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Shen Qingqiu kept a calm face as he agreed to the Old Palace Master’s request of thirty days’ imprisonment preceding trial and allowed the Huan Hua Palace disciples to tie him up with the Immortal Binding Cables. For the sake of the Sun and Moon Dew plant body and peace between the sects, it was best not to fight. He allowed himself a fleeting glance at Luo Binghe’s face but couldn’t find any trace of smugness or triumph. Odd—maybe he was saving the vicious satisfaction for when Shen Qingqiu was truly dead, instead of well in hand.

As they made the final knot to cut off Shen Qingqiu’s qi, Liu Qingge stepped forward. “I’m going with you.”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyebrow twitched slightly. Didn’t he just tell you all to let it be? “Liu-shidi is not being accused of anything.”

The Old Palace Master affected a look of shocked dismay. “Has Cang Qiong gotten so big it believes that Huan Hua Palace will be easily intimidated?”

“Of course not,” Yue Qingyuan said amiably. “As a gesture of goodwill, Cang Qiong Mountain Sect would be honored for Huan Hua Palace to house two of its esteemed Peak Lords. It would be unfortunate if anything were to threaten the validity of the trial, especially with such a lengthy preparation.”

The Old Palace Master smiled in a baring of teeth. “Sect Leader Yue is wise. Of course, Huan Hua Palace would never want to inconvenience our sister sect by compromising its leadership. The trial will be held in one week, after which you can have your War God back.”

This whole situation was a headache, but one Shen Qingqiu expected and was responsible for, so he could only sigh and shake his head.

“I’ll be troubling shidi, then,” Shen Qingqiu said.

~

The Water Prison was a full-on xianxia James Bond prison that could only be improved if the acid moat around his stone platform was infested with sharks, which was a thought he immediately banished, lest Shang Qinghua somehow picked up on it. If Airplane-bro could think up the absurd world of <<Proud Immortal Demon Way>> while living in their home world, Shen Qingqiu shuddered to think what he could come up with after living here. Would that be Schrödinger’s xianxia or Picasso’s? It was bound to be surreal, but he couldn’t know how surreal unless Shang Qinghua started writing again.

Shen Qingqiu's reverie was broken when one of the Huan Hua Palace disciples threw a stray stone into the acid, dissolving the stone with a loud hiss. The stench was strong enough to make a person’s nostril hairs shrivel up and fall out.

The thuggish disciple crossed his arms, turning to smirk at Shen Qingqiu. “Did you see that? That’s what will happen to you if you try to escape.”

Liu Qingge growled, drawing Cheng Luan a few centimeters out of its sheath. Shen Qingqiu bodily lodged himself between Liu Qingge and the Huan Hua Palace disciples, who had both staggered backwards. The thuggish one nearly tripped over his own feet into the acid moat.

Shen Qingqiu felt beads of sweat form on the back of his neck. Great Master Liu! Why are you growling and attacking people? Are you a dog?!

“Shidi, sheathe your sword,” Shen Qingqiu said.

Liu Qingge didn’t try to get around him, but he didn’t put his sword away, either, staring intently at Shen Qingqiu’s face. Shen Qingqiu schooled his expression into determined confidence.

“Sheath. Your. Sword.”

Liu Qingge scoffed but complied, lowering tensions enough for Shen Qingqiu to politely kick everyone out of his prison cell. As they left, the thuggish disciple pulled a couple of levers to isolate the platform and surround it with an acid curtain. He settled himself down to meditate.

At night, when Shen Qingqiu tried to tune out the discomfort of having his limbs bound, the discomfort of having a Without A Cure attack go untreated, and the hunger from not being able to practice inedia, the cascade of the acid curtain around his platform was like a soothing lullaby.

Ha.

If Liu Qingge was a dog, at least he was a good guard dog. Shen Qingqiu thought he heard Liu Qingge calling someone an “ungrateful mutt,” which he assumed was Luo Binghe, since Liu Qingge would have been more respectful to anyone from Cang Qiong Mountain and Shen Qingqiu didn’t know anyone at Huan Hua Palace well enough for them to be “ungrateful.” In fact, he barely saw or heard from anyone outside of a visibly nervous Gongyi Xiao who was acting as Shang Qinghua’s mailman.

Gongyi Xiao’s robes were rumpled, and his sword was missing, which must have been Liu Qingge’s work. Gongyi Xiao bowed politely, handed him the letter, bowed again, and hightailed it out of there so quickly Shen Qingqiu wondered if he was being timed.

In an almost unintelligible mix of stilted English, pinyin, and Chinese, Shang Qinghua tearfully apologized for the failure of the Sun and Moon Dew plant body. He'd tried to speed up the growth with an experimental fertilizer, he said, but it worked too well—the body ripened, then overripened and started to rot. Shen Qingqiu balled up the letter and threw it into the acid.

That was fine. This was fine. He would just sit here by himself and wait for Luo Binghe to come after him or for his case to go to trial, whichever came first.

On the morning of his trial, Gongyi Xiao showed up again, this time relatively unruffled and carrying a small knife on his belt and a bowl in his hands. “Greetings to Immortal Master Shen.”

“Good morning, Gongyi Xiao.”

“Please allow this one to remove the rope, and then Immortal Master Shen can eat before the trial starts.”

Shen Qingqiu nodded. Gongyi Xiao put down the bowl long enough to sever the ties, apologizing the whole time, while Shen Qingqiu took the time to shake some feeling back into his arms before he would accept the bowl. When Gongyi Xiao passed it to him, Shen Qingqiu blinked hard. This was—it looked like—was this Luo Binghe’s congee?

He ate bites slowly. It tasted the same, and Luo Binghe’s cooking was unparalleled, but why would he take the time to cook for his traitorous former master? Binghe had already fed him heavenly demon blood, poison wasn't the protagonist’s style, and even if he had favored poisons, there was no reason to believe the trial wouldn't end in his favor, so why…?

His heart tightened in his chest. It must have been the fear of his upcoming execution.

Gongyi Xiao took the bowl back when he finished, giving him a few moments to straighten out his robes and smooth down his hair before leading him from the platform, at which point they were joined by Liu Qingge and the Little Palace Mistress. From the corner of his eye, Shen Qingqiu saw Gongyi Xiao pass the bowl to a nearby servant.

“You should count yourself lucky,” the Palace Mistress said with a sneer. “Scum like you should be executed without hesitation.”

“Watch your tongue,” Liu Qingge said.

“Liu-shidi, don’t fight,” Shen Qingqiu murmured. Liu Qingge’s forehead crinkled, and Shen Qingqiu amused himself by wondering how confusing that concept must be to a man whose cultivation centered around fighting things. Either that, or his reaction was another holdover from Liu Qingge’s experiences with the original goods. Shen Jiu would probably say something equal parts elegant and bitchy to the Palace Mistress to put her in her place, but this Shen Qingqiu had neither the energy nor the interest. “Many thanks for Huan Hua Palace’s benevolence.”

Liu Qingge scowled deeper, but the Little Palace Mistress stuck her nose in the air and turned to ignore him. With the Little Palace Mistress in the lead, Liu Qingge next to him, and Gongyi Xiao fluttering behind like an anxious mother hen, their little procession wound its way through the corridors and into the main area of the sect. They'd chosen to host the trial in the grand hall so that Shen Qingqiu’s humiliation could be displayed in full glory.

They reached a large pair of ornate double doors which were thrown open to reveal the other ten Peak Lords, a number of Cang Qiong disciples (mostly from Qing Jing Peak, but a smattering of other Peaks and all of the Head Disciples), a crowd of Huan Hua Palace elders and disciples, and an assortment of esteemed cultivators from Zhao Hua Temple, Tian Yi Overlook, and a few smaller sects. All in all, there were a hundred witnesses (give or take) standing in a painfully obvious us-versus-them formation.

Shen Qingqiu drank in Yue Qingyuan’s steady confidence, Shang Qinghua’s anxiety, Qi Qingqi’s wary support, Ming Fan’s fearful determination, and Ning Yingying’s unexpected fierceness, as if she—like Liu Qingge and Yue Qingyuan—was only a moment from drawing her sword and telling Huan Hua Palace where to stick their allegations.

Looking at his disciples, Shen Qingqiu felt stirrings of pride. Even when the trial ended and he was either executed or stuffed in some dank hole somewhere from which he could never return, they’d be able to stand without him. He’d made plenty of mistakes both as a person and as a teacher, but at least he could leave knowing they’d survive and continue growing in his absence.

The Huan Hua contingent stood on the side of the hall across from Cang Qiong. A blank-faced Luo Binge and a teary-eyed Qiu Haitang stood between them and the front of the hall, where the Old Palace Master held a carved wooden box between his hands.

“There he is,” the Old Palace Master said. “Many thanks to Immortal Master Shen for joining us.”

What was with that opening line? Was this a trial or a banquet?

Gongyi Xiao silently fell back and rejoined the Huan Hua contingent, while the Little Palace Mistress glared at Shen Qingqiu before flouncing off to stand with her father, leaving Shen Qingqiu standing in the middle of the hall with Liu Qingge.

