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Shen Jiu watched from a lonely corner of the banquet, cup in hand, expression fluctuating between disdain and resignation. In the center of the hall, the prince of this absurd world twirled with a young lady to the beat of the music, his smile resplendent as if there were no other concern in life than finding enlightenment under a golden chandelier.
To say that he woke up disoriented after dying by swallowing Qi-ge's sword would be an outrageous understatement. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes were silk sheets with embroidery so exaggeratedly ornate that they seemed to want to suffocate him with their ostentation. The room he woke up in had neither the elegant minimalism of the pavilions of a respectable sect nor the majestic sobriety of the imperial palace where, in his youth, he had to recite a poem for the Son of Heaven. No. The decor was so ostentatiously delicate that it gave the impression that a disgraced scholar had sold himself to the aesthetics of a wealthy merchant with poor taste.
What unsettled him the most was not waking up in a bed with overly perfumed sheets or the extravagant architecture of the room, but seeing the little beast—Luo Binghe—serving him as a sort of glorified servant.
The boy had the docile expression of a lamb happily grazing in a spring meadow, but Shen Jiu knew well that beneath those layers and layers of feigned innocence lay the essence of a wolf with sharp fangs. It was a disguise so ridiculously elaborate that only someone with the perception of a pickled turnip would have believed it.
Naturally, Shen Jiu ignored him completely and hurriedly climbed out of bed, heading to the large mirror in the room. His hands barely trembled as he raised his face to inspect himself.
Luckily, her face was still the same: beautiful, arrogant, and perfectly recognizable. However, the nightclothes he wore were an attack on his dignity. Pompous, ridiculously embroidered, and with more lace than any sensible person would consider appropriate. It looked like something the fragile heroine of a cheap romance novel would wear.
But that wasn't the important thing.
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.
His qi.
He felt it flowing within his body, as if it had never been sealed, as if the stupid beast had never thrown him into the hell of martial impotence.
For the first time since he opened his eyes in this strange world, Shen Jiu felt something akin to relief.
...And then he looked down at the nightclothes again.
Dying again sounded more and more tempting.
Embarrassment burned his cheeks in a soft pink hue. Shen Jiu was not one to blush easily, but being caught wearing that monstrosity of a nightclothes was enough to make him question his dignity.
Slowly, he turned his head towards the little beast, who was still standing in the room with a doubtful expression.
“Go away.” He ordered without further ado. It was humiliating enough that this demonic half-breed was breathing the same air as him, but to allow him to see him draped in lace and embroidery… Unacceptable.
“B-but, young master, I still have to dress him up for breakfast with Lord Shen…”
Dress him up?
Hell, he was going to let that thing get close to him.
Shen Jiu narrowed his eyes and cast the same icy glare on Luo Binghe that he used whenever his foolish disciples thought they could disobey his orders without consequences. His green eyes, sharp as jade daggers, flashed with a coldness that promised unspeakable torment.
Luo Binghe hesitated for a moment… and then, with the swiftness of someone who had seen his life flash before his eyes, he bowed respectfully and immediately retreated.
Shen Jiu snorted.
At least, some things didn’t change, no matter what damn world he was in.
What was different—he soon discovered—was this ‘Shen Jiu’s’ family. Mainly, the fact that he had a family to begin with.
It seemed like a particularly cruel cosmic joke.
Apparently, this Shen Jiu was the second son of a high-ranking noble family. The system of this kingdom was governed by a power scheme similar to that of an imperial family, with noble titles and a strictly defined hierarchy. It wasn’t difficult to understand, just irritating.
The Shens held the title of dukes, an old noble house with so much accumulated prestige that, if it were gold, they could have melted an entire palace down to it. His ‘elder brother’ was the heir, being raised and trained to become the next Shen duke.
And as expected of any noble family that had a useless second son floating around, Shen Jiu was… engaged.
The silence that followed this revelation was so absolute that one could hear the crack of his patience breaking.
