Work Text:
The First Death
“Believe it or not, you have a choice.”
Shen Yuan whipped around, trying to find the source of the voice. All he could see were dreamlike colors. “What?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to die? There will be trials.” Shen Yuan nearly fell over.
“What—“ he was speechless for a moment. “Yes!” He yelled, echoing in the silence. For some reason, his heart was racing. “I don’t want to die, obviously! What kind of stupid question is that?”
The world faded to black.
The Second Death
Shen Qingqiu breathed a sigh of relief. Binghe wasn’t here, he must have escaped.
Wait. He paused, tilting his head a little. He…didn’t seem like a mushroom, at the moment. For one, he could still breathe. He didn’t seem like he wasn’t underground. Shen Qingqiu turned in a slow circle, but his surroundings seemed to shift like massive snakes slithering around him. He couldn’t focus on just one thing before it changed its shape.
“You’re not… alive.” A small voice spoke up next to his ear. He whipped around.
A man stood in front of him, hands in his sleeves. Above clear, opal-bright eyes shone a green mark of sin on his forehead. A demon. Shen Qingqiu backed up a step involuntarily.
Luo Binghe had most of the demons in the north under his control, and since this one had a human figure, this must be one of his servants.
The demon smiled faintly. “I’m not a demon. My official position is Jian Cha Zhan.”
What kind of psychopath cultivator would paint a mark of sin on their forehead?
He shook his head. “Not a cultivator, either. If you define death as separation from body, this is the second time you’ve died,” the demon said with a subtle, condescending smile.
Shen Qingqiu had had enough of these games. Clearly this was some sort of dream realm and he was trapped here. Why this guy could read his mind, he wasn’t sure. But he sure wasn’t dead.
He walked into the wall of shifting snakes making up his surroundings, and suddenly everything stopped moving onto a very familiar scene in Hu city.
Luo Binghe was cradling Shen Qingqiu’s body.
Shen Qingqiu turned back to look at the other man, who just smiled faintly. “Your soul is here, your body is there. Dead,” the demon pointed, taking a delicate white hand from his sleeve.
Luo Binghe’s eyes flashed, but he wasn’t looking at the newcomers. He was staring at the body in his arms. “Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu called over the sound of the crowd. Just as he suspected, Luo Binghe couldn’t hear him.
Ning Yingyingg was talking, requesting that Luo Binghe not say “Shizun” anymore. Luo Binghe didn’t seem to hear her either.
“I… I was just so angry,” Luo Binghe was saying. His voice sounded hollow and shocked. “Shizun, I…”
But he didn’t finish. The scene dissolved in an instant, shifting in large slides and coming to a stop in a large room. Luo Binghe burst in from the large double doors, gasping as tears streamed down his flushed face. He rushed over to the large platform and the flurry of motion stopped; he laid Shen Qingqiu’s body down on the stone as gently as one would a newborn child.
Their faces were so close that Luo Binghe’s tears hit the corpse’s cheek. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help the uncomfortable flutter of guilt in his stomach as Luo Binghe threw himself over the body, apologizing over and over again.
Shen Qingqiu was mostly confused. Why was Luo Binghe so devastated? Original-Binghe had killed the original Shen Qingqiu elaborately and painfully. His death shouldn’t have caused this.
“Are you sure you want to go back?” The Jian Cha Zhan asked. Shen Qingqiu tore his eyes from the pathetic scene.
“Yes, I want to go back. Did the Sun-Moon Dew mushroom fail?” It was clear enough that this wasn’t the dream realm.
“Not yet. It can, though. Your choice.”
Shen Qingqiu realized that Luo Binghe was saying something, and he drifted closer to listen. Luo Binghe’s face was still muffled in the corpse’s clothes.
Speak up, Shen Qingqiu urged silently. As if he could hear, Luo Binghe’s head jerked up.
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe whispered. His voice still shook but he wasn’t crying anymore. He was still cradling that empty shell gently. “Shizun I forgot to tell you this, I forgot to tell you!”
His words were starting to blend together. Shen Qingqiu longed to smack the disciple over the head. Speak clearly!