“Thanks to Liu-shidi for his guidance,” Shen Qingqiu said quietly, meaning, ‘it’s already come to this, you can leave now.’ Liu Qingge narrowed his eyes but took his place next to Yue Qingyuan, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Immortal Master Shen must be tired after the ordeal of the past few days; he should take a seat,” the Old Palace Master said, releasing one hand from the box to gesture at a nearby chair that stood in plain sight of the rest of the hall. It almost looked like a throne, so it must have been the Old Palace Master’s usual seat for receiving visitors and petitions.

Wordlessly, Shen Qingqiu complied. The hall seemed even bigger from the dais.

“In a normal trial, there would be the presentation of arguments and evidence,” the Old Palace Master said, which was not a particularly auspicious start. “However, given the age of some of the charges and the accommodations we have made for the sake of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, we have decided to forgo the usual process and use the Gemstone of Insight and Clarity instead.”

F*ck!

That was bad news, that was very bad news! In all likelihood, the scrutiny from Cang Qiong and flimsiness of the available evidence had pushed the Old Palace Master into revealing this heavenly treasure, which was designed not to force the user to answer questions (since that would be coercion) but would signal if the given answers were true or false. The Old Palace Master couldn’t prove anything, but he was banking on his ability to corner Shen Qingqiu into a confession, and Shen Qingqiu, at best, relied on half-truths and deliberate obfuscation.

The Old Palace Master opened the wooden box, revealing an intricate silver necklace with an opal pendant roughly the size of a fist.

“Does Immortal Master Shen agree to use this gemstone for trial purposes?” he asked.

“This master hardly has another choice,” Shen Qingqiu said dryly. The Old Palace Master draped the pendant over his chest and fastened it around his neck, leaning close enough for Shen Qingqiu to smell his rancid breath before he stepped away. The opal itself glowed a gentle green for a moment before dulling again, signifying that it had recognized its wearer and was now in use.

“First, a starting question to prove the artifact’s authenticity,” the Old Palace Master said. “Are you Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu, who was born by the name Shen Jiu?”

Without really meaning to, Shen Qingqiu answered, “Yes and no. I am Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu, but I am not Shen Jiu.”

There were several shocked gasps and murmurs in the room, mostly from the other sects or the Peaks with less exposure to Shen Qingqiu. The ones who knew him remembered the personality change from his “qi deviation” and were either smart enough to piece an idea together or composed enough not to react, apart from the soft, shocked inhale from Yue Qingyuan. Qiu Haitang cried out in wounded confusion. Luo Binghe didn't make a single sound.

Shen Qingqiu shut his eyes as sweat beaded along the back of his neck.

System! What am I supposed to do? Is there any way to get around the artifact?

【Host should know that any attempts to reveal his status in this world will lead to immediate account termination. Host should also be advised that any attempt on the part of the System to disable the artifact will cause the Gemstone of Insight and Clarity to fracture, resulting in suspicion and probable execution.】

Shit.

Are there any other options?

The System sweetly offered dialogue options and help tips with a punishment to be determined by the outcome of the trial. Shen Qingqiu’s other option was a (no doubt painful) execution, so he quickly jabbed the button to accept the System’s help.

He allowed himself a slow breath through the nose before opening his eyes, looking directly at the Old Palace Master.

“Oh?” the Palace Master asked. “A defendant who claims to both be and not be Shen Qingqiu. Would you like to expand on your answer? If you are not Shen Jiu, then who are you?”

“This one…was once the son of a merchant family and was gifted with a certain amount of prophetic knowledge. When this one died, a god offered Shen Jiu a chance to either continue living out a life of pain here or redeeming himself elsewhere, and when he chose to leave, that god implanted my soul into his body.”

Shen Qingqiu cried tears of blood in his heart. Bullshit, bullshit! If he were reading that kind of dogshit story online, he would have already torn into it ten times! Granted, there were elements of truth to it—Shen Qingqiu’s original family ran a successful business, and Airplane-bro ‘gifted’ him with what could be considered prophetic knowledge of this world via a dog blood stallion novel, and the System clearly had powers over life and death, the intelligence of minor antagonists and NPCs, and aspects of the environment, as well as knowing Luo Binghe’s internal state well enough to rank his anger and heartbreak levels, but that didn’t make it a god, right? Right?! And if it was a god, was that really what happened to Shen Jiu? System? System?

That uncaring god refused to answer.

The Old Palace Master smiled widely. Shen Qingqiu felt like the Palace Master was a fairytale wolf pleased by the chance to swallow someone whole. Shen Qingqiu’s color scheme was green and white, not red, thank you, and Luo Binghe already had the ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’ thing down, so he had no right to that expression. Scratch that; maybe the Old Palace Master wasn’t a wolf, he was the shark that was missing from the Water Prison’s acid moat.

“The prestigious Cang Qiong Mountain Sect didn’t notice one of their own venerated Peak Lords getting possessed?” the Palace Master asked.

Yue Qingyuan expression strained at the edges, but he kept his tone mild. “No need for baseless conjecture. Tell me, how long has Xiao—how long have you been in that body?”

Ah, poor Zhangmen-shixiong. “This one has been Shen Qingqiu for under seven years,” he said slowly. “It was not a matter of not noticing a possession—Cang Qiong screened this one several times. However, possession requires a malicious spirit willfully overtaking an unwilling body, whereas this body’s original occupant left voluntarily before a god deposited this one's soul into it without consent, so the requirements of possession were not met. There was no way that Cang Qiong's Peak Lords could have known.”

“Maybe they were ignorant of the specifics, but you’re saying that Cang Qiong knew that one of its own Peak Lords was replaced by an impostor and did nothing about it?”

Shen Qingqiu wished he had been allowed to hold onto one of his fans, whether he used it to hide his expression, gripped onto it for support, or lobbed it against the Old Palace Master’s stupid, punchable face. “Cang Qiong followed appropriate precautions and conducted themselves admirably given the situation. It is not the failings of humans if they are unable to thwart the will of the gods.”

He stole a look at Luo Binghe’s expression, which he still couldn’t read, damn him, and continued. “In fact, attempting to do so can be worse than following the original destiny.” Like losing two whole years of nurturing a plant body to house his soul, then losing his exit plan along with it.

“What should we call you, if you are not Shen Qingqiu?” Yue Qingyuan asked. Shen Qingqiu could already see the added weight of sadness and guilt settling into Yue Qingyuan’s face and onto his shoulders. Damn, damn—Yue Qingyuan had always been fond of the original goods, even if the new one never understood why.

“This one still considers himself Shen Qingqiu, but he was born under the name Shen Yuan. Any forms of address can be left to discretion.”

“Shen?” Yue Qingyuan asked softly.

Shen Qingqiu grimaced. “It’s the same character, but there is no connection between myself and the original Shen Qingqiu, as far as this one is aware.”

Actually, the more Shen Qingqiu saw his reflection, the more similarities he noticed between this body and his original form, but he couldn’t say if it was true similarity of if he had just become accustomed to Shen Jiu’s features. Either way, he didn’t want to convince them that he was Shen Jiu’s long-lost brother or something. That would be asking for trouble and even more unwanted attention, and who knew what the punishment would be if someone went digging around and discovered that Shen Yuan technically didn't exist?

Shen Qingqiu turned to Qiu Haitang, whose expression was as heart wrenching as Yue Qingyuan’s, albeit for different reasons. He softened his tone and said, “Unfortunately, this one cannot answer for anything the original Shen Qingqiu may have done regarding the Qiu Estate or Wu Yanzi, as any of the answers given would be conjecture rather than a personal account. Still, if you would let me, for what it’s worth—I’m sorry for your loss.”

If this were the original novel, Luo Binghe would make a grand speech condemning Shen Qingqiu’s wickedness, vow to protect Qiu Haitang from evil, and sweep her into his arms (and, later, his harem) for some good old-fashioned physical comfort. Instead, he was just as quiet as the rest of the onlookers.

Qiu Haitang turned her face away, digging her nails into her arms through the layers of her robes. Yue Qingyuan, Qiu Haitang—they both deserved closure and Shen Qingqiu wished he could provide that, even if he suspected that the truth was more complicated than Qiu Haitang claimed, knowingly or unknowingly. If Qiu Janluo ever truly considered Shen Jiu as an equal, he would have allowed him more freedoms and wouldn’t have worried that Shen Jiu would take off the second he got another option. If Shen Jiu loved Qiu Haitang and wanted to marry her, there would be reason to fear that he would break their engagement.

Qin Wanyue wrapped an arm around Qiu Haitang’s shoulders and stroked her arm, murmuring softly in her ear. Qin Wanyue led her away from the dais and into the body of the Huan Hua contingent. Shen Qingqiu sighed and remained silent, looking down at his hands where they laid primly in his lap.

When Shen Qingqiu offered Qiu Haitang his condolences, he felt a bit of the Shen Jiu mask fall. He wasn’t an aloof immortal who knew how to comfort the grieving, he was just a spoiled rich kid who died before the age of twenty-five. He lost his family (or his family lost him), but it wasn’t violent and had been coming for a long time. Her suffering was far out of his depth.

