Chapter Text
It has been a decade since Shen Yuan has seen daylight. It seems kind of tragic, actually, when he puts it that way, but it’s not so bad. He actually quite likes it.
He’d chosen to jump into the Endless Abyss. He’d chosen to live like this until Luo Binghe eventually wandered into the rift between realms.
He’d come fully prepared to fight tooth and nail to survive, had spent five years gathering knowledge and gaining B-points so that he would survive in the treacherous place.
Shen Yuan had gotten lucky; the body he’d been shoved into was extremely powerful, a retired peak lord that was originally meant to participate in a great battle with Luo Binghe but was never used, discarded in favor of more papapa plots.
Unfortunately, all his grinding had turned out to be… largely unnecessary. Sure , the beasts in the Endless Abyss were terrifying and extremely dangerous, but they were still just beings- still creatures, who yearned for affection and craved comfort.
Shen Yuan had learned, very quickly, that all it took to subdue most of the demons that rampaged the lands was a gentle hand and a thoughtful offering.
It was, surprisingly enough, the same for the plants; demonic plants were well-known to be semi-sentient, so when he watered them and set up light talismans and carefully fed them scraps, they recognized him as good .
He had planted a whole garden of the things, some vibrant and others dull, some acidic and others poisonous, all roiling with demonic energy- and none of them ever hurt him, unless it was by accident.
It was nice, to learn that even in the cruel world of PIDW, even in this cold realm of ruthlessness, kindness found a way to exist.
Shen Yuan had also, maybe, a little bit, planted and cared for an entire forest of bamboo and literally any other plant that could grow in the Abyss, only to fill it with domesticated beasts. It was dense and dark, filled with all the monsters that Shen Yuan had longed to see and examine in person when he’d first read the novel. He’d planted it right behind his house, next to his garden, all enclosed in the most powerful protective array he had ever created.
It was maybe, a little bit, home , the bamboo hut with its wooden floors and the endless books scattered inside it.
Anyway, that’s not the point- the point is, it has been a decade since Shen Yuan has seen daylight, and it has been a decade since he could properly tell the passage of time.
In his defense, he really did try to mark down each passing day, but it was hard. Shen Yuan has always been an obsessive person, the kind to dive headfirst into whatever sparked interest and let it consume him until he could think of nothing else. Now that he doesn’t need to eat or sleep, days pass him by in the blink of an eye, and time slips between his fingers like sand.
Any supplies he needs, he can just buy from the System; gaining knowledge about the world and inventing has earned him enough points to comfortably afford most things he wants.
Unfortunately, when it comes down to it, the system is utterly useless (That is a lie. It is very useful in that he can buy basically anything from it for a high enough price, but that is about it.), so it doesn’t even inform him that today is the day of the Immortal Alliance Conference .
The thing he has been waiting fifteen years for.
Shen Yuan only finds out about it when the entirety of his house starts to rumble, the sounds of fleeing animals loud in the background.
Oh, he thinks, his eyes widening, the Endless Abyss is opening.
Fuck , he’d thought he had another month at the very least.
Cursing under his breath, Shen Yuan hurriedly changes into robes, tacking illusion talismans and presence-hiding talismans and demonic-energy-creating talismans onto the innermost layer. He had a lot of talismans.
Sue him, they were useful! They were also really fun to invent! And they got him tons of points!
<Hello, dearest host! Mission {Light at the end of the tunnel} has begun! It is a mandatory mission. Mission failure will result in account termination. Please do your best, Host! o(^▽^)o >
“Wow,” Shen Yuan says sarcastically, tying the final layers of his robes, “Thanks for telling me so early, system. Now I’ll have time to prepare for the mission that’s going to decide whether I live or not!”
<System apologizes, but host did not ask to be notified o(´^｀)o >
Shen Yuan rolls his eyes.
“Of course,” he grumbles. Before the system can argue more, he decisively says, “Tell me the mission objectives, and how many B-points I have.”
Finally finished dressing, Shen Yuan hurries out of his home, stepping into his transportation array as he listens to the system give a report.
