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Luo Binghe is not being overly confident when he says that he is truly a master of dream arts.
Meng Mo, for all his faults, is a decent teacher, and he has taught Luo Binghe everything he knows, starting from the basic tricks and finishing with the most obscure, forgotten techniques.
At this point the dream arts are as natural for Luo Binghe as breathing, and there is nothing that he cannot do. Penetrating a sleeping mind? Infiltrating someone's dreams? Going around any defenses? Weaving a dream to inject new thoughts and fears and ideas into a wakeful mind? Extracting the memories? Creating false memories? Destroying the mind? Creating a puppet? He can do all of that and more.
No matter how much he grumbles, even Meng Mo can't deny his accomplishments. Luo Binghe is exceptionally talented in dream arts.
However.
Luo Binghe can do a lot. But he can't do everything.
He actually has one glaring weakness. A weakness that is made even more embarrassing by the fact that Luo Binghe is so good at his craft.
Because despite being able to manipulate the minds of others, he remains almost completely unable to do anything with himself.
Of course, he can easily access his own dreamscape and give himself any dream he wants. But then it's not going to be a real dream. Sure, he can weave a beautiful dream and spend there the night after night. But will he wake up fresh and rested?
"What did you expect, brat?” Meng Mo once said, "Your mind might be strong, but your body still requires rest. I can get away since I’m incorporeal. But you? Ha! Give it a couple of hundred years, and maybe you will get to this level,” he laughed.
Luo Binghe has thrown him out of his mind for the audacity. This ancient asshole.
It's truly humiliating that he can command other people's dreams and be so utterly helpless before his own. He can create the most beautiful dreamscapes. And yet when he falls asleep, he is forced to toss around in his bed from nightmares, waking up with screams and forcing Shizun to comfort him. Sometimes he loses control and draws Shizun into his own dreams. And worst of all, sometimes he invades Shizun's dreams, unable to do anything.
Shizun is an extremely private person. He has gotten better with sharing his thoughts and feelings over the years. He even told Binghe the truth about his real name, and the System, and the Book. Still, despite Binghe already knowing all his major secrets, he really doesn't appreciate having his dreams invaded without his knowledge.
Luo Binghe hates it when he is forced to do so anyway.
Still, Shizun always says that there is nothing that can be done. If those occurrences are out of Luo Binghe's control, he should calm down and let the dream play out as it is.
As Luo Binghe remembers the kind words and his too-forgiving husband, he takes an approximation of a deep breath.
Shen Qingqiu is sleeping, and Luo Binghe is in his dreaming mind right now.
The scene before him is mundane. It's very dark. The sky is deep-blue, almost black, on the east is a thin strip of light. Not a dawn yet, but not a night anymore. With his demonic vision, it's not a problem for Luo Binghe to see what is happening. Shizun is flying on his sword far above the forest. Despite the darkness, Luo Binghe immediately recognizes the area near the Cang Qiong Mountains. Shizun flying in its direction, and judging by the familiar landmark below them and his speed, he is going to reach his peak in less than a quarter of a shichen.
It takes one glance at the scene for Luo Binghe to realize that he is seeing a memory. It's not the mundanity of the scene that tips him off, as dreams can be surprisingly dull and simple. However, a dreaming mind finds it rather difficult to deal with traveling any distance. If it was a dream, Shizun would have already arrived at the sect.
Luo Binghe himself floats through the memory like a ghost. Incorporeal, he follows Shizun’s form.
In any other situation he would have been relieved. This type of memory is the best to get sucked into: a mundane situation that doesn't reveal much about the person. Usually Luo Binghe would've been happy just to fly near his Shizun, admiring his face, not worrying about seeing something he shouldn't.
However, he can't help but notice some small details. The details that don't mean much on their own. But together they paint a worrying picture…
The most obvious detail is the fact that Shizun is flying when it's still so early. It wouldn't have been as concerning if it was winter: it’s common to wake up long before the sun is up in winter. But Luo Binghe can clearly see that his husband is dressed in robes he wears only in summer. And no one wakes up before the sunrise in the summer. Meaning that not only is Shizun flying in darkness, but he is also flying in the middle of the night.
