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This is how it starts:

“I’ll be headed to Qing Jing Peak in a week,” Shen Qingqiu says off-handedly in between bites of breakfast.

This is not something that should come as a shock to Luo Binghe. It’s often that they have to spend time apart for some reason or the other, whether that be to stay in the tundras, or wherever he was, for another week to try and stop a civil war, or Shen Qingqiu accompanying Liu Qingge on one of his trips at his insistence. On shorter trips to Qing Jing, ones to do just some perfunctory paperwork instead of for leisure, Shen Qingqiu preferred to go alone, anyways.

Luo Binghe hadn’t outgrown his stickiness yet in the slightest, but Shen Qingqiu is at least able to stop him from running to where he was at the drop of a pin.

If Shen Qingqiu was any lesser man, he might have admitted that the days that sometimes prolonged into weeks of separation before he woke up to Luo Binghe’s breakfast again made him ... lonely.

Thankfully, Shen Qingqiu was not that man.

Regardless, the constant trips they took without the other make it all the more surprising when Shen Qingqiu’s announcement make Luo Binghe grab at Shen Qingqiu’s hands to tell him, “Shizun shouldn’t go alone.”

Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “You make it sound as though I’m walking into the mouths of a beast.”

Luo Binghe frowns. “It’s not that, Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu raises an eyebrow. He puts another bite of food into his mouth before saying anything else.

...He shouldn’t let it go to waste, alright?!

“Well,” he says after he swallows. “What is it then?”

Luo Binghe frowns suddenly. “It’s nothing.”

Sure it is. “Clearly it’s something.”

Luo Binghe doesn’t respond.

“Shizun won’t force you to say it if you don’t want to. But still, no need for Binghe to join me. I’ll only be a few days,” Shen Qingqiu reminds him. “I’m sure you have more important things to do here.”

Luo Binghe pouts.

Shen Qingqiu puts down his chopsticks to pat the top of Luo Binghe’s head, fingers lightly threading through his curls. “Don’t be upset. When I return, we can do something that Binghe wants to do.”

Luo Binghe, predictably, goes amiable at that. His posture straightens a little. “Anything?”

Shen Qingqiu watches Luo Binghe’s expression warily. “If it’s within my limits,” he says in the end. He pulls his hand back, and tries not to focus on how Luo Binghe makes an aborted motion to try to follow it.

Luo Binghe looks as though he is about to agree to the terms, ready to send Shen Qingqiu off like a maiden sending her husband off to war, when he says, “But I’d still like to go with Shizun.”

“I’m not saying no, but—”

“Does Shizun not want me to go?”

Shen Qingqiu sighs. “I didn’t say that. There is just no need for Binghe to go out of his way to do something that will upset him.”

“It’s not that,” Luo Binghe refutes again with a shake of his head. Quieter, he says, “If Shizun is there, I don’t mind.”

Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes at the statement, if only to hide the heat in his cheeks. Going alone was doing Luo Binghe a favor! “That’s not the same thing as being alright with going.”

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe says forlornly.

Shen Qingqiu cuts him off with a look. “I’m being serious,” he says sharply. “Not minding it and it not being difficult at all are two completely different things, and if Binghe is unable to see the difference, then it only proves my point that Binghe shouldn’t come at all.”

Luo Binghe bows his head. “This one understands,” he says, sounding wounded enough to make even Shen Qingqiu pause.

Shen Qingqiu knows what Luo Binghe is doing. He’s dealt with this unruly man for the better part of the last decade, if you consider being under the ground for half of that a form of ‘dealing’. He knows that the wetness in Luo Binghe’s eyes is a farce.

But still.

“If Luo Binghe insists on going, Shizun doesn’t particularly mind,” Shen Qingqiu offers, and picks up his tea to take a sip. It’s lukewarm by now, but despite that, It’s just the right amount of sweetness, he thinks, not too little to make the tea bitter, but not so much as to make his throat hurt from it. Even since Luo Binghe was a disciple, Shen Qingqiu has never had any complaints with it.

Not that Luo Binghe’s perfect cup of tea was the issue right now. “But,” Shen Qingqiu continues, ”There is no point if you will be unhappy as a result.”

Luo Binghe’s head snaps up. “I won’t be unhappy,” he says earnestly. “Shizun makes me the happiest.”

Shen Qingqiu picks up his fan from the table, and opens it to cover the lower half of his face, and raises his eyebrow. “And when did you become such a sweet talker?”

Luo Binghe reaches for Shen Qinqiu’s free hand. Shen Qingqiu lets him take it.

“I am for Shizun,” Luo Binghe says with a small smile. He brings Shen Qingqiu’s hand closer to hold in both of his.

Shen Qingqiu fans his face lightly. The summer heat really was too much in this room.

“I won’t be able to give you all my time if you go,” Shen Qingqiu warns. “I really am going just to answer some letters.”

“I believe Shizun,” Luo Binghe says. “But regardless, this one would like to accompany him. Shizun once said that he would follow me wherever I chose to go. The opposite is true as well.”

Shen Qingqiu looks away. “If there is something this important that Binghe must do, then I won’t waste my words anymore. But it goes without saying that should Binghe want to go home, regardless of what I am doing, then he should tell me immediately. If there truly comes a point where Binghe can not bear it any longer, then we will return home.”

Luo Binghe’s eyes shine. “Shizun!”

Shen Qingqiu puts his fan down. “Is the reason you need to go something dangerous?”

“No,” Luo Binghe says with a shake of his head.

Shen Qingqiu squints. “Is it dangerous?”

“No, not at all!”

Shen Qingqiu won’t lie; he’s curious about what Luo Binghe needs to do that he can’t tell him about. “If Binghe is certain,” Shen Qingqiu acquiesces. “If you finish what you need to do early enough, you can hang out with your friends.”

Luo Binghe shakes his head. “I don’t have friends there. I’ll stay with Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu nods. There’s no need to argue on that, even when Shen Qingqiu is sure that Luo Binghe has more than some modicum of familial emotion towards Ning Yingying “Alright. If that is what Binghe wishes.”

Luo Binghe returns the words with his own nod.

Shen Qingqiu pulls his hands back with one more pat on Luo Binghe’s head. “It’s settled then. We can discuss this more later if we must.”

“Alright, Shizun. Are you done eating? I’ll go put the dishes away.”

Shen Qingqiu hums. “Come back when you’re done. It would be shameful to let you start your day with your hair a mess like it is now. Shizun will brush it for you.”

Neither of them mention that Luo Binghe’s hair has been brushed since before Shen Qingqiu even opened his eyes.

Luo Binghe beams, like there is nothing else in the world he would rather be doing.

And, somewhere deep inside him, Shen Qingqiu is able to admit that he only knows how to read that look because he sees it enough in his own expression to see it in someone else’s.

But that’s neither here nor there.

—————

Truthfully, there is always something to be done when Shen Qingqiu makes his routine trips back to Qing Jing Peak.

It starts, as always, with his disciples, who are most definitely old enough to have outgrown such behavior, when they start tripping over themselves to greet him from the top of the mountain, their voices much too loud and excited to match with the grace and tranquility of the peak they’re on.

Ning Yingying is the first to greet them. “Shizun! A-Luo! Welcome back!”

Shen Qingqiu smiles. Ning Yingying seemed to only grow more into herself as she got older. Shen Qingqiu wonders if this is what it must be like to see your children grow up. “Have you been well?”

Ning Yingying nods. “Very well! The new disciples are doing well too. A-Luo, have you been too busy?”

“This one is fine. I’m glad shijie is doing well,” Luo Binghe answers with a smile of his own.

“Are you here for any specific reason?” Ning Yingying asks while she watches them towards the bamboo house.

“Just to do some work,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Nothing that will take more than a day or two.”

Ning Yingying nods. “Shizun and A-Luo probably can’t afford to stay longer, right?”

“We’ll arrange for a longer trip soon,” Luo Binghe says quickly.

Shen Qingqiu eyes him. We are? Then again, it’s not like Shen Qingqiu has any reason to be surprised. Luo Binghe has always crumbled easily in front of the girl that has quickly become his older sister.

“Ah, that’s great news!” Ning Yingying says, clapping her hands together.

It’s definitely news, Shen Qingqiu thinks.

The rest of the walk, Ning Yingying and Luo Binghe fill the silence with light conversation of how they spent the time between visits, and what brings A-Luo here with Shizun. Shen Qingqiu contents himself with the sound.

“Well, here we are,” Ning Yingying says, and the familiar sight of the bamboo house is just a few paces away.

“Seems we are,” Shen Qingqiu says. He pats her head. “Thank you for walking us all this way.

“It’s no problem for me, Shizun. It really is nice to see you both again.”

Shen Qingqiu watches her with no small amount of fondness. “We’ll make sure to visit more frequently.”

“Make sure of it, Shizun!” Ning Yingying says happily. “This one will take off then.” She bows to Shen Qingqiu, and gives another smile to Luo Binghe before she makes her way back down the path they came from.

After a moment, Shen Qingqiu turns to Luo Binghe. “No need to waste any time. Let’s go inside,” he says, starting to walk towards the entrance of their home.

“Yes, Shizun,” Luo Binghe says, and follows him in.

—————

A day or two at most, Shen Qingqiu had said to Ning Yingying. At most, his head!

It’s the third day of their visit already, and he is no closer to being done with his work than he was three days ago. Not that any of that is his fault.

On the first day they’re back, the rest of the peak lords insist on having a meeting for lord-knows-what, wanting to go over this and that now that “all of the peak lords are back on the mountain”, because for some reason Shang Qinghua had also decided to come back at the same time. It’s overall, a completely useless meeting, and leaves Shen Qingqiu with enough of a headache that all he’d done once he got back to his home was eat dinner with Luo Binghe and go right to sleep.

On the second day, none of the disciples want to leave him alone. The newer, younger ones awe over Luo Binghe, too scared to get close to him, but brave enough to gawk at him whenever he’s in their peripheral vision. The older ones clamor over themselves to show Shen Qingqiu their progress, waiting for their pat on the head before Shen Qingqiu finally manages to shoo them off to do something else.

Luo Binghe is particularly sulky over this one, so Shen Qingqiu also spends time to reassure his sticky disciple, which ends up taking much longer than he had hoped.

Honestly, Shen Qingqiu just wants a break! He wants to finish up some work, be greeted by his little hellions, and go home with his husband before the sun goes down! Is that too much to ask?

It’s ridiculous, in Shen Qingqiu’s opinion. So today, he refuses to get distracted. No peak lord meetings, no meeting with the disciples, nothing else that will get in his way. He eats Luo Binghe’s food, does work, and repeats.

It’s gotten late enough that the sun has passed its peak in the sky, the colors have shifted from a bright yellow to a deeper orange, when Shen Qingqiu finally pushes the papers in front of him away. He’s not done by a long shot, but a sizable dent was made at the very least.

Luo Binghe, who’s been quietly updating one of Qing Jing Peak library’s many bestiaries next to him, perks up. “Does Shizun require any snacks? Or perhaps tea? I’ll start making dinner soon.”

Shen Qingqiu makes a noise of agreement. “A break might be good,” he says.

“Shizun has worked hard,” Luo Binghe says. Curiously, he takes several papers, and puts it on top of the one he’s writing on before he gets up and disappears through the doorway and to the kitchen. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t comment on it.

Instead, he leans forward and rests his forehead on the papers. Knowing Luo Binghe can hear him is the only reason he doesn’t whine about the sheer amount of backlog he has to get through. He hasn’t even been gone for that long! It’s been, what, a few weeks at most? A month or two? Shen Qingqiu lifts his head. Nevermind. But still, couldn’t Ming Fan have handled some of this? Why leave it for this old man?

If his work somehow still isn’t completed by tomorrow, Shen Qingqiu resolves to ask Ming Fan himself.

Luo Binghe returns from the kitchen less than a few moments later with a tray of tea and an assortment of sweets and snacks.