<Mission Objectives: Prevent the blackening level of Luo Binghe from reaching 100%, increase protagonist satisfaction points, obtain 10,000 happiness points. Total B-Points: 25,210>
“Happiness points?” Shen Yuan asks as he is teleported to a hidden cave near the opening of the Endless Abyss. Setting a brusque pace, he heads towards the source of commotion.
<Host will be awarded happiness points for making Luo Binghe happy.>
… Okay, he should’ve guessed that-
He is distracted from his train of thought when he sees it, when he sees him - the man he’s been waiting 15 years for, the center of this universe- Luo Binghe.
The first glimpse is… not as grand as Shen Yuan thought it would be. Luo Binghe’s body is limp where it lies on the freezing stone floor of the Endless Abyss, his clothes torn and bloody. Demonic energy rolls off him in powerful waves, keeping the circle of spectators around him at bay. He looks nothing like an all-powerful protagonist.
In fact, all Shen Yuan can see is someone that needs help .
He pushes his way through the small gathering of demons into the center, standing defensively in front of Luo Binghe.
“Scram,” he says, his voice cold and hard from extensive practice. He bares his teeth, made sharp by his illusion, in a snarl.
When they catch sight of him, the ones capable of speech begin to whisper.
Great demon Yuan , he hears, and resists the urge to roll his eyes. Apparently, placating a few beasts and earning the favor of a few violent plants was enough to garner him a fearsome reputation.
Okay, well, maybe he’d also fought some mediocre demons and won. And maybe he’d subdued the reigning demon tyrant because he’d tried to take away Shen Yuan’s metal-wooled sheep. And maybe he’d accidentally opened a spacial rift to a vacuum on accident. Twice.
It still wasn’t enough to warrant the rumors!
Either way, it seems to work in his favor; when the demons hear of who he is, most of them flee.
As for those who don’t, well, Shen Yuan just waves his hand and sends a blast of qi their way.
Finally, he is left alone with the dirty, broken body of a teenage Luo Binghe. Shen Yuan kneels next to him, carefully turning his body around a little bit and then looping his arms underneath Luo Binghe’s neck and knees. He lifts the boy in a gentle bridal carry, knowing it will be the best way to avoid jostling any of his injuries.
He is, of course, breathtaking, even covered in dirt and blood. His eyelashes are long and dark, brushing against rosy cheeks. His lips are parted a little, full and pink as cherry blossoms. His skin glows even in the dim lighting of the Abyss, bathed in red light from his demon mark, perfectly smooth save for the furrow between his eyebrows.
Luo Binghe is every bit as ethereal as he was described to be, and Shen Yuan can’t help but stare, eyes tracing over the curve of his jaw and the slope of his nose. Shen Yuan couldn’t be blamed for it, okay?! This was the protagonist . The most attractive man in all the realms. His charms were irresistible! Even a perfectly straight man like Shen Yuan wasn’t immune to his beauty!
He snaps himself out of it fairly quickly, remembering that the boy is seventeen and teetering on the edge of death when his eyes fall on bruises peeking from the edges of robes dyed red.
Despite his large stature, the boy is light, as if he hasn’t eaten for days.
Ah, Shen Yuan realizes, with how Qing Jing Peak was to him… he probably hasn’t.
Protectiveness unfurls in his chest with anger, and he pulls Luo Binghe a little closer to his chest. Luo Binghe’s eyes flutter open at the action, staring at him hazily, uncomprehending. Seemingly instinctively, his hands wrap around the fabric of Shen Yuan’s clothes, clutching them tightly.
“Shh,” Shen Yuan says soothingly, giving the boy in his arms a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, I’ll take care of you. You can rest.”
Perhaps because of his exhaustion, or how emotionally challenging the day has undoubtedly been, or how clouded his mind is by the power of his demonic qi, Luo Binghe doesn’t protest at all.
Instead, he just shifts his head against Shen Yuan’s shoulder, pressing further into the hold, and lets his eyes slip closed again.
------------------
Luo Binghe wakes up to softness and warmth, and immediately assumes he’s in a dream. He is not allowed good things, not in reality.
He blinks his eyes open, his body heavy and pliant in its relaxation. There is a dull ache in his left arm, a throb in his right leg, and alarm fills Binghe as he feels it.