“How convenient,” the Old Palace Master said. Goodbye, emotional moment! “Does Shen Yuan have a neat answer for everything?”

Shen Qingqiu clenched and unclenched his jaw, lifting his gaze again. “The Palace Master should remember who chose this method of questioning. It is not this one’s fault if the Palace Master doesn’t like the outcome.”

The Old Palace Master made a dismissive gesture. “Even if we set the charges relating to the Qiu Estate aside, Shen Yuan still has two crimes to account for.”

“This one was not responsible for the sowers at Jinlan City.”

“No? Then how can Shen Yuan explain his sudden recovery from infection? Did your god heal you?”

There was a slight buzz in Shen Qingqiu’s head, like the System was either amused or annoyed by the Old Palace Master’s condescension. He didn’t answer.

“Shidi,” Yue Qingyuan said. Shen Qingqiu felt a slight pang. Not for the first time, he felt that the sect leader was really too forgiving.

“Not a god,” Shen Qingqiu said, measuring each word. “This one was force-fed demon blood.”

There was another round of shocked, scandalized, and even a few delighted responses. Being arrested under the suspicion of colluding with demons, even getting infected and then healed by a demon, especially so soon after revealing himself as an imposter, was not doing wonders for his reputation. They were only a few steps into the trial, and he could already tell this would be years’ worth of hot gossip.

“You imposter, you’re lower than a dog!” the Little Palace Mistress cried. “First you admit to stealing a body, then you claim innocence in dealing with demons despite being so obviously guilty!”

Shen Qingqiu looked at her coolly, keeping a careful eye on her whip. “The Little Mistress must have little faith in her father if she thinks that this one can fool the Gemstone of Insight and Clarity. This one said he was not responsible for the sowers, and he was not responsible; this one said he was force-fed the blood, yet she claims it was this one’s choice.”

“How unfortunate Shen Yuan must be to have everything happen against his will,” the Old Palace Master said, faux-sympathetically. “He says he didn’t want the demon blood, and yet he neglected to tell anyone about it, and still refuses to identify the culprit.”

“This one has never colluded with demons.”

“Then why won’t you tell us who or what fed you its blood?”

“This one already told you that it was a demon’s blood.”

“But which demon? Even a simple description would do if you don’t have a name.”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyebrow twitched. The Old Palace Master certainly had a thick face if he was trying to get Shen Qingqiu to reveal a demon that the Palace Master already knew about and was actively housing. Was he an idiot? Was this a larger game? Did the Old Palace Master really think there was more than one heavenly demon running around the streets of Jinlan City during that whole debacle?

Shen Qingqiu smiled slightly. “It was yours.”

Several outraged members of Huan Hua Palace shouted at once, while members of other sects began openly gossiping, but thankfully no one drew their swords before the gemstone turned from white to red, heating until it nearly burned him through his robes.

Shen Qingqiu plucked idly at the silk. “Oh, my apologies. The Old Palace Master brought up the authenticity of the artifact before, so this one wanted to make sure that it worked. Now that we can all be sure that this one has been telling the truth: this one has never colluded with demons. This one came to Jinlan City at the behest of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect to investigate the infection, because this one is knowledgeable about demons. However unwittingly this one took the position of Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak, this one takes those responsibilities seriously.” The gemstone cooled and suffused a pure white.

Shen Qingqiu checked on the members of Cang Qiong. His disciples were confused but seemed to be considering his words. Yue Qingyuan still looked heartbroken but offered a weak smile when he noticed Shen Qingqiu looking, Liu Qingge looked as headstrong and protective as ever, Qi Qingqi seemed displeased but less wary than she had at the beginning of the trial, and Mu Qingfang seemed…almost impressed? Shang Qinghua looked weirdly queasy, like he was making himself sick from stress. Maybe he should stand closer to Mu Qingfang, or else far enough away from everyone that no one would get splashed if he threw up on the floor. The remaining disciples and Peak Lords were less affected, but there a communal bolstering from restating his loyalty and dedication to the sect. Cang Qiong protected its own.

Finally, he looked at Luo Binghe. Binghe’s expression was still unreadable, but his eyes were intense. “This master cannot claim to be without faults, whether by his own choices or by the actions demanded of him by his god, but it has never been this master’s desire to hurt anyone.”

The gemstone remained white. With the memory of the System reading him Luo Binghe’s heartbreak level, it was too much to hope that Luo Binghe would believe him, especially this version who was both his disciple and a stranger, and even more so now that Luo Binghe knew that his master was a liar above all things, but Shen Yuan couldn’t escape or lie. He could only wish that Binghe could tell that he was sorry.

Stupid. Luo Binghe was a demon lord, it wasn’t like he needed Shen Qingqiu to apologize to or protect him.

“An interesting statement, considering the remaining charge.”

Shen Qingqiu jerked his eyes back to the Old Palace Master, who arched a brow at him. “Has the false immortal master already forgotten that he’s being accused of abusing those disciples he just claimed responsibility for?”

“Generally, this master has sought to treat his disciples with more kindness than the original Shen Qingqiu did.” Shen Qingqiu felt his nails dig ever so slightly into his knees and forced his hands to relax again.

“Generally, but not always? Or, perhaps, not to all disciples?” The Palace Master circled him, blatantly predatory. Definitely a shark, then, and one that had scented blood. “How long ago was it that you claim to have replaced the true Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak?”

Condemning Shen Jiu when convenient, flattering Shen Jiu when convenient, was the Old Palace Master of <<Proud Immortal Demon Way>> always this type of character, or was Shen Qingqiu just lucky enough to bring it out in him?

“Six years, give or take a few months,” Shen Qingqiu said.

“So, you were the Shen Qingqiu at the Immortal Alliance Conference from three years ago?”

“Correct.” Shen Qingqiu breathed a little faster despite himself.

“Interesting. This Palace Master has heard a number of conflicting accounts of the Conference—Cang Qiong insists that you reported that your then-disciple Luo Binghe had been killed by demons, and your disciples insist that you fell into a deep grief like you’d ‘lost your soul.’” Shen Qingqiu’s face cracked. “And yet, this master has reason to believe that you tried to kill your disciple yourself.” He stopped circling in front of Shen Qingqiu’s chair.

Shen Qingqiu responded before the assembled crowd could start another round of theatrics. “I never tried to kill Luo Binghe.”

The gemstone stayed white. Shen Qingqiu kept looking at the Old Palace Master, but he could feel smugness rolling in from the Cang Qiong side of the hall and Luo Binghe’s piercing intensity on the other side, like storm clouds competing against the hot bright sun, creating an indescribable pressure. Shen Qingqiu had fucked up in ways that made him increasingly sick inside, but he never would have tried to kill Binghe.

“That’s right!” Ning Yingying exclaimed with bright eyes. “Shizun—that is, this Shizun—has always been fond of A-Luo. He never got over A-Luo’s…disappearance.”

Yingying, please don’t help! Weren’t you the one who started the rumor about him ‘losing his soul’ in the first place?

“Then Shen Yuan did not push Luo Binghe into the Endless Abyss?” the Old Palace Master asked.

Cang Qiong Mountain Sect radiated preemptive smugness, expecting to come ahead on this like they had on most other questions. Shen Qingqiu clenched his fists, bunching the inside of his sleeves in his palms, hiding them away so no one could see them shaking. “I did.”

The Cang Qiong contingent took a collective sharp breath. Shang Qinghua teetered ominously like he was going to faint, and Ning Yingying cried a plaintive, “Shizun!”

“How does this Shen Yuan justify sending his own disciple into the Abyss?”

“…It was unjustifiable.”

The Old Palace Master raised an eyebrow. “Shen Yuan can truly make interesting claims if he says that he took his stolen role as Peak Lord seriously without wanting to hurt anyone, and yet he would commit such an act against his own disciple.”

“I meant what I said, but my loyalty to Cang Qiong does not supersede my duty to my god.” Shen Qingqiu’s voice dipped low, becoming almost unrecognizable. “Let me be clear: when my god gave me this chance at a second life, it was not an act of kindness. It might even be considered a punishment for questioning destiny, and twice the punishment for trying to avoid it and falling into it regardless.

“At the Immortal Alliance Conference, my god made it clear that I could either subject Luo Binghe to a trial I knew he would survive, or I could die. If I was I a nobler person, I would have dropped dead. Instead, I lived for three years knowing that Luo Binghe would come back, but that I’d still killed that sweet, innocent boy with my own hands—”

Shen Qingqiu’s voice cracked and his speech broke off. He was horrified to realize that he’d started crying at some point without even a fan to shield him and with all eyes focused on his every move. Shen Qingqiu hated crying—he hadn’t cried in years before he died, much less in public, and now he had lost his remaining face in front of the higher powers of the cultivation world alongside his own disciples. What aloof immortal? What impassive face? Shen Qingqiu lifted a sleeve in front of his face as a nominal defense, even as he could hear his own small, hitched breaths ringing in his ears. In a hall full of cultivators, it was impossible to pretend that no one else could hear it too, but he couldn't seem to make himself stop.

“That’s enough.” It took Shen Qingqiu a moment to identify that quiet, powerful voice as Luo Binghe’s. “This disciple does not want to press any charges against Shizun, so this trial is over.”

