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Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu woke up with a gasp, expecting pain to erupt all over his body. Except it didn’t. Nothing did. He couldn't feel anything.

He was lying on top of a large field of grass, wearing his dinosaur pajamas and he couldn’t feel a thing. Not the grass under his back, nor the sun shining on his face. 

Nothing.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t know why he felt grateful for that fact. Why he was scared to feel something. 

Shen Qingqiu stayed there for a couple more minutes, looking around every once in a while to see his surroundings. 

There were a lot of people near him, not around Shen Qingqiu specifically, but around a general part of the vast grass fields.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t know everyone in the crowd but he recognized Mrs. Yu, the lady that always gave him free chocolate milk at his favorite bakery, and Uncle Liu, his best friend’s dad. 

Shen Qingqiu sat up quickly, excited by the prospect of seeing his best friend, only to find Liu Qingge huddled into his mother’s embrace. 

His friend was crying. Crying, when just yesterday he’d boldly told him that crying was for babies and that he was never ever gonna cry again.

5-year-olds were too old to cry.

Except now his friend was crying, wailing into his mother who was trying her best to soothe him. 

And suddenly Shen Qingqiu was scared because his friend was crying but he didn’t know why and Shen Qingqiu didn’t know where he was and he wanted his papa to hold him like Aunty Lou was holding Liu Qingge.

But he couldn’t find his papa, and his baba was always with his papa so if papa wasn’t here then baba wasn’t here but Shen Qingqiu wanted them to be here.

He’d wanted them to save him, he’d wanted them to stop the pain, he’d wanted them to sweep in and hug him and tell him everything was okay like they did after he’d had a nightmare. Except this wasn’t a dream and all Shen Qingqiu could feel was hurt-pain-fear-PAIN.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Shen Yuan.”

Gege.  

That was gege. His gege was here and suddenly Shen Qingqiu felt a little better. 

He remembered being excited about his gege returning from college, he’d been driving everyone crazy for an entire week, but he couldn’t help it!

His gege was supposed to come back and he’d been excited but something had happened.

Something had happened and his excitement had turned into hurt-pain-fear-PAIN but Shen Qingqiu didn’t remember what it was and suddenly his gege wasn’t coming to get him but he couldn't remember why.

Well, that didn’t matter. His gege was here now and his gege always made everything better. 

Like when he was 3 and he’d broken his leg when he tried to use his gege’s skateboard and it hurt.

But not as much as something else. Something more painful, something that was colliding against him constantly, without a moment’s rest. Something that was breaking his bones and tearing his muscles and making him hurt.

His gege had swept in, picking him up and holding him close to his chest, whispering reassurances as Shen Qingqiu quietly cried against his chest. 

His gege hadn’t let him go until they went to the hospital, not even to let his papa and baba hold him, and Shen Qingqiu had felt so safe that he’d drifted off into a fitful sleep.

(Shen Anwei had always felt as if his children’s wounds were directly inflicted upon his heart. Had always felt sheer agony when his kids got hurt.

Except, now his youngest, his baby, was more than hurt and he was never going to heal and Shen Anwei would rather be tortured a million times than suffer through this single day.)

He wasn’t safe and his family wasn’t coming to get him so he could never be safe but he wanted to be safe. Wanted to not be in pain. Shen Qingqiu wanted his family.

Shen Qingqiu turned towards the voice that had spoken, looking around anxiously for even a glimpse of his gege. 

Shen Qingqiu found him quickly enough, found him before Shen Qingqiu’s breaths started becoming fluttery. His brother was surrounded by people wearing black. His parents were also there, right next to his gege but huddled into each other, half a step away from collapsing against one another. 

They were all crying. They never cried. 

Papa was warmth and peace and ink on paper, while baba was laughter and mischief and motorcycle rides, and his gege was sunshine and kindness and tanghulu. 

They were never sad, they should never be sad.

Shen Qingqiu felt a flicker of fear spark in his chest, traveling up his body until he felt as if his throat was being choked.

Shen Qingqiu knew what being choked felt like now, intimately knew the suffocating pressure on his neck and the knife in his stomach. 