… He’s not supposed to be able to feel injuries in his dreams.
With great reluctance, he sits up, the blanket tucked around him falling away, and surveys the room he’s in.
It’s quite nice, with lanterns that glow yellow and fill the place with soft light, floors strewn with pillows and books and a desk so messy he can barely see the wood of it. His eyes stop as a figure walks in, lean and tall, draped in a simple white robe.
“Oh,” the man says, walking closer to the bed Binghe lies in, “You’re awake.”
Binghe freezes, a hazy memory coming to the forefront of his mind. He remembers a pretty face, a warm embrace, a kind smile and kinder eyes. A soft voice saying "I'll take care of you." He thought- he thought that was a dream, or maybe a hallucination. Something his mind made up to help stay sane at his lowest moments.
Was this a hallucination? Was he so pathetic that his mind had conjured up this angelic person in its desperacy for kindness?
Then the man smiles at him, his forest-green eyes crinkling at the corners, just as kind and beautiful as Binghe remembers, and he very quickly decides that if this is a hallucination, he is completely fine with that.
As long as he gets to keep seeing that smile.
(It makes him feel so warm , like the blankets, like this room, like his mother’s hugs. Like everything Binghe has ever wanted.)
The man makes his way over to the bed, gently pushing the bowl in his slender hands into Binghe’s.
“Here, eat.”
Binghe stares down at the soupy congee, topped with some odd kind of meat and greens he’s never seen before.
The man rubs the back of his neck sheepishly when Binghe looks back up at him, uncomprehending. “I know it doesn’t look very good, I’m sorry, I’m not a very good cook and it’s… a little hard to find edible things in the Abyss…”
Then, his eyes seem to harden a little. “But you should still eat! You need energy to heal properly, and I promise none of it is poisonous. I tested!”
Binghe looks down at the congee again, and feels tears well up in his eyes. Ah. He’s not supposed to cry. Crying is for weak children who get beaten up and can’t get their mothers their dying wish. Crying is for dumb disciples who get hot tea poured on them. He’s not supposed to cry.
A tear drips onto his shaking hands.
He can’t hold it back. He’s- he’s tired , and so confused, and so overwhelmed . He’s half-demon. Shizun pushed him into the Endless Abyss. He can't go back to Cang Qiong anymore. Someone cooked for him.
No one has cared enough to cook for him since his mother died.
He laughs wetly.
Yeah, this was definitely a hallucination.
The tears fall, one after the other, as Binghe clutches the bowl of congee close to his chest, feeling the warmth of it bleed into his trembling fingers. How was that possible? What awful kind of hallucination felt so real?
Binghe did not want to wake up from it.
Ever.
“Ah!” The man says, a note of panic in his smooth voice, “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Do you really hate the idea of eating it so much?!”
“No,” Binghe says, “No, benefactor, this lowly one would be honored to eat this congee. It has just been a long, long time since someone has cooked for this one.”
Binghe stares at the bowl with blurry eyes, hearing a sharp intake of breath. Then, a warm hand (so, so warm) settles on his head, making Binghe turn sharply towards the man.
This is too kind, too good, even for a hallucination.
“Ah, please, don’t refer to me so highly. Drop the formal speech too, I’m not so important. My name is Shen Yuan.”
Quietly, Binghe tucks the name into his heart and vows never to forget it.
There is a quiet, meaningful pause as Shen Yuan strokes his hand over Binghe’s hair. His smile grows softer.
“And I will cook for you as long as you’d like.”
Binghe’s eyes fall shut. It does nothing to stop the tears.
His breath hitches in small, muffled sobs; Shen Yuan’s hand doesn’t leave his head, grounding him with its heavy weight.
“Thank you,” Binghe says, weak and exhausted and drained, when he finally finishes crying. Shen Yuan retracts his hand, and Binghe sorely misses it the moment it's gone. Really, he can’t keep the contact a little longer, even in a dream?
“No need, no need.” Shen Yuan nudges the bowl of congee. “You should eat. I left a heating talisman on it, so it’s still warm. I’ll get you some medicine.”