“I hope Binghe bought some for himself as well,” Shen Qingqiu comments mildly as he watches Luo Binghe set down a single cup of herbal tea in front of him.

“This is for Shizun,” Luo Binghe says.

“It’s important for Binghe to remember to take breaks as well,” Shen Qingqiu chides. “Get yourself some tea as well. Let us rest for a moment.”

Luo Binghe tilts his head forward. “If Shizun wishes.”

Shen Qingqiu takes the papers littering the table and moves them onto the floor beside him.

Luo Binghe fetches a teacup for himself before taking a seat across from him.

“I hope to finish most of my work tonight,” Shen Qingqiu remarks after several moments have gone by in silence.

Not that there is a need for him to break the quiet between the two of them.

It’s comfort enough for Shen Qingqiu that they are in the same place, coexisting with no pressure to keep up a conversation. Aside from the occasional brushes of fingers as they reached for different pieces of paper, and casual talks that had filled up breakfast, Shen Qingqiu basked in the silence, much like he had when Luo Binghe was still a proper disciple of Qing Jing Peak, helping him with the balances.

He’s sure it is the same for Luo Binghe.

“Shizun may take as long as he needs,” comes Luo Binghe’s reply.

Shen Qingqiu gives him a look. He knew, when he first proposed to Luo Binghe to tell him when he was uncomfortable being on the peak, that there was no chance that he would ever listen, far too willing to sacrifice his own comfort in favor of Shen Qingqiu’s. “Luo Binghe.”

“Yes, Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu sighs. “Nevermind. In any case, did you manage to complete the job you wanted to do?”

“What?” Luo Binghe asks blankly.

“The reason you wanted to come here?” Shen Qingqiu prompts. “Did you forget about it?”

For some reason, the question makes Luo Binghe go red.

The first signs of a summer cold? “Binghe? Are you feeling alright?”

“YES,” Luo Binghe says.

Shen Qingqiu stares.

Luo Binghe lowers his voice. “I mean, this one is feeling fine Shizun. To answer Shizun’s question, the task I had to complete while here hasn’t happened. This one will take care of it soon.”

Shen Qingqiu squints. “And you’re not lying to me?”

Luo Binghe smiles. It looks authentic enough, but Shen Qingqiu is personally acquainted with Luo Binghe’s ability to keep up appearances, whether that be towards friend or foe. “This one would never lie to you,” he says.

Shen Qingqiu frowns. “Alright,” he says, for lack of anything better.

He has no doubt that Luo Binghe will not lie to him about anything truly important, like some major happening on the mountain, or in the demon world. There is no need to hide dangers under the guise of protecting Shen Qingqiu, and Luo Binghe won’t, if only to let Shen Qingqiu learn about a new species of fauna or monster hybrids that he has discovered on his expeditions. These are the things that Luo Binghe has deemed important in his book. In Luo Binghe’s eyes, Shen Qingqiu is sure that his own feelings and weaknesses are pushed to the sideline. An afterthought.

The thought makes Shen Qingqiu mildly uncomfortable.

But he also knows that honesty with Luo Binghe about is something that will only improve with time and more reassurance from Shen Qingqiu that yes, he has chosen Luo Binghe to spend the rest of his life with, whatever that may entail.

And, Shen Qingqiu thinks with no small amount of satisfaction, it’s not like Luo Binghe is too bad on the eyes either. He determinedly does not think about the body pillow with Luo Binghe’s body plastered on it back in his original life. He wonders if someone had thrown it out by now.

Anyways.

Luo Binghe, no matter how ridiculously strong he ended up becoming after those three years in the abyss, never quite managed to get rid of the last bits of softness that stuck to his cheek from his childhood. It makes his face look softer, but no less manly. Almost a physical reminder that Shen Qingqiu’s white lotus has never left him.

Like this, a mix of sharp lines and soft edges, with his face lit by fiery oranges and reds from outside, Luo Binghe seems to glow.

It’s a nice look for him, Shen Qingqiu thinks.

Luo Binghe catches Shen Qingqiu looking and grins. “Does Shizun see something he likes?”

Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “All this Shizun sees is a disciple not doing any work.”

“I thought Shizun was the one to say breaks were important?”

Shen Qingqiu looks away.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Luo Binghe smile wider.

Luo Binghe always looked the best when he was smiling.

Shen Qingqiu feels overwhelmed with some unexplainable emotion. It’s not painful, what he’s feeling, but one that makes his chest tighten up and his heart want to beat out of his chest all the same.

It’s become a common feeling when around Luo Binghe, especially as of late. Before his brain can catch up to it, his mouth is already open. “Binghe—”

“Shizun, I—”.

Shen Qingqiu cuts himself off first. Which is all the better for him, because he doesn’t know what he would have continued with had Luo Binghe not interrupted with his own call. “Yes?”

Luo Binghe breaks eye contact in favor of looking down into his teacup. His smile shifts slightly, unreadable to Shen Qingqiu. It’s a reminder, like so many things, that there is still so much he has yet to learn about the man he has promised to follow for the rest of eternity.

The smile looks nervous, if Shen Qingqiu has to put a word to it. But that has to be far from the truth.

It is only the two of them now, in the comforts of the bamboo house Luo Binghe had spent the better part of his disciple-hood growing up in. What was there to be nervous about?

“Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu prompts again.

Luo Binghe’s expression clears. “Shizun first.”

Shen Qingqiu clears his throat in an attempt of nonchalance. “This master already forgot,” he says as confidently as he can with a wave of his hand. “Binghe can tell me what he wanted to say.”

After a moment, Luo Binghe shakes his head. “It’s nothing, Shizun. It seems that I have forgotten as well.”

Does Luo Binghe take his Shizun for an idiot?

Shen Qingqiu searches Luo Binghe’s expression. The forced calmness on Luo Binghe’s expression is painfully obvious, particularly with the image of the face he was making just moments ago still fresh in his mind.

Well. Shen Qingqiu is probably not going to get any answers right now. He nods, letting the subject drop in favor of splitting a piece of osthmanthus cake for the two of them to share.

Luo Binghe takes it from him gratefully.

In hindsight, Shen Qingqiu should have pushed further.

—————

The rest of the evening goes by without any more unusualities.

By the time nightfall properly descends on the peak, only candlelight and the moon being their source of light, Shen Qingqiu had finished the larger chunk of everything he put on his agenda.

He rolls his neck with a light yawn. “Are you still working?”

Luo Binghe perks up. “Would Shizun like to go to bed? This one will tie your hair.”

Shen Qingqiu nods. Luo Binghe shifts them into a position so that he’s sitting on the bed behind Shen Qingqiu, while Shen Qingqiu sits in a chair in front of him.

He sighs when Luo Binghe starts gently brushing through his hair with a fine-toothed comb, gentle when dealing with the slight tangles that have managed to find their way in, even on such a leisurely day.

Afterwards, Luo Binghe insists on helping him change out of his clothes and lie down on the bed, things Shen Qingqiu is perfectly capable of doing himself but well.

He can’t say he’s opposed to this kind of treatment, either.

As is the routine that has somehow befallen them every night, Luo Binghe assesses that Shen Qingqiu is lying comfortably before he asks him, “Does Shizun need anything more?”

Shen Qingqiu shakes his head in return.

This is what is supposed to happen next: Luo Binghe will finally turn to his own nighttime routine, crawl into bed in an effort not to disrupt Shen Qingqiu, and wrap himself up in his body until he can’t keep his eyes open any longer.

But rather than sitting down on the bed with Shen Qingqiu, Luo Binghe goes back to sit down at the low table, and picks up his brush.

“Binghe?”

Luo Binghe gives him a reassuring smile. “Is the light bothering Shizun? This one can go into my old room to finish this.”

And leave Shen Qingqiu to sleep alone?

Shen Qingqiu frowns and shifts up on the bed so that he’s resting on his elbows. “Stop working.”

“Ah, this one just has to finish this. It won’t take long, so Shizun can go to sleep first.”

“Is it so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow morning?”

Luo Binghe wavers. “No...”

Shen Qingqiu yawns again, lifting a hand to cover his mouth. It brings tears to his eyes when he does, and he blinks them away quickly. The exhaustion pulls at him properly now, making his voice come out softer and deeper than it usually does. “Then that settles it. Binghe, come to bed?”

Luo Binghe starts to blush, for some reason Shen Qingqiu can’t explain. He’s in his sleep robes, hair loose, and eyes already drooping. If anything, Shen Qingqiu probably looks exhausted.

“To sleep,” he feels the need to clarify.

Luo Binghe laughs. “Okay. I’ll join Shizun in a moment.”

He gets up and disappears into the side room. Shen Qingqiu blinks. Is he actually planning on finishing his work there? He didn’t even take the candle! Is he going to go work in the dark?

As if hearing Shen Qingqiu’s internal interrogation, Luo Binghe comes out moments later.

“This one will get ready for bed now.”

Shen Qingqiu finally lies back on the bed fully, appeased. “Binghe shouldn’t overwork himself,” he remarks.

“This one will keep that in mind,” Luo Binghe says, quickly changing his robes and washing up before blowing out the candle.

Shen Qingqiu already feels himself falling into a light doze by the time Luo Binghe finally gets into bed. He rests his head near Shen Qingqiu’s, close enough that his nose touches his cheek. His arm wraps around him to pull him close. “Shizun, sleep well.”

Shen Qingqiu turns his head so that he can press his lips lightly on the bridge of Luo Binghe’s nose. “Binghe as well.”

Only then, he allows sleep to succumb him fully.

—————

Sleeping with someone else is a luxury that Shen Qingqiu has never been able to experience until Luo Binghe.

Shen Qingqiu thinks that something poetic probably fits here, something about the comfort of going to sleep with someone with no guards up, and waking up with them in turn. Luckily or not, prose had never been one of his strong suits.

Whether it was Luo Binghe’s head on his chest or his buried in Luo Binghe’s neck or Luo Binghe’s back against his front, it was nice in an indescribable way.

Most of the time.

Most of the time, Shen Qingqiu would have no qualms about sleeping with Luo Binghe every night. Which he does, regardless, but Shen Qingqiu forgets to factor in one crucial detail to it all; the heat.

It is especially bad in the summer, no matter how hard Luo Binghe tried to keep things cooler with open windows and chilled treats in between meals. More often than not, Shen Qingqiu would wake up in the middle of the night to his hair inner robes sticking to him and sweat cooling off in several uncomfortable places.

It makes Shen Qingqiu envy Shang Qinghua in ways that he has never thought he would stoop so low to do.

That being said, Shen Qingqiu has gotten used to waking up unreasonably hot on any given day despite the season. But usually,

He is most definitely not ready to wake up to Luo Binghe’s body still pressed up against him. An extremely warm body. The heat is enough to even overpower the thought that Luo Binghe has never slept this late in as long as Shen Qingqiu has known him.

Shen Qingqiu groans, voice raspy with sleep. “Binghe, how do you get even hotter?”

He pushes at Luo Binghe weakly. Luo Binghe doesn’t budge, which is more or less what Shen Qingqiu expected when he tried to push a man made of pure muscle.

Shen Qingqiu tries a little harder.

Maybe a little too hard. Because Luo Binghe promptly falls to the floor with a loud crash.

Shen Qingqiu starts. “Binghe?!”

Luo Binghe scrambles up to his feet, eyes wide. “What happened?! Shizun, are you alright?”

Shen Qingqiu splutters. “Are you alright?!”

Luo Binghe takes a second to look around. He drops the defensive position he had automatically been in. “This one is fine, Shizun!”

Shen Qingqiu gets out of bed quickly and goes over to where Luo Binghe is standing. As if he’d ever trust Luo Binghe’s assessments of his own body. He pats down Luo Binghe’s robes and shoulders, checking his head for any bruises. “Shizun is sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Luo Binghe shakes his head, and a light flush brushes across his cheeks. “I’m alright.”