Compromised.
Shen Jiu put a hand to his temple and slowly closed his eyes.
Being reborn in a strange world with a nobility system? Annoying, but manageable.
Having a noble family that probably expected him to act like a worthy son of the aristocracy? Unbearable, but at least it gave him a decent status. Being a second fiddle with an arranged marriage?
Ah.
Ahhhgg.
Yes. The option of dying again was definitely still on his mind.
Shen Jiu had sat at the Shen family table with an impeccably neutral expression, hiding the frustration within as he stiffly ate the ostentatious breakfast laid out before him.
He didn't actually need to eat. His cultivation allowed him to practice inedia, making the need to eat more of a formality than an actual necessity. However, leaving the table would have been a wasted opportunity.
After all, if there was a perfect place to gather information in a noble family, it was at the table. And if there was one type of people who talked more than they should without thinking, it was the aristocrats with a full stomach and a loose tongue.
Sadly, it seemed that his new family was trying hard to be unique and different, because the only thing that accompanied the clatter of cutlery against porcelain was a deathly silence.
Shen Jiu blinked slowly, observing those present with growing disbelief.
No scandalous gossip.
No presumptuous comments about politics or marriage alliances.
No fake laughter or saccharine flattery.
Just a solemn and rigid atmosphere that seemed to be taken from a Taoist sect in full spiritual retreat.
Of course.
Only his luck would see him end up in a family with a serious, stoic patriarch who ruled the table with a stern gaze, turning the meal into an exercise in self-control and decorum.
Shen Jiu looked down at his soup.
With the grace of an immortal master who had more important things to do, Shen Jiu stood up from his chair, bowed his head slightly, and wished the eldest son and patriarch a good day before heading for the door.
Behind him, Luo Binghe followed with the devotion of a pet puppy, his expression almost identical to that of his days as his disciple. The only difference was that this time he was wearing a ridiculous servant uniform instead of the robes of a cultivator.
Of course, Shen Jiu didn’t pay him the slightest bit of attention.
Just as he was about to leave, Duke Shen looked up from his plate and really observed him for the first time. Something about his youngest son seemed… different.
The same coldness was still there, but there was a detachment, a disconnect that was hard not to notice.
The duke narrowed his eyes in contemplation.
'Ah. Maybe he wanted more money for his allowance.'
He cleared his throat lightly, drawing Shen Jiu's attention with that simple sound.
"Son, I'll increase your allowance. Dress decently for tonight's banquet. Prince Liu Qingge will be present."
Shen Jiu stiffened.
Liu Qingge.
No.
No, this had to be an interdimensional joke.
Not only was he engaged.
Not only was he trapped in a ridiculous world of aristocrats and arranged marriages.
But he had one foot on the altar with Liu Qingge.
That brute. That idiot. That fool with a brain full of muscles.
Shen Jiu looked down at the bread knife on the table.
Maybe… maybe it wasn’t too late
Shen Jiu closed his eyes for a brief moment, suppressing the almost visceral urge to scream in fury. Then, with the elegance of someone who had just received the worst news of his existence, he nodded to Duke Shen and left the room.
As he made his way to his room, he couldn’t help but take in the architecture of the place with disgust. It was ridiculously ostentatious.
He never thought that someone would commit the sacrilege of painting entire landscapes on the damned ceiling, where no one could appreciate them with due respect. Did the nobility of this world suffer from a pathological need to waste money on useless things?
The hallways were just as offensive: walls decorated with the work of the finest artists, floors of pure marble, polished to a mirror shine. It was the kind of extravagance that only one of the most wasteful and pompous emperors would allow himself.
Of course, he had to end up in this ridiculous mansion of excess and bad taste.
When he finally reached his room, he slammed the door shut—right in the face of the little beast that had followed him there.
He leaned his back against the door, taking a deep breath.
Fine.
He had to make a plan.