“Luo Binghe has a good heart,” the Old Palace Master said, not really sounding supportive at all. “However, there are some lingering unanswered questions.”

“With all due respect, Palace Master,” Luo Binghe said, “this trial was meant to uncover whether Shizun had any criminal involvement, and at this point it is clear that he didn’t. Any remaining concerns are personal or pertain only to Cang Qiong, not for outsiders to determine.”

“That’s the first sensible statement to come out of this trial,” Yue Qingyuan said. His voice sounded firmer, so either he had adjusted to the whole ‘two Shen Qingqius’ situation or he had a kneejerk reaction to seeing Shen Qingqiu in distress. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t confirm either idea because he was still hiding behind his sleeve with no intention of making eye contact with anyone ever again, please and thank you. “Shen Qingqiu will be coming with us one way or another.”

There was a hum of light qi which suggested that Yue Qingyuan had a hand on the hilt of his sword, so the Old Palace Master had no choice but to bend. With the trial over, the crowd began to mix and talk amongst themselves.

Someone approached Shen Qingqiu’s seat after the crowd had dispersed a bit and Shen Qingqiu's breaths evened out more. He looked up, making eye contact with Luo Binghe whose face was unexpectedly close. His former disciple had reached behind him to unfasten the necklace with the Gemstone of Insight and Clarity pendant but froze as he locked eyes with his former master. Shen Qingqiu sniffled.

“Shizun, did you mean what you said back then?” he murmured.

A horribly vague question, but he thought he understood what Luo Binghe meant. “I meant it when I said that everyone has the capacity for both good and evil.” He hesitated for a moment. “I panicked at the Immortal Alliance Conference and spoke a lot of nonsense. I know my word doesn’t mean much, and I know it can’t match up to what you’ve been through the past few years, but I’m sorry. You never deserved to go through that.”

“Then why did Shizun run from this disciple? Why did he assume that this disciple was at fault?”

“Why did Binge lash out against this master if he didn’t intend to hurt him? Why hide yourself in Huan Hua Palace, a sect that hates this master and would have gladly led him to his execution?”

Binghe’s handsome face flinched slightly, and Shen Qingqiu was flooded by the same guilt as watching Xiu Ya slice through his disciple’s palm. Still, there was enough truth in his words that he couldn't take them back.

“If Shizun distrusts this disciple so much, then why didn’t he speak up earlier?” Luo Binghe asked.

Shen Qingqiu looked at him. The Luo Binghe of that afternoon looked more like his disciple, pouting and confused rather than wearing the cold, angry smile from Jinlan City. Of course Shen Qingqiu had been scared, and of course he decided to run, as shortsighted as that choice had been, but drawing Xiu Ya once and then twice was two times too many, and not just because Shen Qingqiu would lose in a physical fight.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t want to die, but he didn’t have it in him to hurt his disciple again. Not on purpose.

“Setting the Immortal Alliance Conference aside, this master has always protected you when possible.”

There was a pause as Luo Binghe looked down, eyelashes trembling. “This disciple understands,” he said and unhooked the necklace.

…Well, Shen Qingqiu was glad Luo Binghe understood, because he certainly didn’t. First Luo Binghe maybe-probably arranged his arrest, then there was that bowl of congee, and after that Luo Binghe had been strangely quiet during the trial before abruptly clearing and releasing him. Shen Qingqiu was tempted to assume it was part of a bigger plot, but a) the Luo Binghe of <<Proud Immortal Demon Way>> had been fairly straightforward in charging and imprisoning the original goods, even if he’d drawn out the imprisonment/torture/murder segment, and b) there was no reason for Luo Binghe to let him go when he was already in the palm of his hand. The Old Palace Master had accused him of pushing Binghe into the Abyss, and Shen Qingqiu had confessed; that would have been enough. Maybe Luo Binghe was luring him into a false sense of security only to work up to a larger betrayal later on like Shen Qingqiu inadvertently did to him, but looking into that face and hearing that gentle voice, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t bring himself to believe it. And yet, even if Shen Qingqiu chose to believe that Binghe was innocent, there were still so many unanswered questions about how he was brought to trial in the first place and who instructed the sowers to plant the blame on him.

He felt abruptly dizzy and disoriented. Was this even the world of <<Proud Immortal Demon Way>> anymore?

Shen Qingqiu’s gaze lingered on Luo Binghe’s back as he turned away to put the artifact back in its box, nearly missing the moment Liu Qingge walked up to him and presented him with the fan he’d given up on his arrest. Shen Qingqiu stood dazedly, wiped his face, and reached for his fan. “Thank you, Liu-shidi.”

Shen Qingqiu froze for a moment with his hand hovering over the fan, but Liu Qingge didn’t comment on the form of address, so Shen Qingqiu reached the rest of the way, grabbed it, and snapped the fan open in front of his face. Ah, sweet impassivity! Even if everyone could probably see his red rimmed eyes over the top of the fan, and there were undoubtedly still cracks in his face, it was better than nothing.

Liu Qingge looked closely at him. Liu-shidi, if you didn’t realize this master wasn’t Shen Jiu before, you weren’t going to spot the changes now! He fanned himself faster.

Finally, Liu Qingge said, “Zhangmen-shixiong has your sword.”

Shen Qingqiu nodded. The hall resounded with rioting voices—the attentive audience expected a murder mystery-slash-political drama but got bodysnatching, divine ordinances, at least two people bursting into tears, and dropped charges instead, which must have been both over- and underwhelming. Gongyi Xiao looked like he was trying to guide the Little Palace Mistress out of the hall before she started catfighting Ning Yingying as Ming Fan hovered nearby, though whether he was hovering to restrain Ning Yingying or join the fight was uncertain. Qin Wanyue and Qiu Haitang, like many others, had already disappeared. The Cang Qiong Peak Lords were already grouping up, and several disciples from Huan Hua Palace and the smaller sects glared conspicuously at Shen Qingqiu as they gossiped amongst themselves. Luo Binghe was talking to the Old Palace Master with his back facing Shen Qingqiu.

Yue Qingyuan approached with his hand still on Xuan Su’s hilt.

Shen Qingqiu snapped his fan shut, bowing stiltedly. “This one greets Sect Leader Yue.”

“Shidi doesn’t need to be so distant.”

Shen Qingqiu looked up uncertainly, but he straightened his posture when he saw the sincerity of Yue Qingyuan's expression.

“Shidi must be tired—allow this shixiong to lead you to the carriage. Liu-shidi, you should come along in case Shen-shidi needs support; he’s been bound with Immortal Binding Cables, so he’ll need you to examine his meridians.”

Liu Qingge nodded.

“Thanks to shidi and shixiong.” Shen Qingqiu glanced at Luo Binghe as he left, but couldn’t see his face. He didn’t notice Luo Binghe’s gaze turn towards him just in time to watch him leave.

~

Qi Qingqi didn’t particularly like deception for whatever reason or in whatever form, so she’d naturally kept a certain distance from Shen Qingqiu, a man who liked to cloak his feelings with bland expressions, painted fans, and sideways phrases, for all that he’d been more cordial to her than to the other Peak Lords. He knew that Qi Qingqi was strong, but her femininity meant that he never classified her as a threat, which she could never decide was more amusing or annoying. After the qi deviation, Shen Qingqiu became less invested in pretense, which made it all the more irritating when he revealed himself as an even bigger liar than the original had been. She was placated slightly by the knowledge that it wasn’t by choice, and further mollified by knowing that the replacement Peak Lord was still loyal to the sect, even if he hadn’t been brought up by it or sworn any official oaths to it.

She still rolled her eyes at Mu Qingfang, though. The man was obviously touched by the replacement Shen Qingqiu’s dedication, especially because when the Peak Lords noticed a shift in Shen Qingqiu’s behaviors from version to version, he had become more diligent in his duties and more appreciative and polite towards his martial siblings and disciples. But Mu Qingfang was a doctor, so he was allowed to be a soft touch.

Speaking of romanticizing people and events, Qi Qingqi would have been tempted to express more sympathy toward the new Shen Qingqiu if she hadn’t been standing next to Liu Mingyan during the trial. Mingyan was a talented and promising disciple, but some of her hobbies were…concerning, to say the least.

Liu Mingyan had noticed her shibo after those demon scum invaded Qiong Ding Peak when this Shen Qingqiu, apparently less than a year into his duties, had defended Qiong Ding Peak and a swarm of young disciples. Qi Qingqi would like to claim that her carefully cultivated flower bud had appreciated his nobility and steadfastness in the face of crisis, but in actuality Mingyan had obsessed over her shibo’s potentially fatal sacrifice for his disciple and how it dovetailed nicely into his transformation from one-sided rivalry to mutual friendship with her gruff brother. After the Immortal Alliance Conference, when Shen Qingqiu’s deep grief became common knowledge, Liu Mingyan had sighed soulfully and spent long hours at her writing desk.

Then the trial happened, spilling out secrets beyond even Mingyan’s imagination, and by the time Shen Qingqiu made the horrifying decision to cry in public, Qi Qingqi could already hear her disciple muttering breathlessly about damp phoenix eyes and love transcending death. She shivered.