Shen Qingqiu watches him carefully.

“I am,” Luo Binghe says assuredly. “Shizun should lie back down. This one will start on breakfast.”

And there’s not much more Shen Qingqiu can say to refute that.

—————

Shen Qingqiu takes it back.

Because Luo Binghe is most definitely not fine.

He’s shifty all day, sparing Shen Qingqiu nervous glances, opening his mouth only to say nothing, and tripping over his feet too many times to be called a coincidence.

And now.

Shen Qingqiu is finally doing the last of his paperwork, already having spent quite some time on it, and all Luo Binghe has done in that time was glare at the paper he’s reading. A letter? The only kind of letter that would upset Luo Binghe to this degree was if it was from Huan Hua. Or Liu Qingge. Or any of the peak lords, really.

Okay.

So there were a lot of people that could put such a frustrated look on Luo Binghe’s face. Whatever.

“Has the letter done something to you?” Shen Qingqiu asks amusedly, if only to hide the underlying growing concern.

Luo Binghe freezes. “Nothing like that,” He says awkwardly.

“Let this master help you with it,” Shen Qingqiu says, and opens his palm towards Luo Binghe.

“Ah, Shizun doesn’t need to worry about such things.”

“Nonsense. I don’t need to understand what is happening in the demon world to be able to tell off some old lord.” Shen Qingqiu raises an eyebrow at the hesitant expression that still lingers on Luo Binghe’s face. He rushes to reassure, “Really. It won’t weigh on this one’s consciousness at all.”

Luo Binghe tries for a smile. In Shen Qingqiu’s opinion, it fails horribly.

Shen Qingqiu looks at him, starting to feel a little suspicious. “What is it? Is it badmouthing me or something? I can take it.”

He makes a move to grab the paper out of Luo Binghe’s hand.

Shen Qingqiu looks at the paper. He holds it closer to his face in case there is something that he is missing. And then he looks back at Luo Binghe. “Binghe.”

Luo Binghe fixes his posture so that he is sitting properly. His hands bunch up the fabric of the robes in his lap. “Yes Shizun.”

“This paper just has some numbers on it.”

“...Yes, Shizun.”

“You’re staring at a blank piece of paper with numbers on it,” Shen Qingqiu reiterates.

Luo Binghe doesn’t respond.

Shen Qingqiu wonders if there is something he isn’t understanding. Is there invisible writing in this world? He stares at it for a moment longer, and then decides that he may as well not waste his time and just ask the source of all his confusions.

The source who has currently yet to act normally once all day.

“Does Binghe want to explain to me why he’s spent this whole time looking at this? There’s not even words on it.”

“I... No, Shizun.”

No? Is that your final answer? Shen Qingqiu looks up from the blank page to look again at Luo Binghe, who is pointedly not meeting his eyes. “And you are sure about that.”

“Yes.”

Shen Qingqiu stares at Luo Binghe’s face carefully. Is he sweating?

“Okay then,” Shen Qingqiu says carefully. “If it is something personal, Binghe only needs to tell me, and I won’t prompt further. But Binghe should share his troubles with me if he feels like they are too much.”

Luo Binghe shakes his head. “I understand, Shizun. But I have no secrets from him. I was doing as Shizun said.”

Shen Qingqiu frowns. “Maybe... Binghe should rest for a bit.”

“No need,” Luo Binghe responds quickly. “I can help Shizun do some of his work.”

Shen Qingqiu’s mind is already made up. “I’m capable of doing my own work. It’s better for Binghe to rest if he’s feeling tired. Nothing will get done if your mind is not at it’s best.”

Luo Binghe shakes his head. “This one doesn’t need to,” he says again.

Shen Qingqiu sighs. “This isn’t something to be stubborn about. Come,” he says. He puts down his papers on the table and holds out his hand.

Luo Binghe takes it with a frown. “Shizun...”

Shen Qingqiu pulls him up to his feet and leads him to their bed. “Lie down here, please.”

Luo Binghe does as he’s told, much to Shen Qingqiu’s pleasure.

Shen Qingqiu pats Luo Binghe’s chest. “This teacher will be right next to you. Rest your eyes.”

“Shizun... I’m not very tired right now. Let me at least get started on dinner.”

Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes. “Who was the one that made breakfast today? The one who cleaned our bed and swept the floors?” He sighs, and pats Luo Binghe’s forearm. “You’ve done enough.”

Luo Binghe makes a wounded noise. “Shizun... this one is still capable of helping you.”

“The only way you’ll be able to help me is by resting until you’re better.”

“But Shizun, what about dinner...”

“You forget that this master doesn’t need to eat.” Shen Qingqiu taps Luo Binghe’s hand. “Be obedient.”

Luo Binghe sighs, and to Shen Qingqiu he almost sounds defeated. “Yes, Shizun.”

A moment goes by like this, the two of them simply looking upon the other.

“Shizun, would it be too presumptuous to ask if—” He cuts himself off.

Shen Qingqiu raises an eyebrow. “Ask what? Tell me clearly.”

“Could Shizun stay by this disciple as he works?”

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t blush. And while he does leave Luo Binghe for a moment to walk to his desk, it is only to grab the correspondences he told himself he would finish by nightfall.

It is most definitely not to hide any color that may or may not have bloomed on his face. He waits another moment before he goes back to sit on the edge of the bed.

He turns his head and outstretches his hand. “Binghe doesn’t need to ask.”

Luo Binghe’s cheeks grow red as he shifts on the bed so that he’s curled slightly around Shen Qingqiu’s back. His hands outreach to take Shen Qingqiu’s, and then stops just before his fingers can touch Shen Qingqiu’s palm.

Shen Qingqiu does his best not to get embarrassed at the sight. He wants to snap. Binghe! We’ve done much worse than this!

Well.

It’s not like there is any real reason for Shen Qingqiu to deny his request. Shen Qingqiu puts his palm in Luo Binghe, who then goes further to intertwine their fingers

If anything, it’s reminiscent, a little, of the Shen Yuan who would sit in bed, sick just as Luo Binghe was, trying to think of ways to pass the time. It would have been nice then, Shen Qingqiu thinks wryly, to have someone keep him company like this.

There’s no use dwelling on it now, though. He tightens his grip on Luo Binghe ever so slightly.

Luo Binghe squeezes his hand tighter in response.

It’s hard to do work with one hand, admittedly. But manageable.

He isn’t sure how much time passes before he finishes the work in his lap and turns back to Luo Binghe. The man in question is staring back at him. Was he doing that this whole time?!

Shen Qingqiu furrows his brows. “Did you not sleep?”

“I wasn’t tired,” Luo Binghe answers honestly.

“You should have at least tried,” Shen Qingqiu scolds lightly. “Does your head hurt?”

Luo Binghe shifts slightly on the bed. “No, I just like watching Shizun,” he says bashfully.

What’s with that? Is he trying to embarrass Shen Qingqiu? He tries to make the feeling go away by running a hand through Luo Binghe’s hair. He means for it to come out annoyed, when he sighs and tells Luo Binghe, “You have the rest of your life to do that.”

In typical fashion, when it comes to things pertaining to Luo Binghe, it only comes out as fond.

Shen Qingqiu sighs, but smiles regardless. “Well, it’s almost dinner time anyways if you want to get up. We can eat a bit before we come back to bed.”

Luo Binghe sits up. “Wait, before that...”

“Yes?”

“Does Shizun want to go on a walk?”

Shen Qingqiu assesses Luo Binghe for a moment. “A walk? Where did that come from?”

Luo Binghe swallows. “Nothing, Shizun. I just thought some fresh air would be nice right now.”

Shen Qingqiu has no idea what Luo Binghe is thinking. They have open windows; they don’t have a choice but to get fresh air. “I suppose so.”

Luo Binghe beams. It doesn’t take much to put that expression on his face. Shen Qingqiu will endeavor to keep it there. “Give me a moment to get ready, and we can go.”

Shen Qingqiu nods. “No rush,” he says, watching Luo Binghe spring out of bed with none of the stumbling from earlier that morning. The sight soothes the worry that had been plaguing him all day. Luo Binghe probably just had a bad day. Everyone has those. He’s perfectly fine.

—————

Admittedly, taking a walk on a cool summer night is nice. There are no disciples around where they are, so Shen Qingqiu does not say anything when Luo Binghe reaches over to rub the back of his palm against his, and then interlock their fingers. Inwardly, he’s even a little pleased about it.

“Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu pauses in his musings. “Binghe can speak his mind freely,” he says.

Luo Binghe’s hands clasp together. “Does— does Shizun remember earlier this afternoon?”

Shen Qingqiu gives him a dry look. “This teacher isn’t actually that old.”

Luo Binghe shakes his head. “This one knows. It’s just— does Shizun remember that I had wanted to tell him something?”

Shen Qingqiu blinks. Ah. “Does Binghe remember what he wanted to say now?”

Luo Binghe nods.

There’s an awkward moment then, where Luo Binghe doesn’t continue speaking like Shen Qingqiu expects him to.

“Are you going to tell me?” Shen Qingqiu asks expectantly.

Luo Binghe jolts. “Yes! Yes.” He takes a deep breath. “Shizun, I wanted to tell you,” Luo Binghe starts, and takes a step forward eagerly.

Within that moment and the next, the weight of a muscled grown man falls onto him unexpectedly, and Shen Qingqiu goes down toppling. He lets out a surprised noise when his back hits soft dirt and his chest meets another hard chest. Almost too hard. Luo Binghe, what have you been eating?!

“Ugh,” Shen Qingqiu says.

He takes a moment to reorient himself and come to terms with the facts of what just happened: Luo Binghe has just tripped on nothing. For the second time today.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even have the room to be embarrassed over falling over so easily in the wake of his concern.

Luo Binghe quickly yanks his upper body up so that he’s leaning on his forearms on either side of Shen Qingqiu’s head. “Shizun! Are you hurt?”

“No,” Shen Qingqiu replies. “Don’t worry about it.” He pats at Luo Binghe’s sides. “Come now, help me up.”

Hastily, Luo Binghe moves off of Shen Qingqiu and stays on his knees to help him into a sitting position.

Luo Binghe clears his throat. “Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu waits for Luo Binghe to follow up with something. When he doesn’t, Shen Qingqiu says, “Let’s just go back inside. It’s been a long day, and some time since we’ve last eaten.”

Luo Binghe bites his lip. “Yes, but Shizun I...” Again, he doesn’t say anything further than that.

Shen Qingqiu rests his hand on Luo Binghe’s chest. “Whatever it is, you can tell me later. Shizun will listen when Binghe has the words.”

Luo Binghe sighs, defeated. He helps Shen Qingqiu up to his feet. “All right, Shizun, lets go inside.”

—————

In his dreams that night, Shen Qingqiu’s subconscious conjures up the image of Luo Binghe somehow turning into the sun, the actual one, while Shen Qingqiu becomes a piece of bamboo taking in all of it’s warmth.

It’s a small mercy that Luo Binghe doesn’t wander into his mind to see this nonsense.

He opens his eyes.

Nope. Definitely not just in the dream.

At some point in the middle of the night, the two must have gravitated towards each other despite the sun outside. Luo Binghe's head has ended up on his chest, and his limbs tangled with Shen Qingqiu’s own.

But that was the least of his concerns.

If Luo Binghe was running warm the day before, today the heat borders on unbearable. He’s even clammier than usual, and Luo Binghe is ... shaking next to him?

Shen Qingqiu scrambles out of bed. Luo Binghe doesn’t even notice. Another red flag.

Could it be some sort of qi deviation? But he wasn’t at any crucial point of a qi deviation, so that didn’t even make sense.

He presses the back of his hand to Luo Binghe’s forehead and hisses, immediately retracting it. Some sort of poison, maybe? But who would want to poison him here? Unless this was some sort of delayed reaction to one?!