Shen Yuan walks away. Absurdly, Binghe wants to call him back, even though he knows he’s just going to be gone for a bit.
Instead of that, Binghe picks up his spoon and carefully places some congee in his mouth. True to Shen Yuan’s word, the food is still warm, though not particularly flavorful. It’s a little overcooked; the meat is chewier than anything Binghe has ever had before, and the greens are ridiculously bitter.
It’s the best meal Binghe has had since his mother died, because Shen Yuan cooked it. For him. Someone cooked for him.
… It can’t be real, can it? There’s no way.
But the food settles in his stomach and flavors sit on his tongue; his feet are warm under the blanket and the fabric against his skin is soft.
It feels real. It feels too real.
Meng Mo, he calls hesitantly inside his mind, is this a dream?
After a second, an answer comes. No, Meng Mo replies.
A hallucination, then?
No.
Then what is it?
Kid, this is reality.
Binghe stops. There is no way. Binghe knows the world, knows his life, knows his luck; someone as kind and good as Shen Yuan cannot possibly exist. Even if he did, there is no way Binghe would have the luck of meeting him.
That’s not possible.
If this was a hallucination, you wouldn’t be able to taste the food.
Then what of Shen Yuan? He can’t possibly be real.
Shen Yuan?
Binghe conjures up the image of Shen Yuan inside his mind, just for a split second, and then vanishes it again. He feels… oddly possessive over the pretty visage of Shen Yuan smiling.
Chill, kid, I’m not interested in men anyway. Keep him if you want. He’s real, though- minds can’t create faces from nothing. Every face in your dreamscape, even those that seem random, is one that you’ve seen before. I think you would remember, if you had met this precious Shen Yuan of yours before.
And you’re certain this is real? Binghe asks, a tendril of hope, of awe, growing in his beaten, shriveled little heart.
Quite.
Shen Yuan walks back in, smiling as he holds a cup in his hand. “Sorry I took a while, I had to prepare the powder into a tea.”
This time, Binghe surveys the smile with wonder, cataloging each curve, each wrinkle inside his head. Just in case it’s not real. Just in case there comes a day where he can’t see it anymore.
Shen Yuan’s eyes are so kind , and Binghe can’t repress a shudder as he realizes oh, there is someone, someone real, who is kind to me. He sits there, frozen, and lets the thought settle into his brain like a little worm, biting a hole through the thick cloud of not-worth-good that has lived in his brain for a decade and then some.
Then, he smiles back, bright and unrestrained.
----------
When Binghe wakes up the second time, he’s still wrapped in warm blankets, still lying on soft pillows.
It’s really not a dream.
He sits up quietly, marveling at how little his wounds hurt. He hasn’t been this free of pain since… ever, actually.
His eyes wander, taking in the little details he’d missed the first time he’d surveyed his surroundings. There are odd things, now that he really looks.
Curtains of deep blue are drawn over what Binghe assumes is a window. A pot of innocuous silver flowers sits in front of it, and when Binghe squints, he realizes they’re releasing some kind of powder into the air, barely visible aside from the slight shimmer that occurs every few minutes.
For a second, Binghe’s hackles rise, before he realizes that this is most likely Shen Yuan’s room; there wouldn’t be anything harmful diffused into the air if Shen Yuan was also spending time here.
He relaxes again. The air smells fresh, like a field of grass after a cool rain. Binghe wonders if it’s the work of the flowers. There’s no demonic qi in the room, nothing to indicate that they’re still in the Endless Abyss.
There are odd papers stuck to the walls; messy paintings of beasts, of plants, of places, pages of elegant writing in a language that Binghe has never seen before. A strange, circular thing made of metal rests on the papers of Shen Yuan’s desk. A quiet ticking comes from it, each sound in perfect time with the movement of a stick inside it. It has twelve markings; Binghe isn’t sure that they are.
It’s strange. It’s very, very strange .
Binghe wonders, with trickling fear and, embarrassingly, a bit (okay, more than a bit-) of excitement, who exactly Shen Yuan is.
Naturally, this thought seems to summon the man, who comes barreling into the room right behind a streak of navy blue that pounces on Binghe faster than he can react.