Predictably, when Huan Hua Palace was forced into dropping that sham of a trial, Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge whisked the second Shen Qingqiu out of the hall. Unfortunately, Qi Qingqi was not the only one who noticed Shen Qingqiu’s significant glance at his former disciple turning away just in time to miss his disciple staring after him. Qi Qingqi sped out of the hall before Liu Mingyan could inflict increasingly unfortunate verses on her.

Yue Qingyuan was already stepping into the carriage by the time she caught up.

“Zhangmen-shixiong,” she said. “Is there room for one more?”

There was, and even if there hadn’t been, she would’ve forced her way in as payback for the ride to the Immortal Alliance Conference.

Qi Qingqi sat next to Yue Qingyuan and stared at Shen Qingqiu who sat diagonally across from her. She almost laughed at Liu Qingge for holding one of Shen Qingqiu’s hands, but it was cut down when she noticed that he was transferring qi, frowning slightly in concentration.

Right. He had been Shen Qingqiu for less than a year when he took a hit from a nearly fatal demonic poison with ongoing consequences to both his health and cultivation. Damn, there was the sympathy again.

No one was willing to break the silence until Liu Qingge finished cleansing Shen Qingqiu’s meridians and released his arm.

“Thank you, shidi,” Shen Qingqiu said, subtly flexing his wrist as if that brief treatment made a tangible difference.

“Is he?” she asked. “Is he your shidi? For all we know, Shen Yuan could be the age of a shidi himself, or maybe it’s the other way and we should be calling him grandmaster.”

Shen Qingqiu gave her a flat look. Good. “Qi-shimei knows that isn’t how seniority works at Cang Qiong.”

“Indulge me.” She propped her chin on her fist. “How do we know there won’t be any little Shens accusing us of stealing their father from them?”

Shen Qingqiu’s lips and the corners of his eyes tightened, which was as close as either version would allow themselves to a pained expression. “There is no chance of that happening.”

“But how do we know for sure?”

“Because in my first life I was unmarried and had no, ahem, uncouth habits.”

Qi Qingqi kept looking at him expectantly until his eye twitched. “Qi-shimei isn’t going to let go of this, is she.”

“Nope.” Let him think she was teasing, but she had to know.

Shen Qingqiu snapped his fan open in front of his face. “Assuming that my years as Shen Qingqiu can be added directly to my age at the end of my first life, this master is approximately twenty-eight years old.”

Qi Qingqi was glad that Liu Qingge and Yue Qingyuan looked unpleasantly surprised enough that she had time to scrape her own face back together. Shen Qingqiu lifted his fan slightly higher.

“It really is Shen-shidi,” she said faintly. They let an untrained and unprepared twenty-two-year-old lead the second-ranked peak. He was practically a toddler. “Does Shen Yuan realize that the original Shen Qingqiu ascended to his position when he was older than the current Shen Qingqiu is now?”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyebrow twitched. “I wasn’t clear on the specifics.”

Even if he wasn’t Shen Jiu, Qi Qingqi was dead sure that Yue Qingyuan wouldn’t be approving any trips down the mountain any time soon, at least not without his bodyweight in defense talismans and Liu Qingge’s protection besides.

“We’ll decide what to do about that later,” said Yue Qingyuan, valiantly setting aside yet another internal crisis. Qi Qingqi made a mental note to ask Mu Qingfang to check on him later. “Did your god give you any information about where Shen Jiu went when you…changed places?”

Shen Qingqiu shook his head and lowered his fan. “I’m sorry, but no.”

He probably knew, as they all knew, that Yue Qingyuan was the one taking Shen Jiu’s loss the hardest. Shen Jiu kept a distance, even a contentious distance, from most people. Everyone would have to process the information and realign their way of thinking, but she could still remember the meeting where the Peak Lords agreed that Shen Qingqiu wasn’t acting like himself and decided to drop it because he passed the possession screening and they all liked this version better. Poor Zhangmen-shixiong.

The newer Shen Qingqiu even seemed genuinely remorseful. He had always been softer than Shen Jiu, even if in hindsight he’d clearly been emulating Shen Jiu’s mannerisms. Although Shen Qingqiu was named for autumn, perhaps they should’ve called the first one Shen Qingdong and this one Shen Qingchun instead. [1]

Ah, she had definitely been spending too much time with Mingyan. There was no way a thought that transparently sentimental came from herself.

“What did shidi mean when he said he had ‘prophetic knowledge?’” Yue Qingyuan asked.

“I have an understanding of how events might have gone if I had never become Shen Qingqiu, but it was not perfect or complete, and naturally the more time that passes the more events diverge from their original path. For example, I don’t remember anything about sower demons at Jinlan City, but I don’t know if that was an omission from my original knowledge or if it’s some kind of spiral effect from other changes.”

“And a lot of it has to do with Luo Binghe,” Yue Qingyuan guessed.

Shen Qingqiu tightened and loosened his grip on his fan. “I never understood why Shen Jiu hated him so much,” he said, almost to himself. “Having him sleep in a woodshed rather than an actual room, permitting other disciples to bully him, punishing him harshly for minor infractions, even allowing him to cultivate from a manual designed to push him into qi deviation.”

He shut his eyes. “It’s a miracle that he survived before I arrived. I undid the damage as soon as I could, and he assumed that everything from before was extreme training. And then I betrayed him.”

It was an ugly but unsurprising revelation about his predecessor which also contextualized Shen Qingqiu’s grief from recent years. Qi Qingqi still thought it was excessive, but she could understand how his grief might have been compounded by guilt, regret, and futility. As incredible as his story was, Qi Qingqi believed him. It must have been a heavy weight to carry by himself, especially since he seemed determined to pretend the weight didn’t exist at all.

“I have a few questions about that,” Yue Qingyuan said. “Namely, why a god would want you to push your disciple into the Endless Abyss and how he was able to not only survive but also return to the Human Realm.”

“He’s too strong,” Liu Qingge added. “He caught five sowers.”

Qi Qingqi raised her eyebrows. If she remembered clearly, seven sowers were captured in Jinlan City with Liu Qingge’s help. For someone to outmatch Liu Qingge…

“As I said earlier, it was a trial from the gods, and who knows why they do anything,” Shen Qingqiu said.

“So, it has nothing to do with the mystery demon who cured your infection?” Yue Qingyuan asked, but lifted his hand to forestall the response. “Before you answer, remember that you claimed to be loyal to Cang Qiong.”

“I would tell Zhangmen-shixiong if it was pertinent information. After this whole debacle, this one is reluctant to make any baseless assertions. If I think there is any danger to Cang Qiong,” Shen Qingqiu said, looking intently at Yue Qingyuan, “I will tell you directly.”

Yue Qingyuan eased up, leaning further into his seat.

“You’re protecting him,” Liu Qingge said, but Shen Qingqiu didn’t answer.

Qi Qingqi sometimes got tired while watching these boys. They all communicated better through actions than words, but Liu Qingge was the only one who also understood actions best. That was true even when Shen Qingqiu was Shen Jiu, nimble with words but cutting in actions. Both Shen Qingqius accepted Yue Qingyuan’s generosity, but neither of them would press into his reasons. Liu Qingge was straightforward, but he struggled to make himself known in words. In Qi Qingqi’s more limited experience with Shen Yuan, his actions were protective and his words were evasive, meaning that it could be difficult to know exactly who he was protecting, for what reason, and from what threat. He could be protecting Cang Qiong, his disciple, himself, or even all of the above, but at this moment it was impossible to tell and he was determined not to answer.

Qi Qingqi sighed, lifting the curtain to look through the carriage window. She had enough answers for now, but it was a long ride home, and there were still decisions to be made.

~

Coming to an agreement with the other Peak Lords was understandably awkward. The Peak Lord of Ku Xing Peak floated the idea of stripping him of both his title and his cultivation, but was thankfully shut down when Mu Qingfang pointed out that it would leave the second-ranked peak vacant and that depleting his qi would pave the way for Without A Cure to literally kill him. Also, under the circumstances, this punishment could be considered intervening with the will of the gods. Ku Xing Peak’s Lord was remarkably quiet for the rest of the meeting, which had absolutely nothing to do with the stern glares from Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge.

…He really got lucky with those martial brothers. He felt considerably less grateful for Qi Qingqi, who had apparently decided to vent her frustrations through teasing him about his age, repeatedly referring to him as Shen-shidi and once as Shen-shizhi, a move so bold Shen Qingqiu nearly snapped his fan in half. [2]

There were more serious consequences, of course. He had to reassure his martial siblings repeatedly that he would never do anything to jeopardize the sect and would be more honest with them about major events in the future, and even after that, Yue Qingyuan grounded him. Alright, that was understandable, if unpleasant. The trial at Huan Hua Palace opened Cang Qiong to criticism, and Shen Qingqiu would be a target for accusations and physical attacks from anyone who assumed that he was weak despite carrying his portion of the sect for the greater part of a decade. He had to put his foot down, though, when Yue Qingyuan suggested full-time babysitting. One, because he already had years of leading his Peak to demonstrate his ability, two, because it would mean removing the mobility of two out of twelve of the Peak Lords, three, because they needed to invest resources into managing tensions with Huan Hua Palace and resolving the botched investigation (the sowers had been executed while Shen Qingqiu was waiting for trial, so they weren’t available for further questioning), and four, because with Shen Qingqiu limited to the Cang Qiong mountain range, if a threat managed to infiltrate that far, then they clearly had larger issues. Yue Qingyuan reluctantly agreed with the stipulation that he would receive weekly visits from one or more of his martial siblings, and Yue Qingyuan encouraged him repeatedly in a special soft voice to reach out to one of his martial siblings if he was having any issues.