He doesn’t notice Luo Binghe blinking his eyes open until he speaks. “Sh...Shizun?”

“Binghe, are you up?”

Luo Binghe grunts under his breath as he tries to prop himself up onto his elbows.

“Lie back down. This teacher thinks you might be poisoned.”

“Shizun, I’m feeling fine.”

“Lie back down, Binghe. It’s much too early to be getting up anyways.” Shen Qingqiu does not bring up how he is already in the middle of getting dressed for the day.

“Shizun, I need to make breakfast.”

“Do you think this master can not do a thing for himself?”

“Shizun, you can check my temperature if you wish. There is nothing wrong with me.”

Brave words coming from someone who looks like they are two blinks away from falling back asleep. “I already did,” Shen Qingqiu says.

Luo Binghe continues. "Shizun, I can take care of this. Shizun doesn't have to worry."

Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes. "Shizun this, Shizun that. Don't be ridiculous. Does this master look incapable to you?"

The words don't have their intended effect. Luo Binghe hastily tries to rise back up. "Shizun, this one didn’t mean to offend!"

Shen Qingqiu waves his hand. “Of course, I know that. Binghe is just looking out for me, as he always does. Let me do it this time.”

Luo Binghe’s shoulders droop. "This one apologizes."

"Nothing to be sorry for," Shen Qingqiu says with a note of finality. He taps Luo Binghe’s shoulders. “Go on then, lie back down if you understand.”

Luo Binghe lies down.

Shen Qingqiu sighs. “Thank you. Stay like that, and this master will try and find out if you’ve been poisoned or not.”

“It doesn’t feel like poison. My blood would have taken care of it by now.”

Shen Qingqiu frowns. “You have fever symptoms. What else could it be? There’s a first time for everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was something that existed that could potentially harm a Heavenly Demon.”

Shen Qingqiu says as much, but he’d be lying if his concerns didn’t overlap with Luo Binghe’s.

If it’s a poison, why is Luo Binghe affected by it in the first place? Even if it was strong enough to somehow get past the barrier that is his heavenly demon blood, surely Luo Binghe would have noticed if it had taken root in his soul. Shen Qingqiu has no doubt that even that for Luo Binghe would not have been too much of an obstacle.

He makes a mental note to ask for Shang Qinghua.

—————

It comes sooner than he thinks it will.

Apparently, Shang Qinghua just does nothing nowadays despite the position of peak lord, because it doesn’t take longer than an hour for Shang Qinghua to come knocking on the door.

Shen Qingqiu turns to Luo Binghe. “Binghe can rest here.”

“Where is Shizun going?” Luo Binghe asks. His voice is hoarse, despite talking minimally all morning. Shen Qingqiu’s worry grows.

“Just outside. I have some business to take care of, but it won’t take long. If Binghe feels worse, he can call for me and I will come.”

“... Alright, Shizun.”

“Rest your eyes if you can,” Shen Qingqiu offers, before going to open the door.

Shang Qinghua is waiting outside, hands raised to knock again.

Shen Qingqiu steps out and closes the door behind him.

“You’re not even going to invite me in?” Shang Qinghua asks, crestfallen. “I’m exhausted!”

“Luo Binghe is resting,” Shen Qingqiu responds. “We’ll talk out here.”

Shang Qinghua groans. “But it’s so hot outside!”

Shen Qingqiu fans himself.

Shang Qinghua sighs. “You are so lucky I was nearby for all of this. What would you have done if I was still with my king?”

Shen Qingqiu says dryly, “Drag you back here by the ears. What else?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“How much do you want to bet on that?”

Shang Qinghua huffs. “Well anyways, get on with it. I was actually busy before this, you know.”

“I’m sure.”

“Hey.”

“Anyways, I have reasonable suspicion to believe that Luo Binghe was poisoned.”

Shang Qinghua splutters. “Excuse me?!”

Shen Qingqiu explains everything he’s noticed.

“Let me just... Okay. You said, he has a high temperature, has been distracted since yesterday, unsteady at times, hoarse voice, and shivering? Did I catch them all?”

Shen Qingqiu nods. “Sounds about right.”

Shang Qinghua raises an eyebrow. “And what did you say you thought this was?”

“Poison.”

Shang Qinghua raises an eyebrow. “I think he’s just sick, dude.”

“What?”

“You know, sick? Fever? Uh...ill? Running out of synonyms here.”

Shen Qingqiu clenches his fan so hard he’s surprised it doesn’t splinter. “Let’s say you’re right, and that for some inexplicable reason, rather than being poisoned, Luo Binghe has fallen into bed with a fever. Which doesn’t make sense at all to begin with, considering the last time he’s been sick was before his demon side even awakened.” He pauses to take a breath. “Why is Luo Binghe sick?”

“What do you mean, why is he sick? This is a normal thing that happens to people, you know.”

“Luo Binghe is not a normal person. He’s the only man in this entire world that has a protagonist halo, even if the core plot of your stupid novel is over. Why is he sick? Shouldn’t he be immune to this?””

“Demons can get sick too! I know I wrote Luo Binghe having gotten sick at least once while he slept in the woodshed... ”

Shen Qingqiu pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shouldn’t the whole demon awakening thing help with that at all?”

“He’s still human, I guess?”

“You’re an idiot,” Shen Qingqiu says.

“Now that’s just uncalled for.”

“Is it? Can you guarantee me that this isn’t just a plot point the system isn’t telling me of? That this isn’t something you wrote on some spare paper that I’m being forced to live through right now? Think carefully about your answer, Shang-shidi.”

Shang Qinghua grumbles. “Just because you’ve lived through a few wife plots and now you’re a bitter old man.”

Bitter? Old man?

“A few?” Shen Qingqiu asks instead, voice taking on a tone dangerous enough that even someone like Shang Qinghua can pick it up. “A few wife plots. Should I list them for you? How many wives did you give the original Luo Binghe again?”

Shang Qinghua throws his hands up in the air. “Okay! Sorry. Shouldn’t have bought it up. But really, bro. I have no idea what he could have gotten sick with. It really doesn’t look like poison or an injury to me.”

And truthfully, it doesn’t look like that to Shen Qingqiu either. He’s been sick frequently enough in his first life to recognize the signs when they are lying right in front of him.

Shen Qingqiu pinches his nose. “Okay. Fine then. He’s sick. Just regular sick. Do I treat it like a regular illness? Will it go away by itself?”

“I’m sure it will.”

“Can you be certain about that?”

Shang Qinghua laughs nervously. “Not really?”

Shen Qingqiu fights off the incoming headache. “You will find out exactly what you wrote about this, and you will tell me tomorrow.”

“...Right.”

“I’m going back inside.”

“You do that, Cucumber-bro.”

—————

Luo Binghe is fast asleep when Shen Qingqiu walks back in. He sighs, some weight off his shoulders removing themselves from at the very least knowing what’s wrong with Luo Binghe.

Sick. Shen Qingqiu can work with that. He brushes away Luo Binghe’s bangs from his face so they don’t bother his eyes or his nose while he sleeps, and goes to the kitchen.

There's a certain eloquence to being sick that Shen Qingqiu has never quite mastered. Things like, remembering to feed oneself and bath, remembering to throw away the dirty tissues and not wait until an army of them had piled up on one half of the bed, leaving barely any room to sleep. The little things that were typically put under the umbrella of "taking care of oneself".

He had only gotten sick once during his time as peak lord, a minor bout of fever that he had healed from within forty-eight hours. It was nothing, Mu Qingfang had said when word eventually got around that Shen Qingqiu was bedridden. As long as Shen Qingqiu remembered to drink lots of water and drink a bitter medicinal concoction every night, he would be healed in no time. Shen Qingqiu had probably exhausted himself in his cultivation, and it left him weakened to an illness one of the disciples must have contracted.

Luo Binghe had been the only one of his students that had had a fever in the last two weeks, and what with the two of them living together with only a wall to separate them, it was rather obvious who it was that had gotten him sick. Shen Qingqiu didn't blame him. It wasn't like Luo Binghe planned to get sick, or pass it along to Shen Qingqiu. And Shen Qingqiu wasn't unused to illness in the slightest. Shen Qingqiu told Luo Binghe as much when the boy had dropped to his knees and kowtowed in front of him to repent.

Shen Qingqiu had spent a good chunk of time trying to comfort his little white lotus with headpats and an insistence of “Binghe, you do not deserve to get punished for this.”

Not that it had mattered in the slightest when Luo Binghe looked as if he was about to burst out into tears whenever Shen Qingqiu so much as coughed.

Shen Qingqiu remembers the meals being made for him in those two days being especially delicious, or maybe that was his sick-addled brain thinking that anything that wasn't Mu Qingfang's medicine was a meal taken right off the plate of a god.

The point was, Shen Qingqiu is terrible at being sick. He’s a good patient when there is a doctor standing at the foot of his bed making sure he is doing as told, but that is where the line is drawn. During that two-day illness, it was Luo Binghe that had made sure he kept down at least half of what was made for him, Luo Binghe that had helped Shen Qingqiu to the baths, and Luo Binghe that had kept track of how long it’s been since Shen Qingqiu’s last dosage of medicine.

None of this bodes well for the fact that Shen Qingqiu has now become the caretaker, instead of the one being taken care of.

Shen Qingqiu stops thinking so hard about it. He’ll just take things one at a time, and wing the rest, and it’ll probably end up fine by the end. But first things first. Breakfast.

Shen Qingqiu elects to ignore that the sun is already high in the sky by now, and that the disciples mulling outside were probably just on the verge of their lunch break from lessons. It doesn’t matter. In his opinion, the first meal of the day is always breakfast regardless of the time.

As for what to make, Congee is simple, and Luo Binghe makes it look effortless. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t want to make anything that will upset Luo Binghe’s stomach, so a light meal is clearly the only option. And light meals were easy to make. So, a wise choice.

And besides, even if Shen Qingqiu isn’t exactly following a cookbook of ‘Luo Binghe’s List of Ten Thousand Recipes to Impress Your Harem and/or Your Teacher That You Happen to Live With or In This Case Your Sick Student’, Shen Qingqiu can at least differentiate between what tastes right and wrong.

It doesn’t need to be perfect, he further justifies to himself. So long as the ingredients are there to help Luo Binghe feel better.

The ingredients in the kitchen are... somewhere. Shen Qingqiu thinks with a small amount of guilt that he has rarely been in his own kitchen, leaving all the meals and prepping up to Luo Binghe. He knows Luo Binghe doesn’t exactly mind, and rather rejoices in being able to cook for him, but still. It says something that Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even know where the utensils are kept.

It takes much longer than it would have ever taken Luo Binghe to finally put together something that looks edible. Partially because Shen Qingqiu has been tiptoeing around the kitchen to keep from making any noise that would be loud enough to make Luo Binghe wake up and, god forbid, want to get out of bed to help him. The other part is Shen Qingqiu’s general uselessness.

Shen Qingqiu wonders if it’s hilarious or pathetic that he is unable to use a kitchen knife when he uses a sword on a regular basis. He looks down at the oddly shaped garlic slices sprinkled on top of a bowl of watery rice.

Pathetic is probably it.

He places the bowl on a tray and after another moment, steeps some tea and places that on the tray as well.

Luo Binghe is still lying in the same place that Shen Qingqiu left him in.

Shen Qingqiu’s heart clenches at the thought of waking him up.

“Binghe,” he calls gently, unwilling to put the tray down just yet in the case Luo Binghe moves in his sleep and spills it over. “Binghe, you need to eat.”

It speaks to how Luo Binghe must be feeling that that is not enough for him to have leapt out of bed already.

Precariously, Shen Qingqiu balances the tray on one of his open palms. He places his other hand on Luo Binghe’s shoulder lightly. “Binghe?”

At the touch, Luo Binghe finally wakes up, eyes blinking quickly to get rid of the residual sleepiness.

Immediately he tries to pull himself up and off the bed. “Shizun—!”