“A-mei, no!” Shen Yuan says as a heavy weight makes itself known on Binghe’s chest. Binghe startles, nearly throwing it off, but it clutches tight, claws digging into Binghe’s robes until he finally settles again.
…It’s a cat. Well, not exactly. The thing’s eyes are too intelligent, its claws too sharp, to be a regular cat. Its pelt is too vivid, too blue, the exact same shade as its eyes. Its pupils are white. It looks up at Binghe with something close to contempt, judgment clear on its face as it bares its too-pointy teeth.
At first, Binghe thinks the odd little details are just mutations caused by being in the Endless Abyss for too long. Then, he looks a little closer at the white mark on its forehead and feels goosebumps raise on his skin as he realizes it's a demon mark .
Suddenly, the pointy little claws held above his heart, digging into skin just little enough that it doesn’t bleed, feel like much more of a threat.
Then Shen Yuan comes over, places his hands between the thing’s armpits and pulls it off of Binghe. The claws retract the moment Shen Yuan touches it, all the malice- and, Binghe suddenly notices, demonic energy- vanishing in a single second.
The thing blinks at Shen Yuan with wide, glimmery eyes, a perfect picture of innocence. Binghe’s head is reeling.
What the fuck .
“Lanmei,” Shen Yuan scolds, and Binghe would’ve snorted at the name if he could bring himself to do anything other than stare. Blueberry . How cute.
“What did I say about attacking things without permission?”
The thing- Lanmei- just blinks again, letting out a pitiful meow. “No, nuh-uh, you’re not getting out of this just by being cute. Look at the poor boy, you’ve scared him out of his wits!”
Binghe, following Lanmei’s lead, just blinks when Shen Yuan looks at him. Shen Yuan turns back to the thing with an I-told-you-so look on his face. Binghe finds it hopelessly endearing.
Lanmei lets out another sad mewl, leaning forward to lick Shen Yuan’s cheek, and the man crumples like wet paper, all traces of irritation disappearing to leave only fondness.
The cat-thing paws at Shen Yuan’s shoulder, so he sets it down there. It curls its lithe body around the man’s thin shoulders, its head tilted as it very attentively watches Binghe, tail swishing languidly in the air.
Shen Yuan sighs.
“Sorry about her,” he says, sounding genuinely apologetic, “A-mei can’t stand anything stronger than her existing in my vicinity.”
“...She has a demon mark,” Binghe manages, finally. He supposes this explains why Shen Yuan doesn’t seem to care about the very obvious demon mark on Binghe’s own forehead.
“Oh!” Shen Yuan says, perking up. “She does! She’s a Heavenly Demon’s Companion. I found her wandering the Abyss all battered and bruised. She was so dirty I didn’t even realize what species she was until I brought her home and cleaned her up. Isn’t she adorable? ”
Shen Yuan then coos as he gently pets the thing on his shoulder.
It nudges into his hand and purrs.
Binghe desperately wants to scream. ADORABLE?! The Heavenly Demon’s Companions, if he remembers correctly, are some of the oldest and most dangerous creatures in existence. They were born from pieces of the first Heavenly demon’s soul. They take the unassuming form of regular cats to draw in hunters trying to kill it for their soft pelt, then grow to fifty times its size and devour them. Their pelts are invincible; their claws sharp enough to pierce obsidian. Their teeth contain a paralytic strong enough to keep down even an immortal. A single bite is all it takes to inject it.
Aha. He’s going to die, isn’t he?
The companion clearly hates him. The companion is currently nuzzling Shen Yuan’s cheek while it side-eyes him.
… The last companion was supposed to go into hibernation after the death of the first heavenly demon’s grandson.
“My darling little A-mei,” Shen Yuan croons sweetly, smiling at the little thing, and wow Binghe did not know he could get jealous of a demonic beast until now. He wants to be Shen Yuan’s darling little A-Bing.
His face heats up as he entertains the thought, imagines nuzzling into the pale skin of Shen Yuan’s round cheeks, imagines being called A-Bing . Wow. Yeah. That.
Even imagining it makes his brain functions shut down abruptly.
It is then that he realizes, holy shit, Shen Yuan still doesn’t know his name .