“Shizun I love you. Please, please wake up. Please, I just told you it, now you have to come back—“
Shen Qingqiu couldn’t respond. Luo Binghe watched the corpse’s face hopefully but he couldn’t seem to stop the stream of words.
He was confessing, explaining his reasons for what he did since coming back from the pit, punctuating each sentence with another apology.
So the reason why Luo Binghe failed to collect any of his harem, the reason he had instead devoted all that attention to serving his peak and peak lord like a meek little sheep. It hadn’t been because of delays in the storyline. All of his passion towards those hundreds of women in the original story…had instead been directed to a single man, now dead?
He didn’t want to believe it. However, it was undeniable; in the original story, Luo Binghe had never cried like this when he thought one of his wives had died.
For Luo Binghe to want him with this passion, for him to cry like his heart was being torn apart after he thought Shen Qingqiu dead, meant that his love ran deeper than Shen Qingqiu had been prepared for.
Goosebumps erupted over his skin like he had been thrown into the deep end of an icy pool. Luo Binghe wouldn’t hesitate to use him against his will. Binghe’s harem might not be here anymore, but Luo Binghe was, and Shen Qingqiu had read firsthand how little he cared about a pesky little thing like consent.
Shen Qingqiu should feel glad that he was in the process of escape. He should, but there was no way he could look at this pathetic scene and be grateful that he had put Luo Binghe, the demon lord, scourge of the realms and OP protagonist, in this wretched state.
“Will I remember this, when I go back?” He asked. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the scene. The demon Jian Cha Zhan shook his head.
“Are you sure you want to go back? This world doesn’t need you. You don’t belong here.” He extended a pale hand, offering a sleeping, coiled snake. Once it felt the motion of its master’s hand, it lifted its head a little to regard Shen Qingqiu with curiosity before falling back asleep.
“I want to go back. First though— are you the system?”
Something similar to disdain passed like a shadow over the Jian Cha Zhan’s face, the only change in expression so far. “The one you call The System is my…subordinate. It’s time for you to leave. May we meet again,” he waved.
The scene around him shifted and both Luo Binghe and the demon disappeared. The massive snakes that made up his surroundings seemed to constrict in closer and closer, until finally everything went black.
The Third Death
His head fell into his hands when buried memories flashed behind his eyes. He had really been stupid when he came back to life, not realizing that Luo Binghe loved him. His brilliant escape plan hadn’t worked, either, so he really had nothing to show after last time he was here.
“Did I really die again?” Shen Qingqiu blurted stupidly, before he could even see the figure among the blurry scene.
It wasn’t like the snakes of before though, this one was a mass of shifting colors like millions of fluttering things. Shen Qingqiu ran through the possibilities quickly while he tried to make out his surroundings.
“Yes, you’re dead again.” The voice sounded different.
The figure was a red-clad, lavish one. Shen Qingqiu would think of demon royalty because of the way silver metal seemed to drip off of his body, with bells and charms covering him from his shoulders to his boots.
He held out a palm with a neutral expression. On it lay a single white butterfly that was waving its wings lazily. Shen Qingqiu watched it flap.
“Who are you?”
“My official position is Jian Cha Zhan.”
“You’re not even going to show me what’s going on this time?” Shen Qingqiu asked, procrastinating for time. He really didn’t want to think about what was being offered to him, or what would happen if he took the butterfly.
Too late, he realized that Luo Binghe was probably defiling his body. When Shen Qingqiu was still alive, Luo Binghe had slipped a hand under his robes, calling himself no better than a beast without a hint of apology on his face. Shen Qingqiu didn’t want to see what he was doing now!
But the fluttery motions around them abruptly ceased, coalescing into the room Shen Qingqiu had died in. Shen Qingqiu flinched back at the first loud thud of the mushroom-corpse body against the ground, and then Luo Binghe started yelling.
“Shizun, no! How dare you leave me again! Do you not care at all for the sanity of your beloved disciple? How can you do this to me again? You would rather die than be near me!”
There was another loud thud as Luo Binghe slammed the body down against the ground again. It was like Luo Binghe was trying to punish this corpse, if not for the tears streaming down his face.