“Relax, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu says, and Luo Binghe wilts.

“This one meant to get up earlier,” he pouts. It’s terribly cute.

Shen Qingqiu gestures to the food in his arms. “Binghe, are you able to eat yourself?”

Luo Binghe nods. His eyes droop with exhaustion, but still, his face brightens when he sees the tray in Shen Qingqiu’s hands. “Shizun cooked for me?”

“This teacher can do that much at least,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Binghe couldn’t possibly have expected that I would make him make his own meals when he’s like this, did he?”

Luo Binghe, ever the dutiful disciple, shakes his head, even when his expression tells Shen Qingqiu that he would like nothing more than to refute the implication that he is anything other than perfectly healthy.

“I can do it, Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu places the tray precariously on the bed.

Luo Binghe looks at the tray, at the lumpy sad pile of rice and tea that is probably much too bitter.

Embarrassed, Shen Qingqiu adds, “This master can’t, ah, exactly speak for the taste of the meal, but,” he says, resuming the air of a respected teacher, “it’s important for Binghe to eat regardless if he wants to get better.”

If anything, Luo Binghe looks even happier. “This one would like to try what Shizun made for him.”

Shen Qingqiu reaches behind to place his hand on Luo Binghe’s back for support. He grunts as Shen Qingqiu helps him up into a sitting position.

“Do you feel dizzy?” Shen Qingqiu asks, just to be safe.

“I’m alright, Shizun,” Luo Binghe insists.

“If that changes, let me know,” Shen Qingqiu says. He watches Luo Binghe’s expression carefully for any sign of distaste. “If it’s too bad, don’t eat anymore,” he says nervously. “I’ll send Ning Yingying to get something from the disciples’ meal hall.”

“It’s good,” Luo Binghe says, voice coming out choked. “Shizun’s cooking is the best.”

“Chew slowly,” Shen Qingqiu scolds, patting Luo Binghe’s back lightly a few times. “And with your mouth closed. For someone your age to choke on their food... Really, what am I going to do with you?”

Luo Binghe swallows. Then he sniffs. “Sorry, Shizun.”

“Let me know if you want seconds.”

“I will.”

“Shizun is glad Binghe enjoyed his cooking,” Shen Qingqiu says after a beat.

Luo Binghe takes another bite. “This one loves everything Shizun does for him.”

“Binghe is too much sometimes,” Shen Qingqiu says, and smiles.

—————

Luckily, maybe, Luo Binghe spends nearly the entire day in between fits of sleep. It’s enough time for him to prepare both lunch and dinner via sending a disciple to get some, and finish the last of the work he has to do so he can pay attention to Luo Binghe fully.

Luo Binghe eats both meals half-asleep, drowsy enough that Shen Qingqiu has to supervise him the entire time to make sure the chopsticks actually go into his mouth. Had Luo Binghe taken a second longer to finish his meal, Shen Qingqiu isn’t sure he would have been able to hold back the urge to take the chopsticks from Luo Binghe and feed him himself.

Shen Qingqiu has half a mind to call for Mu Qingfang and see if he has any better answers while he waits around for Shen Qingqiu. He doesn’t partially because he’s unsure if Luo Binghe would take well to it, and partially because some part of him has already decided this is some plot device the now-dormant System hasn’t told him of, and no regular medicine will be able to cure it, anyways.

For now, he simply keeps a basin beside the bed filled with cold water, so that he can periodically dip a towel into it and drape it across Luo Binghe’s forehead. He is probably doing it wrong, considering the sheer amount of water that drips off its side and onto the pillowcase.

Was he supposed to wring out the towel first? Maybe.

Shen Qingqiu at the very least makes a valiant effort to keep it from going into Luo Binghe’s ears.

It’s only late at night when Shen Qingqiu is about to go to bed that anything notable occurs.

Shen QIngqiu had originally assumed that Luo Binghe was immune to nightmares, being able to control dreams and all. He had forgotten to consider that Luo Binghe isn’t exactly in the best control of his mind at the moment.

He understands it immediately from when the whimpers spill out of Luo Binghe’s lips, eyes shut tight in an attempt to ward off whatever enemy he’s seeing in his head.

Shen Qingqiu wonders only for a second if maybe it would be better to let Luo Binghe sleep through it all. Until Luo Binghe makes another noise of distress and Shen Qingqiu is already at the bedside shaking his shoulders as gently as he can manage.

“Binghe? Wake up, it’s just a nightmare.”

It takes several moments until Luo Binghe’s eyes snap open. He searches the room frantically until his gaze locks onto Shen Qingqiu.

“Shi-zun,” Luo Binghe says in broken syllables.

Shen Qingqiu says whatever he can think of off the top of his head. “Binghe, it was just a dream, you’re awake now. Shizun is here.” He touches Luo Binghe’s cheek gently. When Luo Binghe doesn’t flinch away, he rests his palm against it.

Luo Binghe winces.

Immediately, Shen Qingqiu is on alert.

“Binghe, it’s alright,” Shen Qingqiu soothes.

Luo Binghe sniffles. “...Hurts,” he says finally.

Shen Qingqiu makes a sympathetic noise. He places a cool hand onto Luo Binghe’s burning forehead. “Your head?”

Luo Binghe squints, and makes another pained noise. The wetness that had gathered at the bottom of his eyes spill out and run down toward his ears. “Shizun, it hurts.”

“Show me where, Binghe. This master will make it better.”

Luo Binghe’s limbs must feel too heavy to move, Shen Qingqiu thinks as he watches Luo Binghe struggle to lift his arm. It ends up flopping onto Luo Binghe’s own chest. With Shen Qingqiu’s free hand, he reaches out to cover Luo Binghe’s. “Binghe, can you show me where you’re hurting?”

Luo Binghe whines. “Hurts, Shizun,” he repeats like Shen Qingqiu isn’t listening to him.

“I know, you silly boy,” Shen Qingqiu says with far too much endearment, even as his heart twists. “But if you don’t show me where it hurts the most, I don’t know how to help.”

For a few moments, the only sound that fills the room is Luo Binghe’s ragged breaths. Shen Qingqiu waits patiently, gently rubbing at the palm under his own.

“Here, Shizun,” Luo Binghe finally replies, and doesn’t move an inch from his position. The hand on his chest shifts slightly.

“Your... chest hurts the most?” Shen Qingqiu frowns. Shen Qingqiu hadn’t seen any new physical injuries when he had washed Luo Binghe down this morning. Could someone have administered something through their food? But that didn't make sense either. Luo Binghe prepared all their meals until Shen Qingqiu put him on bed rest, and all the ingredients that he cooked with came from the peak itself. No one on Qing Jing had any reason to want to genuinely poison Luo Binghe.

Not if they wanted to deal with Shen Qingqiu in the aftermath, anyways.

Luo Binghe, unconcerned with all the thoughts in Shen Qingqiu’s head, nods weakly. “Hurts,” he agrees, sending an explicable wave of deja vu through Shen Qingqiu.

Back then, during the whole ‘Luo Binghe losing himself to Xin Mo’ business, he had also said words like “Shizun, it hurts”. Turns out, it doesn’t make Shen Qingqiu’s heart ache any less when he knows that Luo Binghe’s life, most likely, isn’t in real danger.

“Too loud,” Luo Binghe says, fresh new tears falling down his face.

Shen Qingqiu blinks. “Too loud... your heartbeat?”

“Make it quiet, Shizun,” Luo Binghe pleads.

Almost gingerly, Shen Qingqiu shifts his hand from Luo Binghe’s breastbone and towards where his heart lies underneath. Sure enough, it doesn’t take more than a light hand to feel Luo Binghe’s heart hammering against his ribcage.

“Binghe...”

Luo Binghe puts his hand on top of Shen Qingqiu’s.

Shen Qingqiu rubs over the area softly. “Okay. Okay, this teacher will make it quiet.”

Luo Binghe exhales shakily. Shen Qingqiu feels as though he wants to do the same.

“Let’s just relax for a while in that case,” Shen Qingqiu says, not really expecting any response. He doesn’t have any other ideas besides keeping Luo Binghe asleep for as long as possible until he’s better, or until Shang Qinghua tells him that there’s a cure. “You won’t hear it anymore if you do.”

“Relax... with Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu should disagree. He can’t exactly help Luo Binghe heal if he comes down with the same exact illness.

Then again, he’s never been able to deny Luo Binghe much of anything.

“Luo Binghe has to lie down first,” Shen Qingqiu says.

“Shizun... Shizun won’t get sick?”

Nice of you to worry about that now.

“This master won’t get sick.” Probably. If he does, it’ll hopefully be after Luo Binghe recovers, so he can send him after Shang Qinghua to seek revenge.

He lies down next to Luo Binghe, internally grimacing at the heat that immediately envelops him even before their body makes contact.

Luo Binghe immediately shifts as close as he can to Shen Qingqiu.

“It’s still loud,” Luo Binghe says.

Shen Qingqiu pulls Luo Binghe’s body even more flush against his. Luo Binghe makes a pillow out of one of his arms, and Shen Qingqiu knows it will lose feeling by morning. His other hand rests on Luo Binghe’s hip.

“I know,” Shen Qingqiu says. “I’m the same. Don’t you feel my heartbeat too, Binghe?”

“Fast,” Luo Binghe mumbles. “It hurts Shizun too?”

“No,” Shen Qingqiu says. “It doesn’t hurt me.”

What he doesn’t say is this: It will never hurt me. If I feel this for the rest of eternity, all I will ever be is thankful.

Shen Qingqiu must look ridiculous, imagining this kind of situation. One where he voices out these kinds of riddles to a man barely coherent enough to understand him.

It’s a good thing then, that there is no one else in the room to see him do it.

Luo Binghe’s face is wet where it presses into Shen Qingqiu’s neck with tears from before that had yet to completely dry. Shen Qingqiu finds that he doesn’t mind it.

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu continues. “Try and get some sleep. It will feel better in the morning.”

“Shizun promises?”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Shen Qingqiu wonders if Luo Binghe will remember any of this, any of the walls he’s allowing to weaken in front of his Shizun.

“Yes. Shizun promises.”

—————

When Shen Qingqiu wakes up, it's to a puddle of sweat pooling at his back and a Luo Binghe that doesn’t remember anything past the age of sixteen.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t realize that second tidbit at first.

He first detaches Luo Binghe’s arms from around his waist, and then moves the head on his lap onto the closest pillow to him.

Shen Qingqiu winces at the prickles that run through his thighs. Even though it’s hard for any part of this body to properly go numb, being an immortal cultivator and all, it is apparently not immune to soreness.

He places the back of his hand on Luo Binghe’s forehead. The lingering temperature on Shen Qingqiu’s lower half had already told him much, but it is still a concerning thing to see just how badly Luo Binghe is burning from this fever.

Luo Binghe jolts from the movements.

Shen Qingqiu asks him, “Binghe, do you feel any better?”

Luo Binghe blinks several more times, almost lazily looking around the room. He jerks back. “S-Shizun?!”

Shen Qingqiu frowns. “Binghe? Do you feel worse?”

Luo Binghe’s eyes dart around wildly. “Shizun? Are we home?”

Something in Shen Qingqiu’s heart pangs painfully at that. Whether that pain is good or bad, he doesn’t know. It’s overshadowed by the wave of worry that comes from the fact that Luo Binghe barely seems to recognize where he is.

“Luo Binghe,” he orders. “Describe your surroundings to me.”

“This is... the bamboo house,” Luo Binghe says. Then, he seems to register just what exactly he is lying on. His scrambling to get off starts again at full speed. “Am I in Shizun’s bed?!”

The question marks start blaring in his mind. Luo Binghe had been quite taken to call it “their” bed almost as soon as he had been allowed in it, so what’s all this now?

Shen Qingqiu tries to grab at him as gently as he can without hurting him, which is not saying a lot when he is dealing with the protagonist’s full strength against maybe a third of his own. “Stop that! Where are you even going? You have a fever!”