Shen Qingqiu tried to go to them but. But there were so many people.

People he knew and people he didn’t, people who used to ruffle his hair and people who used to pinch his cheeks. People who slipped him candy and people who made him eat every single thing on the table because “...you’re too skinny, my dear. You should eat this, it’s good for your health.”

Shen Qingqiu didn’t have a problem with most people. But he still didn’t want to go near them. Not when they were all so tall and he was so short.

There was a person standing in front of him, looming over his broken body with a sadistic grin. Shen Qingqiu was like a ragdoll next to him, next to the behemoth of a human that had so thoroughly tortured him. The human that seemed more like a demon to Shen Qingqiu.

So, Shen Qingqiu waited. Waited until his body stopped shaking. Waited until the crowd slowly dispersed. 

It took a long time. So long in fact, that Shen Qingqiu was confused as to why everybody seemed to be ignoring him. In the hours that he’d waited, nobody had come up to talk to him, nobody even seemed to notice him. 

That was okay though. Shen Qingqiu didn’t want to talk to the adults. 

Tall-big-scary-please stop-it hurts.

He kept hitting him, he wouldn’t stop no matter how much Shen Qingqiu begged. Kept stabbing and kicking and punching and laughing. He kept hurting Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Qingqiu walked up to his family, walked up to the headstone they were surrounding.

Shen Qingqiu tried to take his brother’s hand, tried to slip his tiny palm into his brother’s warmer one. 

His hand slipped through.

Shen Yuan collapsed, unable to hold himself up any longer, unable to withstand the grief coursing through his body. He barely noticed the pain radiating through his knees. He placed his head on the smooth marble that laid on top of his brother’s grave, wetting it with his tears. His parents followed soon after, wrapping their arms around his shoulder to bring him up.

He followed them, resting his head on his baba’s shoulder while he wept into his baba’s neck. He could feel their tears dripping into his hair but Shen Yuan couldn’t care less at that moment.

His baby brother was dead. His baby brother had been murdered. His baby brother had been tortured to death.

Shen Qingqiu had been startled by their reaction. He turned his head to the grave, fear coursing through his veins all the while. 

After a while, fear was all that was left in his veins. Most of his blood had drained out.

Shen Qingqiu

September 22, 2002 - December 18, 2007

Forever loved

I will sleep in peace until you come to me 

Luo Binghe, the ruler of the Demon Realm, the conqueror of worlds was not one to be easily slighted. 

So when that other world with the kind shizun and the crybaby had defeated him, Luo Binghe had gone on a rampage. 

Except he couldn’t go back to that world, couldn’t go back to that warmth.

So Luo Binghe decided to find it in a different world. A world that would have no choice but to accept him. 

He’d stumbled upon a strange one, a world without cultivation but with buildings that scraped the sky and technology that made his own devices seem obsolete.

He’d stumbled upon a strange world that had two shizuns. The nice one and the human stick one. Except the human stick one wasn’t a human stick and he was alive and he was the brother of the nice one and Luo Binghe was enraged.

Even the scum got more time with the nice shizun than he did. 

By the time his head cleared, there was a broken body in front of his feet and screams ringing in his ears and a smile stretching across his face. 

[System Initializing soul transfer...1...2...3]

Shen Qingqiu had strange dreams sometimes, dreams that left him gasping for breath or aching for a hug he’d never experienced. 

There was a specific dream however that haunted Shen Qingqiu. A dream where he was so small and someone was looming over him and they were scary and they were hurting him and he wanted the pain to stop but he was helpless.

The person wasn’t Qiu Jianluo, oh no, Shen Qingqiu had had many nightmares about that trash, but this wasn’t one of them. This was someone different, someone he’d never seen before. 

The dreams had started when he’d joined Cang Qiong and they wouldn’t stop.

The dreams would never stop, not the ones about the Qiu family and certainly not the ones about the torture-prone stranger.

But they’d remained dreams. The dreams had never become reality. 