Obviously, he wasn’t going to marry that brute Liu Qingge.
Nor was he going to bear the thought of spending any more time conversing with Duke Shen and his fascinating eldest son. Nor was he going to be used as a political pawn for an arranged marriage.
The best thing would be to end the engagement as soon as possible, come up with an absurd excuse—believable enough for the duke to leave him alone—and get the hell out of this damn place.
Yes, that he would do.
Shen Jiu looked around, taking in the ridiculously large and opulent room he found himself in.
Yes… he definitely needed to leave as soon as possible.
And now, in the present, he found himself trapped in a banquet filled with rosy-cheeked ladies and young gentlemen who seemed to be competing over who could sigh the most elegantly.
Shen Jiu let out a sigh, his patience wearing thin by the moment. He needed to approach the brute, face him, and tell him once and for all that the engagement was off. But of course, the idiot was still dancing with… Was that Qi Qingqi?
It was as if fate was hell-bent on making his life even more unbearable.
He took another sip from his cup, which had already been emptied more times than he cared to admit. Several ladies approached him, like flies to honey, and Shen Jiu, with the skill that only years of cultivation granted him, entertained them for a few moments with recited poems, all the while keeping a careful eye on Liu Qingge.
That idiotic brute, couldn't he see that his damn fiancé wanted to talk to him?
But no, there he was, spinning and tumbling in a poor imitation of a dance, oblivious to everything around him, including himself, who was already on the verge of exasperation.
Shen Jiu gritted his teeth, wishing that at least that cup had something stronger than wine in it.
"Excuse me, maidens." Shen Jiu said goodbye to the ladies around him, with a smile so polished it could have been a masterpiece of calligraphy. He had no intention of being cruel to them, after all, they were high society ladies, oblivious to all the disaster he was experiencing.
The ladies seemed a little sad to see him go, but luckily for him, they didn't insist too much.
When he finally managed to shake off the female attention, he looked at Liu Qingge, who was still dancing with the elegance of a monkey in a circus. At this rate, he was sure to get peanuts thrown at him.
"It would be best to go out and get some fresh air in the gardens outside," Shen Jiu thought, raising his glass with a resigned expression on his face.
Anything, absolutely anything, was better than continuing to watch this ridiculous dance.
Shen Jiu loosened the collar of his suit, feeling the urgent need to take off this thing that was oppressing him. Apparently, in this place they did not understand the concept of robes. When he had asked the little beast to bring him something that looked like it, the look it had given him was as if it had grown another head.
The little beast, with that look of total incomprehension, had brought him... a damn dress with layers and layers of lace.
Shen Jiu, without thinking, grabbed the beast by the hem of its clothes and pushed it out of the room, dress and all, like a sack of potatoes. The little beast had fallen outside the door, utterly bewildered.
There were no robes, no, just this stiff, jeweled and embroidered velvet clothing, which looked more like a cloth prison. Right now, Shen Jiu would have killed for a pair of simple, comfortable and, above all, functional robes.
But no, here he was, trapped in a cage of jewels and velvet.
Shen Jiu looked around, letting the night breeze clear his mind a little. At least the gardens were pretty, he had to admit that. Fragrant, vibrantly colored flowers grew neatly along the paths, forming an almost picturesque picture.
He might have continued to appreciate the elegance of the landscape if not for the fact that, as he turned his head, his eyes came upon something that made him stop dead in his tracks.
It wasn't just one bush. Not even two.
There were several.
Cut out with sickening precision in the shape of animals. A swan with outstretched wings, a fox that looked like it was about to pounce, and worst of all, a horse with a horn on its head.
Shen Jiu stared at it for a long moment, with the blank expression of someone who was processing an unexpected level of ridiculousness.
He shook his head, with the exhaustion of someone who no longer expected anything from this world.
What a crazy world. How strange its customs were.