Luo Binghe struggles some more. His eyes water in distress. “It’s Shizun’s bed, I can’t— Shizun, this is not my room!”

“Binghe, what do you mean— Stay still!”

“Shizun... this- this is inappropriate.” Regardless of the words, Luo Binghe’s body becomes more pliant. And... his face becomes more red.

It’s easier to tell now when Luo Binghe is flustered. It always starts with his cheeks, rushing quickly to his ears and down his neck. Usually, when Shen Qingqiu has it in him to tease Luo Binghe with his full attention, Luo Binghe will turn almost comically cherry red, in a way Shen Qingqiu hasn’t seen since cartoons on television.

Now, Luo Binghe’s blush is heightened by the flush that had already settled onto his skin from his sickness. Logically speaking, the sticky dampness that has also settles onto Luo Binghe’s skin should make the sight somewhat less attractive but... Shen Qingqiu’s face heats up too.

It’s too... cute.

“Shizun...?”

Shen Qingqiu hushes him automatically, heart soft despite the grip he has on Luo Binghe’s shoulders to keep him down in case he tries to leave again.

“Binghe.”

“...Yes, Shizun.”

“Do you... remember why you’re here?”

Luo Binghe frowns. After a beat, he shakes his head.

Probably a hallucination. Shang Qinghua had said to expect those. Which is fine. Shen Qingqiu can deal with this.

“Are you still sleeping in the side room right now?” Shen Qingqiu asks.

When Luo Binghe nods, Shen Qingqiu bites back a sigh. So he thinks he’s still a disciple. Okay. Fine. It’s fine.

“You can sleep here,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Shizun doesn’t mind. Just close your eyes, please.”

Luo Binghe makes another protest, albeit weaker than it was before. “This disciple—”

Shen Qingqiu tries a different tactic. “Luo Binghe, this master is telling you to sleep here and get better. Will you defy your teacher his request?”

Immediately, Luo Binghe’s limbs grow completely slack. “No, Shizun,” he says.

Shen Qingqiu hums in agreement. “That’s right. Sleep here. Shizun will watch over you.”

Luo Binghe’s eyes still radiate protest even while his body stays unmoving. “This disciple isn’t very tired. I slept a lot.”

Luckily, Shen Qingqiu has learned long ago how to deal with children, and children-like sick demon lords.

“Okay,” Shen Qingqiu says amiably. “Lie down for the length of one incense stick, and if you’re not tired after that, Shizun will let you get up and go to your room.”

Luo Binghe purses his lips, considering it for a moment. For a second, Shen Qingqiu thinks he might disagree again, but then he remembers that Luo Binghe, at least for the time being, has no recollection of anything past his disciple days. Meaning, his obedience to his Shizun will surely outweigh his own desires.

“Okay,” Luo Binghe says, voice high-pitched as if he’s embarrassed.

He probably is, Shen Qingqiu thinks with no small amount of amusement. Luo Binghe has probably just started having a crush on his teacher around this time, if Luo Binghe’s shy declarations when Shen Qingqiu had asked after it were anything to go by.

The amusement he feels however is overshadowed once more by the sheer amount of worry wracking through his entire body.

Luo Binghe’s breathing, just as Shen Qingqiu had hoped it would, evens out within seconds.

Shen Qingqiu slumps over himself.

Really, this child... how does he just find himself in more and more trouble. More significant than that, trouble that catches even Shen Qingqiu off guard.

—————

Shen Qingqiu thinks, now that he’s seen how it will be, he is prepared for the next bout of hallucinations.

He isn’t.

Luo Binghe snaps up screaming. Immediately, Shen Qingqiu is on him

“Shizun, I miss you,” Luo Binghe cries.

“I’m right here,” Shen Qingqiu says, running a hand through Luo Binghe’s sweat-dampened hair. He shushes him softly.

Luo Binghe shakes his head, whimpering. “No, no, Shizun can’t be here. Stop showing me this, Shizun’s not here, Shizun isn’t here,” he cries out.

“Where else would he go?” Shen Qingqiu asks. “This master promised to stay by Binghe, did he not?”

“Don’t show me this anymore,” Luo Binghe begs. “I won’t want to wake up anymore. Please.” His voice breaks on the last word, and something in Shen Qingqiu breaks with it.

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu says, only slightly harsher than he meant to. “Shizun is right here. I’m real. I won’t leave. Look at me, please.”

Luo Binghe tries to jerk his face away from Shen Qingqiu’s hands. It would have been a successful attempt, Shen Qingqiu thinks half-amusedly, had Luo Binghe’s energy been at its normal levels. As it is, it barely takes the slightest pressure on Luo Binghe’s cheeks to make him still.

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe says pitifully.

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Aren’t I real? Who else would be touching you like this right now?”

“Shizun is... Shizun acts so nicely towards me in dreams.”

“Binghe, you’re not dreaming.”

“How can Shizun know that?” Luo Binghe asks.

Shen Qingqiu sighs. There’s no point trying to argue with Luo Binghe when he’s in this state. “Sleep more, Binghe. Shizun will be here when you wake up, and then you’ll know that you’re not dreaming anymore.”

“Really?”

Shen Qingqiu nods. Before he can think any better of it, he leans down to press a kiss to where Luo Binghe’s demon mark is. It’s enough to mollify him.

“Shizun is sure?” Luo Binghe asks again.

“That this is not a dream? Very.”

Luo Binghe smiles. “I believe in Shizun.”

Several memories flash through Shen Qingqiu’s head. That is something he’s experienced after all. Something he’s learned only recently just how much he’s taken it for granted.

—————

The loud frantic knocking makes Shen Qingqiu jump.

Shen Qingqiu exhales. Finally, Shang Qinghua has arrived with the antidote.

Except, when Shen Qingqiu finally opens the door, standing in front of it is a hazard-looking Ning Yingying.

Concern for Luo Binghe collides with Shen Qingqiu’s instinctual fear that something has gone horribly wrong on Qing Jing and Shen Qingqiu will have to fight demons and get poisoned by a disease that can only be fixed through... Proud Immortal Demon Way means all over again. Granted, it hasn’t happened for quite some time, but those three years since Luo Binghe’s fall in constant vigilance of his surroundings had left its mark.

“Is something wrong?” Shen Qingqiu asks.

Ning Yingying stares back at him wide-eyed. “This one should be asking that question. I heard A-Luo screaming. Is everything okay? Should I call for help?”

Oh. Shen Qingqiu had been hoping that no one would have been around to hear that, but clearly, nothing ever really seemed to go his way. “Ah, it was nothing.”

Ning Yingying’s brows furrow. “Could this one inquire to Shizun as to what happened?”

Shen Qingqiu sees no reason to be completely dishonest. “Luo Binghe had a nightmare.”

Immediately, Ning Yingying’s expression changes into one of sympathy. “Is he alright now?”

“He went back to sleep, if that’s what you’re asking,” Shen Qingqiu says with a wry smile.

Ning Yingying doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure everything is fine? Is there anything I can do? This one thought you two were set to leave days ago. I heard from another disciple that you both stayed, but...”

Shen Qingqiu shakes his head. “Just do as you usually do. Luo Binghe is... unwell right now. But he will get better. And if you see Peak Lord Shang anywhere nearby, tell him to come in here.”

Ning Yingying’s eyebrows go up to her hairline. “Peak Lord Shang?”

“I’m expecting a visit from him today,” Shen Qingqiu explains. “Nothing to be concerned about.”

“...Alright, Shizun,” Ning Yingying agrees after a short pause. “I’ll get going now.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Two steps away from the door of the bamboo house, Ning Yingying stops again. “Shizun.”

“Did you want to ask something else?”

“A-Luo, he will definitely be okay?”

Shen Qingqiu smiles in what he hopes is a comforting way. Ning Yingying may have been one Luo Binghe’s first love interests in the original novel, but Shen Qingqiu was also an older sibling once upon a time; he knows familial love when he sees it. “Don’t worry about that. Just focus on your studies. When he is well, I’ll make sure you are the first to know.”

Ning Yingying, despite still looking somewhat unsatisfied, nods nonetheless. “I’ll go for real now, Shizun.”

“I’ll tell him you stopped by,” Shen Qingqiu says.

Ning Yingying grins. “Thank you, Shizun!”

Shen Qingqiu closes the door, and goes to the kitchen to prepare Luo Binghe’s breakfast.

—————

Hallucinating is one thing, Shen Qingqiu thinks two hours later, holding onto the weight of not just himself but one overly heavy demon lord.

This was something else entirely.

Luo Binghe’s arms may as well be made of iron for how tightly they’re wrapped around Shen Qingqiu’s waste, despite the struggling he is doing to try and pry them off.

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe giggles. “Shizun, I like you.”

Shen Qingqiu has long since decided to let this sickly Luo Binghe just say whatever he wants. “Is that so?”

“I like you,” he says again, this time his voice taking on a more wondrous tone, as if the notion of him liking the man he is currently cohabiting with is surprising somehow. “I like you so much.”

Shen Qingqiu taps Luo Binghe’s nose. Luo Binghe goes cross eyed trying to follow the movement. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe says again.

Shen Qingqiu cups Luo Binghe’s cheek in one palm. Luo Binghe, delirious as he is, leans into it. “This master is listening. You don’t have to keep calling me.”

“Shizun, this- this one has a question.”

Shen Qingqiu nods. “Okay, ask it.”

“Shizun, I want to marry you. Marry Shizun.” Luo Binghe breaks into another fit of giggles.

Shen Qingqiu freezes.

They hadn’t talked about marriage before, and Shen Qingqiu had contented himself with living just like this with Luo Binghe for the rest of his life. This sort of happiness didn’t require something official for it to remain true regardless. Marriage isn’t a necessity for him where Luo Binghe’s love is concerned, although Shen Qingqiu will not deny the seed of... hope, that Luo Binghe’s words plant in him.

Shen Qingqiu has gotten better at that as the months have gone by. The not-denying thing. The hopig thing too. Turns out that realizing that you aren’t being hunted down by a demon lord for your limbs or otherwise changes how you view the outcomes of the world.

Who would have thought.

“That’s not a question,” Shen Qingqiu manages to say weakly.

Luo Binghe ignores him. “I do,” he says forcefully.

“Do you now?” Shen Qingqiu asks. He feels faint, heat flooding to his face.

“I want to marry Shizun,” Luo Binghe repeats with a dopey smile.

“Your Shizun heard you the first time.”

Luo Binghe’s eyes brighten. “Shizun says yes?”

Shen Qingqiu sighs. Just go with it, he reminds himself. He refuses to think too deeply about any of this right now when Luo Binghe won’t remember it by the time the sun sets. “What does Binghe want our wedding to be like?”

Luo Binghe’s entire face scrunches up, as if he’s deep in thought. Worried that the action might give Luo Binghe a headache, Shen Qingqiu hurries to smooth his expression out with gentle strokes on his forehead and near his hairline. “With me and Shizun,” Binghe answers. “And, and.” He stops, and Shen Qingqiu wonders if he’s so lost in whatever he’s imagining that he’s forgotten he still has to speak them out loud.

He smiles helplessly and rubs his thumb over Luo Binghe’s cheekbones a few times to get his attention again. “And who else?” He prompts.

Luo Binghe’s face relaxes. “And mother will be there.”

Shen Qingqiu’s smile stills on his face.

Luo Binghe, none the wiser, continues on. “Mother needs to meet Shizun,” he says decisively.

“Is that right?” Shen Qingqiu asks softly.

Luo Binghe hums in agreement. “Mother would like to meet Shizun.” He finishes with a cough.

“Don’t use your voice more than you need to,” Shen Qingqiu chides, and gives Luo Binghe’s cheek a few more gentle rubs, but his heart isn’t in it.

“Shizun...”