There was a child in front of him with the same eyes and the same face as the person in the dreams. His tormentor was standing in front of him but that couldn’t be possible because this was a child. His tormentor had been an adult. 

Shen Qingqiu took him in. He made him pour tea. He then dumped that hot tea on the child’s head because it was the same smile.

The child’s smile, the one that had haunted his dreams, the one that needed to go away before it destroyed him again. Before it hurt him again. 

So. Tea.

It worked. Luo Binghe stopped smiling. 

(Shen Qingqiu ignored the part of his brain that was telling him to reconsider. The one that was telling him that there was a child in front of him.

He’d been a child too, once. Twice. Multiple times. That had never stopped any of them.)

From then on Shen Qingqiu ignored Luo Binghe, ignored his every bruise, every excuse, every whimper but he couldn’t ignore his smile.

That same goddamn smile.

So he made it disappear. He gave harsh punishments, spewed harsh words, gave harsh critiques, did harsh everything.

He did not give him a faulty cultivation manual but he didn’t correct the mistake either, so was there really a difference. 

He didn’t order the bullying but he didn’t stop it either. 

It was a complex web of action and inaction that preserved his sanity. Because Shen Qingqiu couldn’t deal with the smile but he also couldn’t deal with being Qiu Jianluo. 

It was a web that entrapped him when one string broke.

Shen Qinqgiu was five again and he was in the other world and a man was hurting him and he was in pain and the man was in front of him.

The man was in front of him and the mark on his forehead was glowing and the man’s eyes were glowing and he was going to hurt Shen Qingqiu.

The man was in front of him but he wasn’t a man and he was just as tall but not as broad and Shen Qingqiu had been in pain.  

Shen Qingqiu had died in pain and he’d lived in fear but he just wanted some peace and he would never have that while the man was in front of him so Shen Qingqiu pushed. 

The ma-his discipl-the tortu- the teenage-

Luo Binghe fell.

Shen Qingqiu was being tortured and yet somehow, those dreams had been more painful. 

Because he’d had hope in those dreams, hope that someone would come to save him but he didn’t have that here.

No one would come to save him. No one. 

Not even Yue Qi.

(His actual brother hadn’t been able to save him, so why would Yue Qi be any different. Because Shen Qingqiu had had a brother who cared, his Yuan-ge had cared, and that hadn't been enough, so why would Yue Qi be able to save him? Why would he try when that traitor didn’t care.)

Nobody would come to save him and that made it better somehow. Made it hurt less.

Plus, this would end. Soon. And then he’d be at peace.  

Shen Qingqiu died a miserable death in the Water Prison.

Shen Qingqiu was born again. He was alive and Shen Anwei was his papa and Zhao Yunlan was his baba and Shen Yuan was his gege and he was alive. 

Shen Qingqiu was born on September 22, 2002. He died on December 18, 2007.  

His murderer was never caught.

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu was kicked out of his body on a rather unremarkable day.

Shen Qingqiu was kicked out of his body and he could see his gege’s soul move in as if it was a room up for rent.

Shen Qingqiu had been kicked out of his body and five years’ worth of memories had been shoved into his consciousness and Shen Qingqiu was fine.

(It didn’t sting, the fact that no one cared. No one cared that Shen Qingqiu had been a real person with his own memories and reasons and traumas. All they cared about was the fact that someone was being nice for a change. 

They didn’t care that something was wrong. As long as that something kept being wrong, they didn’t care.

It didn’t sting.

They were supposed to be his family.

But they didn’t care.)

Shen Qingqiu was evicted and he didn’t care. He was fine.

“HE KILLED ME! GEGE! THAT BEAST KILLED ME!” roared Shen Qingqiu.

No one could hear him.

“HE KILLED ME AND YOU’RE MARRYING HIM?!?”

Shen Yuan was smiling happily, caught up in the festivities of the day. There was a cup of peach blossom wine in his hand and his fan was dangling from his waist.

“HE TOOK ME AWAY FROM YOU! FROM PAPA! FROM BABA! AND YOU’RE MARRYING HIM?!?”

Luo Binghe ambled over to his shizun, moving to gently hold onto his husband’s elbow. There was a lovesick grin on his flushed face.