He simply plopped down beside the marble fountain, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked up at the night sky. At least that hadn't changed. If he had woken up in this absurd world to find a green or pink sky instead of the deep black of the night, he honestly didn't know what he would have done.
Maybe go back to look for that bread knife.
For a few minutes, he stood there, enjoying the cool breeze with his eyes closed, letting the night air clear his mind. It was hard to say what bothered him more: his ridiculous engagement, the little beast following him around like a lapdog, or the fact that he had to wear those inflexible clothes instead of his usual robes.
Just as he began to reorganize his thoughts, his ears picked up a rhythmic sound in the distance. Footsteps.
His cultivation allowed him to notice that this was no simple night stroll. Someone was coming. At a steady pace. With a set course.
Right toward him.
Shen Jiu stood up in one fluid motion, preparing himself in case the situation called for it. And boy did it.
As the figure drew closer, the shadows of the night slowly receded, revealing a face he knew all too well.
Qi-ge.
His heart raced instinctively, an annoying reflex he couldn't control. His eyes widened intently, scanning every feature with the same caution one would observe a wild beast. Yes, when he saw Liu Qingge and Qi Qingqi at the banquet, he had assumed that other of his former sect mates might be lurking around here, but Qi-ge…
He didn't expect to see him so soon.
Before he does anything stupid, he locks away any feelings by appealing to logic. This isn't his Qi-ge. Just a pale copy in an absurd world. And the more he looks at this Qi-ge, the more apparent it becomes how different he is.
This Qi-ge looks young, in his mid-twenties, dressed in a ridiculously ostentatious suit, full of jewelry, with short hair. Nothing like his Qi-ge, who preferred simplicity, without unnecessary adornments, with long hair falling like a dark waterfall.
It's just like the other copies he's encountered in this world: twisted versions of his reality, like reflections in a wind-disturbed lake. Qi Qingqi would never have agreed to dance with Liu Qingge. Liu Qingge would never have taken the time to attend a banquet. Everything here is a mockery, a grotesque parody of what he knows.
This is not his Qi-ge.
“Xiao-Jiu, it’s been a while.”
The fake Qi-ge smiles warmly at him, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, as if he’s genuinely pleased to see him. He approaches with measured steps, until he’s standing a short distance away.
“I’ve recently learned of your engagement to His Highness, Prince Liu Qingge.”
Shen Jiu frowns, his displeasure evident at the mention of the nickname and the reminder of his unhappy situation with the brute.
He doesn’t know what kind of relationship this fake Qi-ge has with him in this world, but he’s not interested in finding out either. He’s not his Qi-ge. He’ll never be his Qi-ge.
Not bothering to respond, he simply walks past him, ignoring him with the indifference of a consummate immortal. He has more pressing matters to attend to than wasting time on a cheap copy. Like, for example, finding the damn brute and settling this engagement once and for all.
“Ah, I see you are still upset.”
The fake Qi-ge’s voice carried a hint of melancholy, and it was that, more than the words themselves, that made Shen Jiu stop dead in his tracks.
In all his decades as Peak Lord, he had never heard Qi-ge’s tone like that. Not even when they were children on the streets, surviving with gritted teeth and dirty fingernails.
Shen Jiu turned his head just enough to glance at him, but the fake Qi-ge did not look up. The smiling warmth from earlier had dissipated, leaving behind an air of restrained sadness.
“I am aware of the mistakes I made,” he continued, with a solemnity uncharacteristic of him. “But if you allow me to atone for my faults, if you grant me one last chance, I swear on my honor and that of my house that I will never disappoint you again.”
Shen Jiu felt a chill run down his spine.
That was not his Qi-ge.
His Qi-ge would never have spoken with such sadness, would never have made an oath with such a desolate tone. His Qi-ge had always been trusting, stubborn, clumsily naive, but never... never like this.
And that made him even more unbearable.
"What kind of blunder have you committed that you now come with such a ridiculous plea?" He says, his tone dry and sharp as a sabre blade.