Shen Qingqiu returned to his bamboo house, fell face-down onto his bed, and stayed there for the next couple of hours before he was willing to deal with anything else. When two hours were up, he maneuvered himself out of bed and walked around his Peak. Everything was in the same place and everything looked the same—the bamboo house, the bamboo groves, the disciple dormitories, the library, the classrooms and music rooms and storehouses, even the woodshed where Luo Binghe used to live. His disciples, even the ones who weren’t at the trial, had all heard about his identity reveal, and they were all startled to see him at first, like learning that he was Shen Yuan instead of Shen Jiu would mean that he had shapeshifted into someone else, but they all bowed and greeted him courteously as he passed. Ming Fan and Ning Yingying showed up last, sporting a suspiciously crooked nose and a suspiciously black eye, respectively.

“Shizun!” Ning Yingying cried. She and her shixiong careened towards him, stopping abruptly at a respectful distance and bowing. “This disciple has failed to understand Shizun in the past, but Shizun should rest assured that the disciples of Qing Jing Peak will protect Shizun and work hard to help shoulder his burdens.”

Ming Fan nodded, the determined expression on his face combined with his broken nose making the gesture less reassuring than it was probably meant to be.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t understand what was happening. “…it is a master’s responsibility to watch over his disciples. If Yingying and Ming Fan want to grow stronger and advance in their cultivation, it should be for their own sakes, and not to pick up after their teacher.”

If Ming Fan’s expression was dejected, Ning Yingying’s was downright mutinous. Shen Qingqiu raised a hand to prevent them from talking back. “This matter is not up for discussion. Have my disciples been to Qian Cao Peak? I can’t let others confuse Qing Jing’s disciples for Bai Zhan’s.”

Ming Fan pulled Ning Yingying back by the sleeve. “These disciples will not disappoint Shizun.”

After they left, Shen Qingqiu huffed a laugh. During the trial, he was proud at how strong and mature his disciples had become, but now that the trial was over, it turned out that they were still young after all. Still, he would have to find some way to reward his disciples, which would be hard now that he was (temporarily) disallowed from leaving the mountains.

Eventually, he had walked the entire Peak and circled back to the bamboo house. He lingered for a while before approaching the area behind the house where he had built the sword mound. He took down the inscription and unearthed Zheng Yang, turning the blade over in his hands. He felt an odd kinship with the sword—they had both outlived their narrative utility. Luo Binghe had grown past them, they were both meant to be destroyed, and yet they existed regardless. Shen Qingqiu sat amongst the bamboo with Zheng Yang in his lap until the sky grew dark, then retreated into the house.

He spent a long time polishing it, if it could be called polishing. Mostly he continued handling it, awash with nostalgia.

Luo Binghe had gone into the cave to pull his sword when he was fifteen, nearing sixteen, bubbling with nervousness and excitement.

‘Shizun, what will my sword be like?’ Luo Binghe asked, wringing his hands. ‘What if I don’t pull a good sword? I don’t want to disappoint Shizun!’

Shen Qingqiu smiled slightly. Silly child, shouldn’t the one you’re afraid of disappointing be yourself?

‘There is no way of predicting how one’s spiritual sword will look or feel, but it manifests to suit its wielder. Binghe will not be disappointed.’ He reached over to pat his disciple’s head gently. ‘Should Binghe be disappointed, remember that a weapon is second to its wielder, and this master knows that Binghe is capable of great things.’

Shen Qingqiu could say that Binghe’s sword didn’t matter, because he knew what Luo Binghe’s sword would be, just as he knew it was only a starter weapon. Besides, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t answer those sentimental questions of what drawing your sword was like, or how it felt to hold your spiritual sword for the first time and know it was a part of you; those were both features of the original goods. Binghe seemed touched regardless, and his white lotus/white sheep disciple had returned to present Zheng Yang for inspection with outstretched hands. He had trouble in training afterwards—he always managed to overbalance until Shen Qingqiu had to catch him—but he’d been proud.

Zheng Yang had been a good sword for him.

And then it shattered.

Luo Binghe had been gone, but Shen Qingqiu had diligently collected the shards and had them re-forged rather than letting them return to rest in the caves. The swordsmith did good work; looking at it now, if Shen Qingqiu didn’t know better, he never would have guessed that it had ever been broken.

He did a final pass on the sword, palm moving over the pommel, fingertips gently retracing the character for ‘Zheng’ at the base of the hilt. Shen Qingqiu sighed, standing up and carrying the sheathed sword into Binghe’s former room before gently laying it on the bed. It looked lonely.

Shen Qingqiu slipped the fake jade Guanyin pendant out of inventory and draped it over Luo Binghe’s pillow, shutting the door quietly behind him when he left.

~

Cang Qiong Mountain Sect spent a month watching over the new (?) Shen Qingqiu, and in that month, nothing happened. He didn’t change the way he dressed or styled his hair, and he still preferred to use a neutral expression partially hidden behind a painted fan. He didn’t suddenly turn out to be a demon or a vengeful ghost, nor did he breakdown and have another teary public confession. He practiced the arts; he cultivated; he taught classes. Lightning did not split the heavens to strike him down for revealing information about the actions and motivations of the gods. After the trial, which was dramatic in ways that were mostly different from the trial drama they were expecting, it was really underwhelming!

The Qing Jing Peak disciples implemented ‘chasing off spectators’ into their training regime. Other than Peak Lords and disciples they could verify were running errands, the only person from a different Peak who was allowed to roam Qing Jing Peak freely was Liu Mingyan, who was fast friends with Ning Yingying.

Luo Binghe didn’t show up to reclaim his discipleship, request revenge, or…anything else.

Shen Qingqiu stopped calling his former disciple’s name and no longer spent hours kneeling at his sword mound, but he still refused to eat, and his disciples sometimes caught him staring into the distance in what they were pretty sure was the direction of Huan Hua Palace.

There was an influx of presents, including medicinal teas, sent to Yue Qingyuan.

~

Shen Qingqiu was ready to spit blood. It wasn’t just that the sect was intent on treating him like a delicate treasure, easily broken and worth more than gold (seriously, his disciples were going to give Bai Zhan Peak a run for their money, and that’s after Shen Qingqiu talked Liu Qingge into taking in Yang Yixuan; Shen Qingqiu lit incense for Qian Cao Peak in his heart), or that he wasn’t allowed as far out as the town at the foot of the mountains, or that he saw his martial siblings more frequently than ever before, barring the immediate aftermath of the Immortal Alliance Conference. That last part was mostly fine. Qi Qingqi ribbed him during each of her visits, Mu Qingfang brimmed with poorly hidden curiosity and tried to talk him into a variety of medical tests, and seven of his martial siblings opted out or visited infrequently, making stiff small talk when their turn arrived.

Yue Qingyuan’s visits were uncomfortable in a new way. Shen Qingqiu honestly couldn’t tell if the man considered him a new younger brother or a version of Shen Jiu that he hadn’t failed, but it made him feel wrong-footed. Yue Qingyuan didn’t believe he was Shen Jiu anymore, but he still saw Shen Qingqiu through that lens. Shen Qingqiu gently yet firmly asserted that the sect leader couldn’t afford to spend so much time on Qiong Ding Peak, especially with the Jinlan City sowers' case still unsolved. Maybe they could meet more frequently when Yue Qingyuan had more time to mourn and adjust, and their meetings were more…less weird.

A little over two months in, most of his babysitting shifts were covered by Liu Qingge and Shang Qinghua. Liu Qingge was there mostly for protection, or so he assumed; Liu Qingge wasn’t, ah, the best suited to educate him on running a Peak. Shang Qinghua, as the head of logistics, was better at it, but again: there wasn’t much he had left to learn anymore. Most of Shang Qinghua’s visits covered much more essential information: popular rumors and gossip.

After Shen Qingqiu let Shang Qinghua into his house, Airplane-bro slid him an unassuming book titled The Resentment of Chunshan which Shen Qingqiu accepted on the assumption that he was about to test his Picasso/Schrödinger theory.

It was not that.

Hence the blood spitting.

“Shang Qinghua,” Shen Qingqiu said darkly.

The man in question raised his hands defensively. “It wasn’t me, bro! I swear! I stole—er, I confiscated this from one of my disciples!”

The offending book told the story of Shui Baichun and his cherished disciple He Ling [3], who loved each other in secret before He Ling was revealed to be a demon and their relationship was torn apart by an ancient prophecy. Shui Baichun, unable to defy fate but unwilling to raise a hand against his disciple and lover, confessed his sin before publicly taking his own life. He Ling, overcome with grief and regret, followed him. Interspersed in this tale of tragedy and forbidden romance were countless scenes of fervid, depraved, cutsleeve papapa. Just skimming it was enough to shave years off the end of his immortal life.