Shen Qingqiu ‘tsks’. “Did you hear me? Shizun will understand what you want even if you don’t say anything.”

Luo Binghe nods.

Ask me your question again when you remember it, Shen Qingqiu resolutely doesn’t say.

—————

When Shang Qinghua arrives, Luo Binghe is again asleep on the bed. It’s the easiest solution in Shen Qingqiu’s head. If he’s asleep, he can’t cause trouble. And Shen Qingqiu can spend the time without worrying over Luo Binghe worrying over what news Shang Qinghua will bring him.

Shen Qingqiu can imagine what he must look like. And judging by the expression on Shang Qinghua’s face, it must be even worse than that.

“Bro, you look like shit.”

Shen Qingqiu glares. “Get out.”

“You called me here!” Shang Qingqiu says. “I was just worried about you, but okay, sure. I’m the annoying one.”

Shen Qingqiu exhales. He figures with someone like Shang Qinghua, it’s better to ignore whatever comes out of his mouth and just get right to the point. “I’m fine. But I’m sure you came here with something to say. Have you found out anything?”

“I actually did, thank you very much.”

Shen Qingqiu makes a ‘go on’ gesture.

Shang Qinghua clears his throat, instantly looking wary. He starts slow, like he’s slowly approaching a feral cat in a backend alleyway. Shen Qingqiu internally rolls his eyes.

“Now first of all,” Shang Qinghua starts, “I just want to make the disclaimer that whatever you’re about to hear is not bad news at all. For normal people I mean, who are upfront about their feelings and honest with them, and in tune with their own emotions.”

It takes Shen Qingqiu a herculean effort to keep his voice pleasant. “Wonderful. I’m not going to ask what you mean by that.”

“I didn’t even explain to you yet though?” Shang Qinghua grins. “Unless you don’t want me to anymore.”

Shen Qingqiu wants to say he’s happy that somewhere along the line Shang Qinghua had learned what a backbone was. He’s not. His blank face must do something to Shang Qinghua, though, because he rushes to continue speaking.

“Okay, so as you might have already guessed, this is,” he coughs weakly, “only partially my fault.”

“I’ll decide that after your done explaining.”

Shang Qinghua shrugs. “Worth a shot. Anyways, I made a list of everything I could remember that still hasn’t happened yet, which wasn’t a lot, because, you understand bro right? I wrote so much. Like. So much. The only person who would remember any of that stuff anyways is you, but. I digress. I eventually figured it out, because I am your best transmigration bro who will stop at nothing to help you when you are in need—”

“This won’t warm me up to you,” Shen Qingqiu says with a raised eyebrow.

Shang Qinghua curses softly under his breath. “Man. Okay, okay. As you may have already guessed, you are definitely living through one of my undrafted plot points by now. Or, like I said, fic material. Whatever.”

“And last I recalled, I asked you to find new information for me.”

Shang Qinghua nods, eyes wide. “Which I did! I mean, I don’t know. I was just trying to get by, you already know that. I thought that maybe one day, Luo Binghe would meet one of those, like, tsundere wives, that refused to confess to Luo Binghe even though she was totally in love with him, because of course she was, because like, who wouldn’t and—”

“Get to the point.”

“Right. So anyways, Luo Binghe would fall into some illness in front of her, the only time ever in the entire novel mind you, and she’d feel so guilty that she’d confess to him right then and there.”

Shen Qingqiu frowns. “What caused him to get sick? That she didn’t confess, or was it something else?”

Shang Qinghua brightens. “See, that’s the thing! Luo Binghe liked her a lot too!”

“...As in?”

Shang Qinghua waves his hand. “You know...”
Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “So you’re telling me he liked her back? Why was that a plot point? He liked Ning Yingying and Liu Mingyan as his wives too.”

“Yes, but this was more than that. Even though he married them, you already know he never really, well, had the most favorable view on women.”

Shen Qingqiu raises his eyebrow.

Shang Qinghua huffs. “You get the idea, I’m sure. Listen, I ended up ditching it since genuine love or whatever didn’t sell. He can’t fall in love with someone and still be the protagonist of Proud Immortal Demon Way.” He looks at Shen Qingqiu pointedly. “Case in point.”

Shen Qingqiu pulls out his fan. At the sight of it, Shang Qinghua winces. “Don’t hit me!”

Shen Qingqiu does it anyway. “Does that plot point even make sense?! Why would he fall in love with someone that late into the story? And why with some irrelevant cannon fodder?! Why not someone like Ning Yingying? At the very least one of the earlier lives that he would have had time to actually create a connection with! Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, do you have a brain?”

Shang Qinghua opens his mouth.

“Do not answer that.”

Shang Qinghua closes it.

Shen Qingqiu rubs a hand down his face. “Okay, fine. So you’re telling me some of your stories don’t actually end with pages of ridiculous—”

“Listen! This was supposed to be romantic!”

“Romantic my—”

“No need to be uncouth, Cucumber-bro!”

“If you would let me finish a sentence, I’ll show you uncouth.”

Shang Qinghua frowns. “Look, I get it. You’re upset that Luo Binghe is sick and you’re taking it out on me.”

Shen Qingqiu squints.

“It’s not my fault!” Shang Qinghua continues to insist.

Shen Qingqiu smiles. “Go ahead then. Tell me, how exactly, that a plot point that you wrote being played out and causing the suffering of others isn’t your fault, because I, for one, would love to hear this. Maybe if your reasoning is good enough, I’ll consider not hitting you.”

Shang Qinghua makes a pathetic noise. “You already hit me.”

Shen Qingqiu lets the smile on his face drop in exchange for sighing, aggravated. “Nevermind. That’s not the important thing right now.” He takes a moment to process everything Shang Qinghua has told him. “Airplane.”

“Um,” Shang Qinghua says. “That would be me, yes.”

“If what you’re telling me is accurate—”

“Which it is.”

“If what you’re telling me is accurate,” Shen Qingqiu says again. “You’re telling me that he’s lovesick.”

“Um... Yes?”

“Are you asking me?”

Shang Qinghua only laughs awkwardly. “What answer do you want to hear?”

Shen Qingqiu raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t be like this...”

Shen Qingqiu ignores him. “Let me guess the cure.”

Shang Qinghua winces. “I’d rather you didn’t. But before you try, it’s not what you think!”

“Oh? Then would you like to tell me the cure yourself?”

“You don’t have to sound so disbelieving,” Shang Qinghua says in mock offense. Or it could be real offense, Shen Qingqiu isn’t sure.

Right now, though, he could care less. “The cure, Airplane. Tell it to me.”

I will,” Shang Qinghua says petulantly, “when you start being nice to me.”

“I won’t.”

Shang Qinghua sighs. “Yeah, I expected as much.”

“Well?”

Shang Qinghua scratches the back of his neck, and mumbles a few words beneath his breath.

“What was that?” Shen Qingqiu asks.

“Well,” Shang Qinghua says, louder this time. “You just have to.. Ahem.”

“Spit it out, please.”

“Tell him you love him.”

Shen Qingqiu stares at his abomination for a... a friend. “Excuse me?”

Shang Qinghua scratches the back of his neck. “Telling him that you love him is enough. I’m surprised he hasn’t already been cured yet.” Then, because Shang Qinghua has a death sentence, he makes a pointed look at Shen Qingqiu. “Actually, considering how much I know about you Cucumber-bro, I’m actually not that surprised at all.”

“I hope your not surprised when my fan meets the back of your head again.”

“Hey! You don’t need to be like that just because your boyfriend has a love-induced cold."

Shen Qingqiu blanks out.

With utmost restraint, is able to ignore only half of that statement. "My what."

What boyfriend? For that to be the case, Shen Qingqiu would have to actually be-

Be—

Dating Luo Binghe.

It's not like they didn't not fall under that umbrella, Shen Qingqiu amends after a moment of preventing a self-induced conniption. He and Luo Binghe live together, sleep together, and do the whole... kissing and hand holding that Shen Qingqiu’s only ever known in fiction.

So technically speaking, they are doing all the things that people who date usually do. He thinks.

But that doesn’t mean they are dating.

Besides, it didn’t quite sound right. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t think he could describe what he and Luo Binghe are as just dating. It didn’t even begin to encompass the scope of everything. In Shen Qingqiu’s opinion.

Shang Qinghua rolls his eyes. "Sorry. Husband.”

Shen Qingqiu can’t hear him. Whatever word Shang Qinghua has said right now, Shen Qingqiu will just pretend that he has not heard a single thing. That’s all. Some point throughout this conversation, Shen Qingqiu has gone deaf specifically to the voice of the man in front of him. That’s the only explanation.

Shang Qinghua smirks. “Ah, Cucumber-bro,” he sighs out, “Your face says it all. I always expected you guys would be the eloping type."

“Shang Qinghua.”

“Young love truly is a wonderful thing—”

“Shang Qinghua.”

Shang Qinghua’s smirk fades at the tone of Shen Qingqiu’s voice. “Wait. For real? Are you guys really not—”

“I’m going to ask you a question, and you are going to answer with utmost sincerity.”

“Uh, what? Where are you going with this? I mean, sure, yeah I guess, but, still.”

Shen Qingqiu takes a deep breath. “Shang Qinghua, do you seek death that badly?”

“Um... no? Wait was that the question you wanted me to ask? Wait, Cucumber-bro, just stay where you are okay? Haha, no need to come closer. Come on, aren’t we like brothers? Maybe you should take a few steps back and not treat your brother like this?”

“Who’s my brother?”

“Cucumber-bro— OW.” Shang Qinghua rubs his head. “That hurt.”

“You deserved it,” Shen Qingqiu replies smoothly.

Luo Binghe, none the wiser, mumbles something in his sleep, just loud enough to capture both their attentions. It makes both Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua still, but all Luo Binghe does is furrow his eyebrows.

Shen Qingqiu reaches over to smooth it out before he thinks any better of it.

He makes a pointed glance at Shang Qinghua to get him to stop staring.

“Shut up.”

Shang Qinghua flails. “I didn’t do anything! Again!”

Shen Qingqiu shushes him. “Your face is too loud. You’ll wake him up.”

“My face is too— Bro. How can you act like that and then turn around and tell me you two aren’t married. I’ve been calling you guys husbands in my head this whole time!”

“Didn’t I already tell you to drop this?”

“No, you beat me up for continuing it.”

“Same thing.”

Shang Qinghua rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why I try with you, bro. You’re beyond help now. As black as they come! And here I thought you wanted to hear everything I found out!”

Shen Qingqiu raises an eyebrow. “There’s more?”

“Well,” Shang Qinghua starts. And subsequently deflates. “No,” he mumbles out.

Shen Qingqiu sighs. “Will the symptoms get any worse than this after I... do the thing?”

“Not really,” Shang Qinghua says thoughtfully. “Once you, uh, confess, he might... be a little out of it some more, and probably his temperature will fluctuate for a while. But all normal sick person things! I think.”

“You think.”

“Uh, I know. I meant to say that.”

“Better.”

Shang Qinghua groans. “Well, he’s going to get worse before it gets better. You know, like every other sickness ever. Dude, have you never been sick before?”

Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes. If only he knew. Not that Shen Qingqiu would ever give Shang Qinghua the gory details. There was only so much of his past life he even cared to think about anymore, not when he had a future to look forward to in this one.

“How long will it take for him to heal once he’s cured?”

“A day, maybe?”

Shen Qingqiu pinches his nose. “A day. Okay. We’re done here. Leave.”

Shang Qinghua grumbles like he expected this development. “Not even a thank you?”

“Thanks,” Shen Qingqiu grits out.

Shang Qinghua huffs. “But don’t forget; You still owe me one. You said so.”

Shen Qingqiu is really and truly surrounded by children.

“Shang Qinghua,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Unless you want to be here when Luo Binghe wakes up, I suggest you leave while I’m still being nice.”

“You’re never nice to me though?”

Shen Qingqiu raises an eyebrow.