Qi-ge looks up urgently, as if he fears that Shen Jiu will vanish before his eyes.
"I know my apologies are not enough, but I beg you, Xiao-Jiu..."
Shen Jiu feels a chill run down his spine. Xiao-Jiu. That damn nickname again.
Clenching his jaw, Shen Jiu takes a step back, walking away from the fake Qi-ge with the coldness of someone who has just found something disgusting on his plate.
“If you wish to redeem yourself,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do it away from me.”
Without waiting for a reply, he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving the fake Qi-ge behind, with his empty oath and meaningless sadness.
His patience was exhausted. Ever since he woke up in this stupid world, everything had been a relentless whirlwind of absurd situations. He had barely had time to organize a plan, and he no longer had the mood to deal with stubborn men who never explained anything.
So, when he saw Liu Qingge chatting with other nobles, he didn’t even bother to think twice. With the determination of a man on the verge of collapse, he grabbed him by the hem of his ridiculous, gold-embroidered shirt and dragged him unceremoniously to a secluded corner of the castle.
The nobles looked at the scene in disbelief, and Liu Qingge, for his part, seemed too shocked to put up any resistance right away. But Shen Jiu was in no mood for diplomacy.
"The engagement agreement between you and me is void." His tone was clear, sharp, final, as if he were passing down an irrevocable sentence.
Liu Qingge blinked, quickly composing himself. He frowned and disdainfully removed his hands from his attire, as if Shen Jiu had left something contaminating on him.
"Is it because of Qi Qingqi?" he asked sternly. "Shen Jiu, stop being so jealous. She is my cousin."
For a moment, Shen Jiu just stared at him in silence. Then, with the coldest of expressions, he cocked his head and looked at him as if he had just heard the biggest stupidity of the century.
Jealous?
Jealous?
Did this brute have sawdust in his head?
Shen Jiu took a breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and then, with a patience that even the most venerable monks could not have achieved, said:
"Prince Liu, it does not concern me in the least who you choose to dance with, be it your cousin, your dog, or a wooden post. What I am saying is that our engagement has expired. It has ceased to exist. I have erased it from my mind like the wind erases footprints in the sand."
Liu Qingge's frown deepened. "You speak too hastily. Could it be that you already have someone else in your sights?"
Shen Jiu did not immediately respond. His gaze slowly slid over the prince, assessing him. And then, with the impassiveness of a sage who has attained enlightenment, he narrowed his eyes and let out an almost melancholy sigh.
"Yes." He said finally, imbuing his voice with an air of solemn mysticism. “That is why I no longer wish to marry you. Someone else has stolen my heart.”
Liu Qingge stared at him silently before advancing steadily, cornering him against the wall. His expression was that of a general who had just heard the most ridiculous declaration of war in history.
“I don’t believe you. You have pursued me for over a year, insisting on uniting our families in marriage. You have banished and struck down anyone who dared to stand in the way of this engagement. And now you intend to throw it all away just like that?”
Shen Jiu felt the warmth of Liu Qingge’s hand on his face and the urge to cut it off burned in his blood.
“It’s obvious that this is a pathetic ploy to get my attention.” Liu Qingge continued with infuriating certainty. “And that’s fine, I accept it. I have fallen into your honey trap. There is no need for you to continue playing these little games anymore, Shen Jiu.”
Shen Jiu’s jaw tightened. Honey trap? Pathetic ploy? What a shameless bastard! If it weren't for the fact that they were in the palace hallway, with potential witnesses at every corner, he would already be looking for the most creative way to strangle him with a curtain.
"Ah, what a pity…" He sighed, raising an eyebrow in feigned sadness. "Just when I thought we could part on good terms."
But Liu Qingge only smiled, like a cat that had just caught its mouse.
"There are no good terms between us."
And Shen Jiu knew, with all the certainty of his miserable existence, that this was going to be a complete nightmare.