Another detail is Shizun's look. The rising sun slowly paints Shizun's face in beautiful pinks and yellows. Usually Binghe would've been happy to admire his beloved. But Shizun…
He looks bad.
Now, Luo Binghe believes that even if Shizun was disfigured, he would've still looked lovely. His beauty has nothing to do with his looks but with his soul. And in this memory Shizun looks as lovely as ever. Except, he looks sick.
Luo Binghe would've expected to see the grumpiness on his husband’s face, from having to fly so early. Instead, he looks tired. There are deep shadows under his eyes, eyebrows scrunched in a frown, and lips downturned in an expression of unhappiness.
This expression is so foreign on his husband’s face, that for the moment Luo Binghe thinks this memory belongs not to his husband but to the previous owner of his body. Except Shen Jiu has never worn robes of such a light, almost white shade of green. And he never let his hair delicately frame his face so that even with wind blowing into his face, he looks soft and gentle. There is no doubt, it's the memory of Luo Binghe's husband.
This forces a new question to his mind: when does this memory take place?
He can't remember if there was a time during Luo Binghe's disciple years when Shizun returned in the middle of the night. And he certainly doesn't remember anything like that after they got married. Maybe it takes place during those days when Luo Binghe is forced to leave his husband to attend to the Demonic Realm?
As Luo Binghe thinks, Shen Qingqiu finally makes it to Qing Jing Peak. It looks familiar and yet also new. He has never seen Qing Jing Peak so early in the summer.
As they fly closer, Luo Binghe expects Shizun to fly right to his Bamboo house. Instead, he barely makes it to the peak before he dismounts his sword to walk on foot. Luo Binghe follows him, confused.
As they walk in the direction of the Bamboo house Shen Qingqiu keeps changing his speed. At first it slowly increases. He walks faster and faster until he is almost running. And then suddenly he stops in his tracks. When he starts walking again, he is so slow it feels like he is barely moving. This happens several times. It's almost as if he can't decide whether he wants to come faster to his point of destination or doesn't want to come to it at all.
In this strange tempo they finally make it to the Bamboo house. Coming closer to it, Shizun stops before the doors and just stares at it. Somehow he looks even more tired than before. They keep standing there for a short time before the house until Shizun takes a deep breath and opens a door.
Luo Binghe notices that his mind is weirdly silent. Maybe it's a somber atmosphere in the air, or maybe it’s Shizun's confusing behavior. Whatever it is, he feels like he can only observe what is happening. For some reason it feels very important for him to pay close attention to the memory itself and not his own theories and thoughts.
Shen Qingqiu finally opens the door.
The Bamboo house feels… weird in Shizun's memory.
Of course, the whole memory has been strange thus far. But there is something especially uncanny in seeing the place Luo Binghe has learned to associate with warmth and safety and home like this…
The Bamboo house feels cold in Shizun's memory.
Shizun stands there, at the entrance, not daring to take another step into such an unwelcoming place. It feels dark, suffocating, bleak. It feels like Shizun doesn't want to be in this place at all.
Finally, with another deep breath, Shizun steps into the house.
Luo Binghe doesn't know what to expect. In any normal circumstances, Shizun could have immediately gone to sleep after a long journey. Or he could have come to the study to write the report if he weren't tired. But what can Shizun do when his house feels so foreign to him?
Despite having no expectations, Shizun manages to surprise him.
Because Shizun does none of the expected things. Instead, he almost runs through the house, to the door leading to the back garden, right to the…
Ah
That’s when this memory takes place.
Luo Binghe and Shizun both stand before the sword mound.
Shen Qingqiu is the first one to move. He slowly takes his first steps, approaching it carefully. Almost immediately he picks up the pace and rushes to the mound and drops before it to his knees, making Binghe wince.