“…Tell me no one has read this,” Shen Qingqiu said.

Shang Qinghua twiddled his thumbs, looking up at the roof of Shen Qingqiu’s bamboo house like he’d never seen bamboo or a house before.

“Tell me I’m not the last person who has read this,” Shen Qingqiu said.

Shang Qinghua’s face twitched, but he finally made eye contact. “I can’t confirm anything—” Shen Qingqiu shut his eyes in preemptive pain, “—but I’m pretty sure it’s circulated through most of the Peaks by now. Also, I took it briefly to the Demon Realm and, uh, I think a few demons saw it? And as the logistics Peak, An Ding has closer ties with local merchants than the other Peaks, so there’s a non-zero chance that it’s spread outside the sect into the Human Realm as well.”

Shen Qingqiu wanted to get angry, preferably at Shang Qinghua, but he wasn’t sure he had the energy. Was he embarrassed, frustrated, annoyed, and vaguely violated? Absolutely. Offended that someone wrote a highly fictionalized story about him without his permission and then killed him off? Incredibly. But not angry.

Still, the thought of other people—friends, enemies, strangers—reading this and thinking that it was in any way accurate about him was even more embarrassing than the trial, and the thought of Luo Binghe specifically reading this book made him wish that Binghe had gone for the human stick treatment after all, if only to put him out of his misery.

【Punishment complete.】

Oh. Great. That was very reassuring. Did the System write The Resentment of Chunshan? Did it compel someone else to write it? Was the System just capitalizing on Shen Qingqiu’s ongoing suffering?

It was probably the suffering.

‘Has Binghe read this?’ he wanted to ask, but that seemed too blatant. Granted, he'd had a conversation with Shang Qinghua about compulsory heterosexuality that was shockingly insightful, and granted, Luo Binghe had already fulfilled his destiny to become the world's most beautiful man in a world filled to the brim with peerless beauties, but that line of thinking was off-limits for a variety of reasons.

Before he could get too depressed, he asked, “What news do you have from the Demon Realm?”

Shang Qinghua sagged in relief when he released Shen Qingqiu wasn’t going to hit him. “There’s been a lot of activity, but I don’t know any specifics. My king has been keeping me out of it, which makes me think there are rival demons involved, maybe whoever organized the sowers. I can’t prove it, because Huan Hua Palace botched the investigation, but I don’t think that was Lord Luo’s doing.”

“I think you’re right.” He hoped Shang Qinghua was right. “If the sowers were a ploy to bring me to trial so I could face punishment, why would he clear me and let me go? If it was a rival demon, then it makes sense that he would go to Jinlan City to investigate. The only thing I don’t get is why a demon other than Binghe would want to frame me.”

Shang Qinghua shrugged. “I didn’t write anything like that, but it doesn’t seem like we’re following the original plot anymore. Lord Luo is out of the Abyss two years early, Shen Qingqiu is alive with all four limbs attached—”

“—thanks for that—”

“—no problem—and Sha Hualing keeps complaining that he never pays attention to her. In fact, it doesn’t seem like he’s been romancing any of his wives. We’re in completely uncharted territory.”

After Shang Qinghua left, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t stop thinking about it. He got what he wanted. He had survived Luo Binghe’s return from the Abyss, and he was free to continue being the Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak while Luo Binghe chased his destiny in the wider world. He finally became a dropped plotline peacefully existing in the background, far removed from the main plot.

So why did it feel empty?

Without meaning to, Shen Qingqiu caught his mind wandering like it did when Binghe was still in the Abyss, except that instead of wondering which monsters he was fighting, he wondered about his alliances. Luo Binghe hadn’t married, nor had he come back to Qing Jing Peak to romance his first wife Ning Yingying. Was he having trouble placating Xin Mo? Was he in a better or worse place than the original?

Who was this mysterious rival demon?

The lack of information itched.

Teaching him, mourning him, anticipating his revenge—without meaning to, Shen Qingqiu had built his second life around Luo Binghe. He could finally live a life of leisure and comfort, but instead, he felt listless. Unsettled, even.

Maybe this Luo Binghe decided to search for a single sister he could fully dedicate himself to rather than planting an entire flower garden. The thought should have been comforting.

It wasn’t.

~

Five months after Shen Qingqiu was tried and cleared of all charges and two months after communication stopped between Huan Hua Palace and the rest of the world, the news broke. Yue Qingyuan was finally relaxing his restrictions, so Shen Qingqiu was in a teahouse with Liu Qingge when three cultivators with different robes filtered in, gossiping loudly as they were wont to do.

“Did you hear what happened at Huan Hua Palace?” asked a bright-eyed, pink-cheeked cultivator, wildly brandishing a fan. “Such a scandal! Demons! Betrayal! A forbidden romance!”

The cultivator to their left was unamused, probably because they kept having to dodge their friend’s fan. “What, the trial against that guy from Cang Qiong? That was months ago. Who hasn’t heard about it by now?”

Shen Qingqiu’s hand spasmed against his teacup, but he waved away Liu Qingge’s concern in favor of continued eavesdropping.

The first cultivator denied it quickly, accidentally knocking a cup of tea into their friend’s lap, forcing them to stand with a curse and dig around in their qiankun pouch for a drying talisman. “No, no, this is a new scandal! It has to do with—” they lowered their voice, “—Tianlang-jun.”

“Tianlang-jun?” asked the cultivator to their left, now edging towards ‘severely pissed off.’ “Wasn’t he sealed away years ago? What does he have to do with anything?”

“That’s just the thing!” the first cultivator said brightly. “Apparently, Tianlang-jun had a love affair with a Huan Hua disciple years and years ago, but the Old Palace Master separated them. Since Tianlang-jun was sealed in a mountain, he sent their son to infiltrate the sect and bring it down from the inside.”

The cultivator to their right made a sound of disagreement. “That’s not what I heard. I heard the Old Palace Master raised their son as his own despite his demon blood, and the son decided to confront his birth father when he found out that Tianlang-jun was plotting against Huan Hua Palace.”

The second cultivator, now only slightly damp, sat back with a hmph. “It sounds like neither of you know anything. What two-bit cultivation sect would either fail to detect a demon or knowingly raise one in secret? I’ll allow that maybe Tianlang-jun had a fling with a female cultivator, but if there was such a character passing as a human cultivator in Huan Hua Palace, who’s to say they weren’t lying about being Tianlang-jun’s lovechild? It was probably a random demon playing both sides against the middle.”

The first cultivator clasped their fan to their chest. “In any case, how exciting! The Old Palace Master is dead, Tianlang-jun has vanished, and the half-demon exiled himself in shame! It’s almost as exciting as that book I just read—wait, I have it somewhere—aha! Yes, The Resentment of Chunshan…”

“Liu-shidi,” Shen Qingqiu said. He didn’t have to specify what he meant; Liu Qingge nodded, they paid the owner for their tea, and they took off back to Cang Qiong.

Yue Qingyuan greeted them on Qiong Ding Peak. “Liu-shidi and Shen-shidi have good timing; I was just about to call you back for an emergency meeting.”

He led them to the meeting hall. Once the Peak Lords assembled, he laid out the relevant facts: the Old Palace Master and several Huan Hua Palace disciples, including Gongyi Xiao, had been killed, presumably by Tianlang-jun, who was apparently no longer trapped under a mountain. There had been a fight involving Shen Qingqiu’s former disciple Luo Binghe, after which Tianlang-jun and Luo Binghe had disappeared. Whether they were working together, if Luo Binghe left to pursue him, or if they had left for separate purposes was unknown, nor was any information forthcoming.

“Shen-shidi should be cautious,” Yue Qingyuan said, speaking again in that special soft voice. “For the moment, perhaps it’s best if you curtail your excursions.”

Shen Qingqiu’s eye twitched. Reasonably and not at all petulantly, he responded, “Huan Hua Palace is hardly in a fit state to persecute me again. For now, it’s best to gather information and form defenses against demonic invasion. Perhaps Zhangmen-shixiong could locate the previous sect leader’s notes about Tianlang-jun’s original imprisonment? There is little else we can do until we know what Tianlang-jun’s goals are.”

“Shen-shidi believes there’s more to this?” Yue Qingyuan asked.

Shen Qingqiu fluttered his fan lightly. “If Tianlang-jun targeted Huan Hua Palace directly, he must have had a reason. Liu-shidi and I heard a rumor earlier that Tianlang-jun had a relationship with a Huan Hua Palace disciple and the Old Palace Master created false charges to separate them. Rumors can only be trusted so far, but this master is not willing to discount the idea that the Old Palace Master would falsely imprison someone to further his own goals.”

This response stopped Yue Qingyuan short. “This shixiong will reflect on your words,” he said after a pause. “For now, everyone should exercise caution.”

Yue Qingyuan dismissed them, and an even-sweatier-than-usual Shang Qinghua caught up to him outside the hall.