Shang Qinghua stiffens. “Fine! I’m going! See if I ever come to help you again.”

He walks out of the bamboo house, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Not a moment later, Shang Qinghua pops his head back in. “Do you still want to read over my manuscript? I finished it two days ago.”

Shen Qingqiu sighs. “When have I ever said no? Have someone send it over at your earliest convenience.”

“You’re the best, bro!”

The corner of Shen Qingqiu’s lips quirk up. “I know.”

—————

With Shang Qinghua finally gone, there’s only one thing left to focus on.

He turns to Luo Binghe. Tell him you love him, Shang Qinghua had said. Like it’s easy. Was dying for him, multiple times at that, not enough?!

Apparently not, some part of Shen Qingqiu’s mind supplies.

Shen Qingqiu’s face burns. Might as well get it over with. “This Master... loves you, Binghe.”

He holds his breath for a beat. And then two.

He says it one more time for good measure.

When he puts the back of his hand to Luo Binghe’s forehead, it still burns something fierce.

Shen Qingqiu frowns. The dejection that Luo Binghe isn’t immediately healed from the all-encompassing powers of love is... much larger than Shen Qingqiu had hoped it would be.

Suddenly, Luo Binghe starts shivering.

“I’ll go get you another blanket,” Shen Qingqiu says immediately. There is probably one in Luo Binghe’s old room, he thinks to himself. It’s probably not too dusty, considering Luo Binghe’s cleaning habits.

Inside, the blanket is folded up on the edge of the tiny bed Luo Binghe used to sleep in. Shen Qingqiu would be lying if being in this room again didn’t awaken some pre-abyss nostalgia. His white lotus had grown up here, after all.

Shen Qingqiu raises an eyebrow when he finally gets closer to the bed. There’s a piece of paper stuffed in between the folds, a small piece of the room that looks as though it doesn’t quite belong.

He pulls out the piece of paper curiously, and tosses the blanket over the length of his arm.

Shen Qingqiu blinks. He... has no idea what he's looking at.

It's a piece of paper, written in Luo Binghe's handwriting. Except, for once, the handwriting is sloppy, rather than the pristine one that Shen Qingqiu has taught him to write with. But, it doesn’t... look like Luo Binghe was writing it in a rush.

Even when Luo Binghe was hurrying to do paperwork, especially if it was for Shen Qingqiu, he still took his time to make sure his hand was steady when he wrote things down. Here, some of the strokes are uneven, and large blots of inks are scattered throughout like the writer took too many pauses to figure out which words to write.

Maybe not rushing then, Shen Qingqiu amends, finally taking note of the content of the paper itself. His face heats up. Maybe... nervous.

Starting from the bottom, it appears to be a list of activities. A to-do list of sorts. One reads "while having tea with Shizun"; another reads "while on a walk"; another still, says "write a letter if all else fails".

At the top reads:

How To Tell Shizun I Love Him

And Shen Qingqiu understands.

—————

Retrospectively, everything from that day that Luo Binghe started to get sick suddenly makes sense. How Luo Binghe seemed to have something to tell him all day, but he either backed out of it at the last second, or something made it so that he was unable to say anything at all.

Silly, silly man. Why would he try to do everything in one day? If it didn't work on one day, then he should have just tried on the next? Why even go to such lengths at all?

More than that, Luo Binghe must have planned it for that day in particular. To Shen Qingqiu's recollection, there was nothing particular that happened worth remembering. No anniversaries or birthdays, just an arbitrary day. Luo Binghe must have just been waiting for Shen Qingqiu's next trip back to Qing Jing. Which he supposes makes sense just as well. Luo Binghe is sentimental enough to pick the place where he and Shen Qingqiu first met.

Shen Qingqiu holds the paper to his lips.

He can imagine Luo Binghe writing it. Even with Shen Qingqiu in the same room, making sure the paper was just far enough that he would be unable to read it,
Something about Luo Binghe and his unending earnestness makes a smile pull at Shen Qingqiu’s lips despite his best efforts.

As it turns out, sappiness is infectious.

A weak cough from Luo Binghe reminds him that he has taken far too long. He pockets the letter into his sleeves and exits the side room.

“Oh,” Shen Qingqiu says. Luo Binghe stares back at him. “You’re awake.”

Luo Binghe opens his mouth. “Cold...”

“Shizun brought you a blanket,” Shen Qingqiu responds, opening it and tossing it over Luo Binghe’s body.

"Is Binghe thirsty?"

"Where did Shizun go?" Luo Binghe asks instead. His eyes turn watery within moments.

Shen Qingqiu doesn't have the heart to scold him for it. "Shizun is right here." He walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. He places the back of a hand on Luo Binghe's forehead. Still hot, he notes, but infinitely cooler than it was a few moments ago.

"Don't leave," Luo Binghe says.

"Haven't we been through this before?" Shen Qingqiu asks.

Luo Binghe's bottom lip juts out. He sniffles. "Is that— does that bother Shizun?"

Shen Qingqiu's heart starts thumping at the sight. Ah, Luo Binghe, have you no shame! You're making this old man's heart race!

Shen Qingqiu scoffs. He lifts his hand from Luo Binghe's forehead and replaces it with his lips. If he didn’t know any better, he would have said Luo Binghe grew even warmer under his touch.

Shen Qingqiu pulls back to look at Luo Binghe again. "If it did, I would have told you to stop a long time ago. Binghe shouldn't worry about such things. He can ask for reassurance. Shizun won't leave."

One errant tear slips down Luo Binghe's face, down the sides of his eyes and to his ears. Shen Qingqiu kisses the area where the tear fell.

"Do you want to sleep more?" Shen Qingqiu asks, leaning back. "Or try and eat something?"

"I'm not hungry," Luo Binghe says. Then after a moment he adds, "I’m not tired either."

Really, it was like watching over a child. But then again. Shen Qingqiu would put his gold on the fact that, at least in front of him, some part of Luo Binghe would always act like this in front of him.

"Okay," Shen Qingqiu says agreeably. "Do you have the strength to sit up? I'll get you some water instead."

"No need,” Luo Binghe insists. “Just... Shizun, could you come here?”

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t put up a fight, lying down next to Luo Binghe.

For the first time in the last three days, Shen Qingqiu falls asleep comfortably.

—————

The next morning, Shen Qingqiu opens his eyes to a Luo Binghe, already awake, blessedly without the feverish haze that’s been following him for the past few days, holding him against his chest.

Shen Qingqiu groans tiredly, and weakly tries to push him away. It is still the middle of the summer, and being this close to a living furnace isn’t helping the situation in the slightest. “I take it you’re feeling better,” he manages to say.

Luo Binghe snuggles closer. “I’ve caused Shizun trouble.”

“It’s not like I mind it,” Shen Qingqiu says. Then, worried Luo Binghe might take it the wrong way, clarifies, “Taking care of Binghe is no trouble for me.”

Luo Binghe frowns. “I will make it up to Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes. The nerve of Luo Binghe to ignore everything he’s saying! “Make what up, exactly? There aren’t any debts between us to be repaid.”

“Still,” Luo Binghe insists. “Shizun worked hard for this one. It is only right to return that favor.”

“Do you even remember anything that’s happened?”

Luo Binghe deflates. “No,” he says. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know if what he feels is relief or disappointment. “But,” Luo Binghe continues. “I can still make it up to Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu raises an eyebrow. “Okay. And how will you do that if you can’t even remember what it is you’re making it up to me for?”

At that, Luo Binghe brightens. “What is it that Shizun desires? If it is territory or riches or meals, please let me know at once. This one willmost definitely be able to acquire it for you .”

Shen Qingqiu mentally rolls his eyes. What would he want any of those things for? He’s happy with the land he can call his own on Qing Jing Peak and the large home they occupy in the demon realm, he’s the peak lord of the richest cultivation sects, and he’s an immortal who doesn’t need to eat!

Shen Qingqiu repeats those reasons back at Luo Binghe, who pauses as if he had not seen any flaws in his plan until Shen Qingqiu had pointed them out.

Silly, Shen Qingqiu thinks fondly. “Anything I could ever want or need, Binghe being here already provides. Should there ever be a time that Binghe feels as though he needs to right a wrong, or make something up to me, he doesn’t have to do anything but be with me.”

Shen Qingqiu’s brain screams at him with the words. What nonsense did he just spout?!

Perhaps the mind-numbing romantic garbage in the original Proud Immortal Demon Way is finally shutting down his brain.

Luo Binghe looks down into his lap, tilting his head forward so that his hair falls over his eyes. “Shizun...”

Like this, Shen Qingqiu can’t see Luo Binghe biting back a shaky smile, but he knows from the sniff he gives and the way his hands clench the blanket like a lifeline that that must be what he’s doing anyways.

Shen Qingqiu touches Luo Binghe’s chin, using only the slightest of pressures to tilt his head up.

Luo Binghe’s eyes are bright and teary, cheeks pink and face soft.

Well, Shen Qingqiu thinks, if getting a reaction like this is the worst thing that comes out of spilling a romantic litany Luo Binghe, it’s not the worst thing in the world.

“On that note,” Shen Qingqiu starts, and trails off until Luo Binghe makes a questioning noise.

“There is something this master would like to ask you.”

Luo Binghe nods immediately.

Shen Qingqiu reaches into his sleeves and pulls out the paper, folded neatly into a small square.

“I found this last night,” he says. “Do you want to tell me what this was all about?”

Luo Binghe takes the paper and looks at it curiously. He pales once he gets a proper glance at it. “This...”

“Is the reason you’ve been bedridden,” Shen Qingqiu finishes.

Luo Binghe blinks. “What?”

Shen Qingqiu smiles wryly, and explains it to Luo Binghe briefly, who grows redder with the explanation. “So it was like that.”

“Indeed.”

Luo Binghe coughs awkwardly. “Shizun, I just wanted to do it right.”

Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “As if there’s a wrong way to do it.”

More than that, was this something to be so stressed over to actually get him sick?! Luo Binghe could have said it in the middle of reading a book, and it would have been fine! Hell, he could not have said it at all, and Shen Qingqiu would have known. Isn’t that how it worked, with these sort of things?

But then again. Maybe this was good for them too. Their relationship was built on lies and misunderstanding. After ten years of that, give or take, Shen Qingqiu thinks that there are bound to be some things that the two of them should be able to say point-blank to each other. No matter how obvious it seems.

Well, it’s not like they don’t have the time to say everything, Shen Qingqiu thinks, some half-baked thought of eternity and immortality and being together for the rest of their lives forming in his head.

They’ll work on it.

—————

coda

Several months later, Shen Qingqiu lies in bed with a Luo Binghe that he has, more or less, eloped with.

He has never imagined what a marriage with Luo Binghe would have looked like, but he can’t say he’s unhappy with how everything has turned out.

“Did you know,” Shen Qingqiu starts conversationally, “This isn’t your first proposal to me?”

Luo Binghe snaps up in bed. “What?”

Shen Qingqiu smiles. “You proposed before to me. Don’t tell me you don’t remember,” he says.

“Shizun, I— when did this happen? This one doesn’t remember. Was it recently?”

Luo Binghe spits out several more questions in quick succession.

Shen Qingqiu can’t help it; he laughs softly.

Luo Binghe frowns. “Is Shizun being honest?”

“Of course I am,” Shen Qingqiu says. “I remember the words very well.”

Luo Binghe bites his lip. “Shizun, I truly can’t remember.”

“How could you? You could barely get out of bed then without my help.”

It takes a second for Luo Binghe to remember the memory. He flushes. “Shizun said I didn’t do anything embarrassing.”

“I guess I did say that,” Shen Qingqiu says with a smile.

“Shizun!”

“Will it make you feel better if I said I wasn’t embarrassed by Binghe?”

Luo Binghe brings up both of his hands to cover his face. “Shizun...” He mumbles.

Shen Qingqiu laughs softly, heart light. It’s a good feeling.