It should have dissolved already though. The soul was gone, so the body didn’t have a core anymore. Luo Binghe must be pumping an incredible amount of spiritual energy into it through the rough grip.
He released his grip and slumped over like he had been shot down. “Shizun I was never going to hurt you like that. Never. I don’t understand why that’s so hard for you to believe.”
The man in the eyepatch spoke up, face unreadable. He still held out the butterfly. “If you’re never going to love him back, why go back to him? You’re just hurting him more every time you leave. Why not make this the last time?”
Shen Qingqiu turned those words over in his head. If he were to go back to earth, he would spend the rest of his life running with all his might. He had already promised himself that.
Of course Luo Binghe loved him. Everything Luo Binghe had become was because of Shen Qingiqu.
Shen Qingqiu couldn’t just leave him alone with this agony. As he watched Luo Binghe cry like his soul was being torn in two, he resolved not to take the butterfly. He would go back, and he wouldn’t remember what he’d seen here, but maybe he could wake to see Luo Binghe’s tear-stained face and care for the invincible protagonist that had shattered into a million pieces. “Send me back,” he said softly. Like he was admitting something.
He couldn’t stay by Luo Binghe’s side forever as a devoted wife.
But… he still cared about him, the little sun. He wasn’t sure what he would do, but he wouldn’t leave Luo Binghe alone in that world.
Jian Cha Zhan waved his hand and Shen Qing Qingqiu fell into the darkness again.
Fourth Death
Luo Binghe flipped his hand over and grasped it, making Shen Qingqiu startle briefly before calming.
“Binghe,” he admonished. “You shouldn’t have come with me.” Binghe didn’t look ashamed in the slightest.
“Where Shizun goes, I follow,” he declared. Shen Qingqiu shook his head fondly. Of course.
Their time was up. They had lived lives long past their time, and all their friends had moved on already. The rising generation had already learned all they could from the two of them, Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe, the last remaining master and disciple of the Cang Qiong mountain sect Qing generation.
It had been several hundred years since Shen Qingqiu retired, but Luo Binghe never stopped calling him “Shizun.”
Even now.
The world around them shifted in calm stretches, like massive, invisible clouds moving across a canvas.
“It’s been a while.” The two of them turned to identify the speaker. This man was wearing simple traveling clothes and a wide bamboo hat, the draped white veil swirling around his body. The voice was soft and gentle, with kind eyes to match.
“It has,” Shen Qingqiu replied. “I don’t think I need to see the world this time.” Luo Binghe was right here.
Luo Binghe shot questioning glances between Shen Qingqiu and this cultivator. They were clearly familiar with each other, but Luo Binghe wasn’t anxious. Shen Qingqiu had been faithful and devoted for a little under a thousand years, and Luo Binghe had showered him in love in return.
Although it had once been untrue, there was no place for jealousy between them now. They had been married too long for that.
“There’s nothing there for you anymore,” Jian Cha Zhan agreed with a nod. Shen Qingqiu wondered if he was being watched through his entire life. Luo Binghe tugged on his hand to get his attention, leaning over Shen Qingqiu’s side.
Shen Qingqiu smiled at the silent declaration.
My whole world is right here.
The scene around them seemed to lighten, although none of the motion slowed. The cultivator in white seemed to radiate a simple, happy kind of joy, and he held out his hand to the couple. Across his palms lay a thin red string.
Luo Binghe watched as Shen Qingqiu reached out and took it, briefly unwinding his hand from Luo Binghe’s to tit it around one finger. Then Shen Qingqiu took Luo Binghe’s hand ad did the same for Luo Binghe, “Are you willing to spend the rest of eternity together?” The cultivator in white asked while he worked.
“Of course.” Even for an eternity, Shen Qingqiu knew he would be content. The world continued to lighten, as if it were making the gradual realization of a new day.
This had been a long time coming, and neither Luo Binghe nor Shen Qingqiu feared this anymore.
The cultivator in white shimmered and disappeared, and it was just the two of them alone together. Like it had been all along, in life.
The world went white, and then Shen Qingqiu couldn’t see anything, hear anything, taste or smell anything.
But he could feel Luo Binghe’s hand in his.