“Does Shen-shixiong have time to consult with this one on An Ding Peak?” Shang Qinghua asked. Shen Qingqiu nodded.

When they were halfway between Qiong Ding and An Ding, far enough that no one would overhear them, Shen Qingqiu asked, “Why are you sweaty?”

Shang Qinghua laughed nervously. “Am I not usually sweaty?”

Shen Qingqiu squinted suspiciously at him.

“Bro, just—you’ll understand when we get there, okay?”

Shen Qingqiu was still suspicious, but he led it ride. They were almost there, anyway.

If he’d thought it through a little further, he wouldn’t have been surprised when Shang Qinghua opened the door to his house to reveal Luo Binghe on the other side, shoved him in, slapped a talisman on the door, and then shut it so Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe were alone together. Shen Qingqiu would be lying if he said it didn’t occur to him to run again, but the room had no windows and he had no doubt that whatever talisman that traitor Shang Qinghua just used would block the exit.

He probably knew that offending Luo Binghe (both as the protagonist and as his boss’s boss) would be a stupid decision, but that didn’t mean Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t make him pay for the ambush.

Later, though. For now, Shen Qingqiu’s heart had sped up, and it wasn’t all nerves.

Luo Binghe stood before him, stoically handsome and neatly dressed in his exquisite black robes. With his hands clasped behind his back, he radiated with the protagonist’s aura, the picture of power and confidence. The only flaw in this image was his downturned gaze, adding an element of contrition which suggested that his confidence wasn’t as absolute as it appeared.

Shen Qingqiu fixated on that small detail so strongly that it took him an additional moment to realize that he wasn’t carrying Xin Mo.

Luo Binghe kneeled with his palms flat against the floor, sending Shen Qingqiu immediately into panicked internal screaming.

“Binghe…?”

“This disciple apologizes,” Luo Binghe said. “This disciple failed to understand Shizun’s difficulties and endangered Shizun for the sake of his own curiosity. This disciple remained behind to continue investigating the sowers and to ensure that Huan Hua Palace had no further designs on Shizun, but the demon responsible managed to escape with Xin Mo. This disciple attempted to follow, but the trail vanished.”

He looked miserable, and no wonder—the Luo Binghe of <<Proud Immortal Demon Way>> had never faced this kind of defeat after leaving the Abyss. The one time a rival demon managed to grab Xin Mo, the sword immediately overwhelmed him with demonic energy and burnt him to a crisp. Xin Mo was a devouring sword, after all, and it took a powerful demon to quell its hunger.

“Tianlang-jun?” Shen Qingqiu asked, just to confirm. Luo Binghe nodded silently. “Why would he try to frame me?”

“He said that Shizun saved his nephew’s life, allowing him to obtain a magical plant which helped to free him from Bailu Mountain. They thought that if they could isolate Shizun from the cultivation world, they could reward him by sheltering him in the Demon Realm.”

Shen Qingqiu’s scalp tingled. So this whole thing—the sowers at Jinlan City, his trial, the deaths of Huan Hua Palace members—all of it was a consequence of his own choices. It made his heart hurt, and the pain only worsened with every moment Luo Binghe continued to kneel before him.

“Binghe does not have to kneel to this master,” Shen Qingqiu said softly.

Luo Binghe looked up at him, his eyes shining with the barest glint of tears. “This disciple should be kneeling! Shizun has done everything he could to help this disciple, but this disciple let himself be clouded by anger, damaged Shizun’s reputation, and exposed him to others' scheming. What could I have done, if Shizun was injured or abducted? If Shizun died?"

His hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles whitened. "I promised myself that I would always protect Shizun.”

Luo Binghe's eyes had gotten shinier over the course of his speech, but he was still valiantly trying to keep them at bay. That image pierced through Shen Qingqiu more thoroughly than if he’d cried outright.

Shen Qingqiu kneeled in front of his disciple, wrapping his one arm around his shoulders and placing his other hand on the back of Binghe’s head to pull his face into the crook of Shen Qingqiu's neck. He would do Luo Binghe the courtesy of pretending Binghe wasn’t shaking as long as Binghe would grant him the same. “We have both made our own share of mistakes. There is no point in focusing on what may or may not have happened if we had acted differently; the past has already happened.”

Luo Binghe’s arms lightly circled his waist, then tightened when Shen Qingqiu didn’t push him away. There was a voice ringing in Shen Qingqiu’s head similar to the one that chided him for OOC behavior even long after he disabled the OOC function. This time, it shouted at him for hugging the adult, blackened protagonist who was, in all likelihood, dampening the collar of Shen Qingqiu’s silk robes. He waved the concern somewhere in the direction of his delayed panic over an unknown but extremely powerful demon lord seizing power of Xin Mo and the strange cultivator from the teahouse saying What two-bit cultivation sect would either fail to detect a demon or knowingly raise one in secret?

Hang the plot. If the protagonist wanted to cling onto Shen Qingqiu, then who was Shen Qingqiu to deny him?

Once Luo Binghe stopped shaking, Shen Qingqiu pulled back. It was obvious that Binghe had been crying, but it was obvious in that storybook way where his eyes were bright and his cheeks were slightly flushed, a peerless beauty only elevated by inciting protectiveness and affection through vulnerability. Ugly crying with puffy eyes and runny noses was only for younger siblings, NPCs, and cannon fodder.

Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat slightly. “It may not be in the same tier as Xin Mo, but this master knows where Binghe can find another sword.”

Shen Qingqiu led Luo Binghe out of Shang Qinghua’s house (the Peak Lord himself was nowhere to be seen, unsurprisingly) and did his best to sneak Luo Binghe onto Qing Jing Peak. ‘Doing his best’ was the only way he could describe it when the Peak Lord of a highly supervised Peak arrived alongside their former disciple whom they had recently been involved in a major scandal with and whom many believed to be a half-demon, and that wasn’t even touching on the book Shen Qingqiu may or may not have guiltily stashed in his closet.

Liu Mingyan definitely saw Shen Qingqiu taking Luo Binghe home, so that could be a problem if the attack on Huan Hua Palace wasn’t strong enough to occupy people’s minds. It was a banner year for rumors, scandals, and suspicion. Shen Qingqiu was glad that the privacy measures the original goods set up wouldn’t allow her to spy on them in his own house.

Luo Binghe looked around the bamboo house for the first time in nearly four years. Shen Qingqiu wondered what he saw. Clutter, probably—without Binghe around, Ming Fan was the one helping him finish and organize the paperwork as well as the one cleaning the house, and neither he nor Shen Qingqiu were nearly as orderly and methodical as Binghe. Shen Qingqiu gathered the courage to walk through the main room and slide open the door to Binghe’s own room, which was both dustier and better organized than the rest of the house, since Shen Qingqiu refused to change any of Binghe’s careful placements but still insisted on sweeping and dusting the room himself.

Shen Qingqiu’s courage ran out before he could convince himself to make eye contact with Binghe, so he saw Luo Binghe's boots but not his expression when he hesitated over the threshold. He inhaled sharply when he spotted the objects on the bed.

Shen Qingqiu raised his gaze. Luo Binghe’s back was facing him, but Shen Qingqiu watched him loop the cord of the fake jade Guanyin pendant over his palm and slide Zheng Yang from its sheath. For a brief moment, the blade caught the sunlight from the window and the reflection flashed over them both.

“I should have known,” Luo Binghe said, his voice so soft that if Shen Qingqiu hadn’t been a cultivator he wouldn’t have heard. “Shizun always shows a strong face to the world and cares in secret.”

Luo Binghe raised his voice to a normal level, turning halfway towards Shen Qingqiu. “Shizun shouldn’t be so kind to me, or I might start imagining things.”

Shen Qingqiu’s breath caught. “What things?”

Binghe laid the sword and pendant back on the bed before crossing the distance between them, lifting one hand to cradle Shen Qingqiu’s face. Shen Qingqiu distantly noted that Luo Binghe ran hot, and that his skin was already warming beneath the touch. “I might start imagining that Shizun feels the same way I do.”

Shen Qingqiu’s pride and insecurity dug their heels in. “What feelings are those?”

Luo Binghe huffed a small laugh. “That Shizun is the only one in my heart, the only person I could ever love in this lifetime.”

“A life can be a very long time for immortals, and Binghe is capable of great things.”

“Shizun has said so before, and yet this disciple has long felt that the greatest accomplishment would be to live by Shizun’s side.” Luo Binghe’s thumb, calloused from years of sword practice and learning the guqin, stroked carefully back and forth across Shen Qingqiu’s cheekbone. Despite spending years undergoing medical treatments, falling under careful observation, being almost painfully aware of his own mortality, and shying away from vulnerability in both lives, this was the first time that Shen Qingqiu felt like he was made of glass.

“You might regret this,” Shen Qingqiu said.

“I will always have regrets,” Luo Binghe said, “but Shizun could never be one of them.”

Luo Binghe kissed him right there in the doorway, with his old life behind him and Shen Qingqiu ahead. Shen Qingqiu vaguely registered the System alerting him with three rounds of congratulations and tallying his points, but he was distracted by the thought that even if this new plot was still ongoing, he had already wrangled his happy ending.