Luo Binghe feels a little bit foolish. He has buried the memories of the Abyss so deep inside him, it simply hasn't occurred to him.
Of course. When else could this memory have been taking place if not when Luo Binghe was in the Endless Abyss?
He takes in the picture in front of him. Shizun coming to Qing Jing Peak in the middle of the night, ignoring food, or sleep, or any comfort, dropping to his knees to sit in front of the grave.
Slowly he approaches it.
He has never seen the sword mound. He has heard of it from Ning Yingying. But by that time it was already destroyed for his sin of leading Shen Qingqiu to his death and then stealing his body.
The sword mound looks clean… well cared for.
There is a weird feeling welling in Luo Binghe’s chest when he looks at it. If only he knew of it. When he came back from the Abyss, angry and heartbroken and lonely, if only he knew about it. If only he knew Shizun cared enough to keep his sword. If only he knew Shizun mourned him. If only he knew Shizun was just as heartbroken as he was.
If I had known it, Luo Binghe thinks, would it have changed anything? Would it have spared them all the pain they had to endure? Would it have given them a kinder fate?
The thought is too painful. Luo Binghe can't bear to look at the sword mound anymore. He turns to look at his husband instead.
It is a mistake.
There is a hollow look on his husband's face, completely devoid of emotion. Luo Binghe doesn't see this face often, but no matter how many years pass, it always makes him feel cold all over. His heart is beating in his chest with violent speed, and he finds it hard to breathe.
In moments like this he feels like he is 17 again. He is standing at the edge of the Abyss again, he is being held at the sword point again, Shen is looking right trough him again, Shizun is going to abandon him again.
For the moment Luo Binghe feels like he is going to wake up from the fear.
And then nothing happens.
Shizun doesn't cast him away. They are at Qing Jing. There is no roaring of the Endless Abyss.
This is not real. This is a memory. Shizun can't see him.
Shen Qingqiu doesn't cast Luo Binghe out.
He just… sits there.
Slowly Luo Binghe's heart calms down to a reasonable speed, although he still feels like he can't get enough air in his lungs. But he can actually look at Shen Qingqiu now. And he looks… even worse than before.
He still looks tired, but somehow the signs of weariness disappeared. It’s as if Shen Qingqiu has finally found the place to rest, a place to calm his mind. Except now, instead of weariness, instead of deep-seated sadness, there is… nothing.
Just nothing.
Shizun looks like a statue carved out of jade. Like a husk of a person, sitting there motionless, not hearing and not feeling anything.
Luo Binghe feels sick.
He doesn't stand up. Neither does Shizun.
Luo Binghe doesn't know how long they end up sitting there.
Time flows weird in the memory. Luo Binghe notices shadows getting shorter, but he himself doesn't feel the passage of time. He feels as if the shichens have passed, and yet at the same time it feels as if no time has passed at all.
Another thing he notices is the complete lack of sound. Everything in this memory is shaped by Shizun's perception. And at that time he hadn't paid attention to anything. Luo Binghe should be hearing the rustling of bamboo, the wind chimes, the sounds of disciples from far away. And yet there is nothing. All Luo Binghe can hear is a low hum. It reminds him of the sound of an empty dreamscape.
Luo Binghe could have called Shizun’s state ‘a very deep meditation‘. But it feels too wrong to call it that way. It feels wrong to call it anything.
The weather seems to match Shizun's mood. The sun doesn't bathe the earth with its light, coloring every surface with warm yellow. Instead, everything in the memory looks gray and washed out, like during bad weather.
They both get torn out of their trance by a loud, startled, "Shifu!” behind their backs.
There is a Ming Fan with a broom, looking as if he hasn't expected to see Shizun.
"Shifu, you are back!”, he stammers awkwardly. Then, remembering his manners, he bows. "This disciple greets Shifu!”
"Good morning, Ming Fan," Shizun answers in a low, hollow voice.
