quickly cycles his qi, searching for anything wrong with his meridians but finds nothing. Odd.
After their intimate moment goes on just slightly too long, Shen Qingqiu loudly asks the bamboo trees in front of him, “Would you like some tea? We can discuss our issue in my house.” The bamboo rustles in the wind.