“Luo Binghe,” He says, probably too rushed to come off as normal. Shen Yuan looks at him, confused. “This lowly one’s name is Luo Binghe. He didn’t tell Shen-qianbei yet. Shen-qianbei can call this one Binghe.”
“Oh,” Shen Yuan says, clearly taken aback. Still, he offers Binghe a smile that makes his heart skip a beat. “Binghe, then. But please, this one isn’t your qianbei. You needn’t be so formal."
Binghe . Binghe. Binghe. Wow. His name sounds- really, really good in Shen Yuan’s ever-soft voice.
“How should I address you then?” His voice comes out oddly choked. Shen Yuan ignores it.
“Hmm,” Shen Yuan hums, tapping his chin. A teasing smile overtakes his face. “How about Yuan-ge , then, if you insist on calling me your senior?”
Binghe’s brain, for the third time in less than half a shichen, abruptly freezes.
“Yuan-ge,” he breathes, eyes blown wide. Lanmei hisses. Binghe can’t hear it over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.
Yuan-ge, repeats in his head, his thoughts wholly overtaken by a single name. Wow. Is he dying? He thinks he might be dying. He thinks his face is hot enough that its color probably rivals that of marriage robes. How would Shen Yuan- Yuan-ge- look in marriage red? He kind of wants to see that. Is he moving too fast? He's not, right? This is a commitment. Shen Yuan is his gege now. Binghe is never ever letting this go ever.
(Shen Yuan’s face twitches in surprise as he gains 500 happiness points. He was only teasing, but he's not going to take it back after that.
Aww, he thinks, Poor Binghe must be happy that someone is letting him address them so familiarly. )
When Binghe eventually recollects himself a little bit, his first thought is Take that, Lanmei, and he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed about the triumph he feels.
Yuan-ge settles on a stool near the bed, moving Lanmei into his lap. His hand moves up and down the creature’s body, occasionally stopping to scratch and rub, and Binghe is immediately jealous again. “A-mei, go check on the shark-toothed deer for me, please. Come get me if there’s trouble.”
Lanmei meows, nudging her head into Yuan-ge’s palm.
“Yes, yes, I’ll give you all the pets you want later. One of the deer is pregnant, though, so she’s being particularly aggressive. We don’t want her to accidentally destroy my forest, now do we?”
Yuan-ge speaks so softly , so kindly . Binghe wonders how someone so good can exist. He also wonders why Yuan-ge has shark-toothed deer in his forest. Aren’t they poisonous? And twice the size of regular deer?? And prone to destruction at the slightest provocation???
Binghe is very confused. Binghe is very much in awe. Is Shen Yuan a god? That might make sense. Actually, that would make perfect sense. Yuan-ge is certainly pretty enough to be a god.
Lanmei huffs at the words, but does actually obey. She gives Binghe a particularly smug look before she leaps off of Yuan-ge’s lap and darts away.
Is he competing for Yuan-ge’s attention with a particularly powerful cat now? Is that a thing? He won’t lose. He’ll make Lanmei regret the day she challenged him. Yuan-ge’s lap and pets will be his . Soon. Hopefully.
Then Yuan-ge turns his attention to him, letting a smile grace his plump, pretty, very kissable lips, and Binghe decides that this is already more than enough.
“How are you feeling?” Yuan-ge asks.
“Fine,” Binghe answers. “Better with Yuan-ge here.”
Yuan-ge laughs lightly. “Such a flatterer. Save those skills for the women you want to woo, Binghe, and tell me genuinely if you are still hurt anywhere.”
Binghe wants to tell him that literally no woman could ever compare to him, that Yuan-ge’s smile is worth more to him than anything any girl could give him, that the one he wants to woo is Yuan-ge, but he figures that would be a bit much. He's only known the man for... what is it, two days? One?
“I’m alright, Yuan-ge. This is the least pain I’ve felt in a long while.”
Something akin to sadness flashes on Yuan-ge’s soft features. Too good, Binghe thinks.
“You shouldn’t have to feel any pain at all,” Yuan-ge says, quietly, mournfully.
Against his will, Binghe’s eyes fill up with tears. Too good.