For some reason this makes Ming Fan give him an uncertain look. "When did Shifu come back? This disciple has missed your return."
"This master returned early in the morning, when everyone was asleep," he answers calmly.
Ming Fan's face makes a weird expression. "Shifu… it’s the middle of the day," he trails off.
Shen Qingqiu blinks in surprise. "Is it?" he asks. Then he raises his head and looks at the sky. Luo Binghe does the same thing.
The sun is in its highest spot. It's blazing. Not that he is paying attention, Luo Binghe notices the flush and the small sweat beads at Ming Fan's temples. He realizes that it must be very hot. And yet there is no echo of the warmth in this memory. Luo Binghe has even assumed that the weather was bad.
He also realizes that Shizun has felt none of it in that moment. All he saw was grayness instead of a peak drowned in the rays of sunshine.
Ming Fan leaves without any more words.
Shizun keeps kneeling before the mound. Luo Binghe doesn't go anywhere.
The next one to visit Shen Qingqiu is Ning-shijie. She comes not so long after Ming Fan, holding a food tray.
"Shizun, you are back!" she exclaims with a bright smile.
"Hello, Ning Yingying," Shizun answers with the subtle upturn of his lips.
Both their smiles look fake.
"This disciple has brought Shizun a late breakfast!"
"Thank you, Ning Yingying, but this master isn't hungry."
Ning-shijie's cheerful mask almost entirely cracks at those simple words. Then she puts it back again.
"But Shizun had such a long journey! He must be so tired!" she pouts at him. It looks painfully exaggerated.
"Ning Yingying, I really-" Shizun starts.
"I can leave you the food!" she interrupts him, "Shizun might not be hungry now, but he might be later!" She puts the tray near him.
Shizun just signs in defeat, "Alright, Ning Yingying."
Ning Yingying lights up like a sun, and this time her expression looks genuine.
She leaves.
Shizun doesn't pay attention to the food, letting it grow cold and slightly dried out.
At some point he actually looks at it as if contemplating eating it.
Luo Binghe, for all his ever-present jealousy, perks up. He has never thought he could get excited by the prospect of Shizun eating someone else’s food.
He brings up his hand to reach the tray. But then it freezes midair.
His hollow expression shifts: his face pales and his eyebrows draw together as if he is feeling nauseous. He takes a deep breath and pushes the tray further away from him.
Luo Binghe can only look in helpless confusion.
Shen Qingqiu keeps kneeling. Luo Binghe doesn't go anywhere.
The sun moves further down the sky when Luo Binghe hears the voice that could only belong to the most annoying person in the whole world.
"Shen Qingqiu," shouts Liu Qingge, and Luo Binghe hears the sound of the door being roughly opened.
When Liu Qingge barges into the garden, Shen Qingqiu actually somewhat lights up. "Hello, Shidi," he says with a tiny, but this time more sincere, smile. "Is it already time to check my meridians?"
Liu Qingge gives Shizun a disapproving look. "Did you kneel there the whole day again? Your disciple told me you came back at night."
Shizun's face gets contorted by the annoyance. He silently mouths something that Binghe assumes could only be 'goddamn it, Ming Fan,' but he doesn't say anything else.
Liu Qingge purses his lips and frowns. Then he takes a deep, heavy breath, closes his eyes, and stretches out his hand to help Shen Qingqiu stand up. Turns out Shizun really needs this help, because the moment he gets to his feet, they almost buckle down underneath him. He hisses from the pain. His legs must have fallen asleep after so much sitting on his knees.
Liu Qingge looks with no particular interest, as if he has seen such a scene many times. He does blush when he glances at their hands. He leads them both inside the Bamboo house. Luo Binghe follows them.
Liu Qingge leads Shen Qingqiu to the low table, the usual place where they used to clean Shizun's meridians.
The atmosphere is awkward. Shen Qingqiu doesn't say anything, just stares into empty space. When Liu Qingge tries to ask questions, he answers with short, curt sentences. He asks him about his mission, what he has done, what he has seen. When Shizun answers, there is no passion in his voice. Not a word about something he found interesting, or impressive, or cute, or annoying, or inspiring. His story is dry like a report. Then they both fall silent again.
“I am going on a mission tomorrow. Do y-“
“Yes,“ Shizun interrupts.
“You don't even know where I am going,“ Liu Qingge says disapprovingly.
Shizun just shrugs, “It's better than sitting in this dusty place the whole day,“ Shizun says simply.
The house is not dusty.
Liu Qingge looks at Shizun with a complicated expression but says nothing.
They don't chat, or drink tee, or do anything else.
When Liu Qingge stands up to leave, all he says is, “Get some rest,“ before he is gone.
Shizun stays at the same place for some time, staring into space, rubbing his fingertips together.
The shadows in the corners of the house grow darker.
He stands up and goes back to the back garden, back to the sword mound. The sun is slowly setting.
Shizun is sitting with this empty look. Again.
Luo Binghe's heart breaks.
Luo Binghe knew that Shizun had mourned him. He heard it from Ning-shijie. He heard it from Liu Qingge. He heard it in rumors. He heard it from strangers talking about an Immortal Master who lost his soul from grief. He heard it from Shang Qinghua. He heard it from Shizun, his husband, Shen Yuan himself.
Luo Binghe already knew all that.
It's just…
It's almost as if Luo Binghe didn't understand what it meant, that Shizun mourned him.
Shizun always seemed so strong, so large, so untouchable. Even when he knew him as a man, when he married him, Shizun always hid his emotions.
He always assumed that his mourning would be the same. He assumed that Shizun hid his pain, but people closest to him knew the signs of his pain. He never expected he would be so obvious in his grief, that he would be so heartbroken he wouldn't even be able to hide it.
Luo Binghe feels tears pricking in his eyes.
He never expected to say something like this about Shizun, but like this he looks so… so pitiful.
Sitting there all day, not eating or sleeping, running from his own house at every opportunity. Mourning his disciple, who he knows is actually alive, waiting for his return, fearing death every day and yet feeling like he should be punished.
Luo Binghe wants to weep. He wants to gather up this younger version of his husband in his arms and hug him. He wants to look him in the eyes and tell him that everything is going to be fine.
“I-its alright, Shizun,“ for the first time in this dream Luo Binghe talks aloud, “It's alright. Everything will be fine. Your Binghe doesn't hate you, he doesn't want a revenge. He is just angry and hurt. You can just apologize, and he will forgive you. He will always forgive you.“ He sobs. “It's alright, Shizun. Your Binghe loves you. Your Binghe will always love you.“
He reaches his hand to touch Shizun's face, and it goes right through it. His whole body spasms in pain, and he cries.
When he calms down, Shizun is still sitting there.
Luo Binghe crawls closer to him until they could almost touch.
Like this, they both sit, and they both wait.
Luo Binghe wakes up with tear tracks on his cheeks. The ceiling is familiar. Warm and welcoming.
Shizun is tucked into his side. Except this time there is no empty look on his face. He looks bleary and a bit confused, pouting slightly as if annoyed by his own confusion.
“I think I had a weird dream,“ he slurs, not woken up from his sleep yet.
“Oh?“ Luo Binghe prompts. He knows Shizun probably doesn't remember. People usually don’t remember dreams like this.
As expected, Shizun thinks for a moment and then signs, “Don’t remember.“
He looks so affronted by this fact Luo Binghe can't help the smile blooming on his face.
Shen Qingqiu gives Binghe a look. Then he rises on his elbows to crawl on top of Luo Binghe.
“S-shizun?” He stammers from this uncharacteristic boldness.
“Do you mind?” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep,“For some reason I feel like I really missed you.”
Luo Binghe's heart squeezes in his chest. He hugs his husband's waist and brings him closer, like he wants to meld their bodies together.
“I missed you too…"