Silence hangs heavy between them. Binghe wrestles his emotions back in check, and offers a weak smile. “It’s only minor. I’ll heal. It’ll be gone within a day, I bet.”
Yuan-ge sighs, but accepts the deflection and moves past the topic.
“Then, will you return to the human realm?” Yuan-ge asks, and Binghe hears the expectancy in his voice. His heart sinks a little, knowing that Yuan-ge wants him to leave.
Initially, when he’d been laying on the ground, his body broken and his mind in a state of disarray, he’d wanted to go back, had burned to go back. He’d thought, I’ll survive. I’ll get stronger, I’ll survive, I’ll get out of here and I’ll tear the world apart. I’ll go back and I’ll tear Shizun apart limb from limb, so that he feels what I feel. I’ll go back and I’ll burn down everything that has ever hurt me and I’ll prove that I’m strong.
Admittedly, his thoughts had been more scrambled and bloody than that, but they were hazy, now. That had been the general gist of it.
Only two days later, the conviction and hatred he had thought to be branded into him were melting away, like a false skin.
What waited for him in the human realm but hurt? What would revenge bring him except maybe some sick satisfaction? Even if he proves he’s strong- will it bring him happiness? Will it bring him warmth, like Yuan-ge does?
He still kind of wants revenge. He still hates his Shizun for never acknowledging him, right up to the end, still wants to destroy Cang Qiong for everything it has done to him.
But if he can have this instead- this little hut in the middle of nowhere, with bamboo walls and wooden floors and warm lighting and a warm person to keep him company- he can let it go.
He wants to hear Yuan-ge’s laughter much, much more than he wants to hear the screams of those who have hurt him.
“...Do I have to?”
Yuan-ge looks surprised, just for a second, before a radiant smile takes over his face. “Of course not! You can go wherever you like.”
“And if I want to stay here?” Binghe ventures, hesitant, eyes averted. Before Yuan-ge can reject him, he rushes to explain his worth. “I don’t know if I can help with your deer but I can cook! And clean! I can read and write too, a little bit, and I can hunt smaller creatures!”
“Ah, Binghe, you don’t have to do anything, I wasn’t going to say no. You can stay, if you’d like.”
Finally, Binghe looks up, and sees easy acceptance on Yuan-ge’s face.
“Really?”
“Of course. Some company would be nice, honestly. It gets lonely around here, even with A-mei.”
Take that, Lanmei, Binghe thinks again, before immediately making a vow to himself to never let Yuan-ge be lonely again.
“Then I’ll always keep you company!” Binghe says excitedly, “I promise I’ll earn my place here, Yuan-ge!”
Yuan-ge shakes his head, looking amused. “What did I just say, huh? Binghe doesn’t have to earn anything. The place is already his to keep.”
Binghe stares at Yuan-ge, eyes shining. Yuan-ge is the best thing to ever happen to him. Yuan-ge is so good , so kind , and Binghe will never let anything taint that.
Now that he has a place by Yuan-ge’s side, where he can protect him, the man will never suffer again. He guarantees it.
Yuan-ge leans back a little, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Though, I suppose I will have to make a trip to the human realm… I don’t have anywhere near enough supplies to support a second human for long. I don’t even have another bed!”
We can share, sits right at the tip of Binghe’s tongue. He swallows it down.
“I’ll come,” He says quickly.
“I thought you wanted to stay?”
Binghe nods vigorously. “En, I want to stay. I want to stay by Yuan-ge's side.”
Binghe watches, with no small amount of awe, as Yuan-ge’s pretty, full cheeks pinken, his gaze averting from Binghe’s.
“Oh,” he says, quiet and obviously surprised. “Okay. I’d…” Yuan-ge’s eyes flick back up to his, and Binghe finds that he can’t look away from endless depths of soft green, from the kindness and genuinity that fills them. “I’d like that.”
Is Binghe in love? Binghe thinks he's in love. His heart is too full for this not to be love.
He thinks he wants it to be love. He wants to love this kind, pretty man who has saved him from the relentless suffering of his life.
(He wants to know that, even as a filthy demon, he can love this pure, pretty thing. If Lanmei can do it, surely he can too?)