"HE KILLED ME GEGE!"

Shen Yuan wished his family had been able to come to his wedding. He wished his family wasn’t in another world.

He wished his entire family was still alive.  

His baby brother would’ve loved Binghe.

Shen Yuan didn’t like the way he looked. He didn’t like the way the Qing Jing Peak Lord looked, to be more precise.

(He didn’t like the peak lord’s name either, didn’t like the way it made him think of his baby brother, didn’t like the way it made him look for his brother.

He’d almost dropped the book because of it but the spelling had been different and the world had been interesting and Shen Yuan had needed to escape.)

They looked similar but. 

Shen Yuan didn’t like the way the Qing Jing Peak Lord looked.

The original goods reminded Shen Yuan of his little Firefly. Of his tiny, baby brother who’d been stolen from him. 

The Qing Jing Peak Lord looked like his Firefly if his Firefly had ever been able to grow up. 

[System Initializing: Activation Code verified...]

What?!

[The side quest is being configured. Please stand by.]

What side quest?!

[Please stand by, Host.]

I thought you were gone! You were supposed to be gone!

[System has been summoned with an activation code Host.]

What code?!

[The side quest has to be triggered by the phrase, “He looks like Firefly,” or any variation of it.]

Do. Not. Bring. My. Brother. Into. This. 

[Please stand by.]

How DARE YOU?! YOU HAVE NO RIG- 

[The quest is being configured. Please stand by.]

Shen Yuan took a deep breath.

System. I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME. EXPLAIN YOURSELF.

[Please stand by.]

SYSTEM!

SYSTEM!

ANSWER ME YOU DIMWITTED MACH-

[Side Quest configured. Would Host like to accept this mission?]

No!

[Mission Accepted.]

HOW?!

[Any verbal or mental answer is confirmation for this quest.]

THEN WHY ASK IN THE FIRST PLACE?!

[Regulation. Would Host like to read the parameters for this quest?]

Fine!

[Mission-The one that came before.

Activation Phrase: The line “He looks like Firefly” or any variation of said phrase.

Points: 71,218

Objective: Survive till the end of the quest

Mission: Watch the life cycle of your predecessor.]

That was a lot of points. A lot of points for what seemed to be an easy mission. 

Shen Yuan was intrigued. 

....interesting. But what do you mean by survi-

[Mission Starting in 3...2...1]

Shen Yuan couldn’t see much when he woke up. The room was dark, the only light coming from a small window near the ceiling. There was a damp quality to the air, humid enough for the water vapor to slightly condense onto cool surfaces. There was mold growing in the damp corners, climbing up the crumbling walls. The wallpaper was peeling off, strips of stone exposed to the warm air of the room. There were cobwebs all around the ceiling, some housing small spiders that seemed to be as still as the air itself.

Shen Yuan’s baby brother had hated spiders. He’d feared them with every inch of his being. 

(Shen Yuan picked up his brother, twirling him around in a slow circle. He pressed a quick kiss to Shen Qingqiu’s forehead. “That’s not a lot of inches, Firefly.”

“HEY!”)

Shen Yuan had to resist the urge to get rid of those cobwebs, had to fight the knee-jerk instinct to make the room safe for his little Firefly. 

(Shen Yuan had a gentle smile on his face, the one where his eyes were soft and warm and his face looked like it was glowing even when it barely moved. “I promise little one. There aren’t any monsters under your bed.”

“But are you sure?”

Shen Yuan pretended to think for a couple minutes. “Hmm, how about we do this. We’ll check under your bed one last time, together, and if you still feel scared, we can have a sleepover.”

Shen Qingqiu furrowed his brows and worried at his lip, focusing entirely on the sleepover portion of the plan. “.....can we have hot chocolate?”

Shen Yuan ruffled his brother’s curls before lifting him up and placing him on his hip. He valiantly resisted the urge to squeeze his brother into a tight hug. “Sure, we can even add marshmallows. The good ones, from that French store down the street.”)

System?

System? Are you there?

Answer me, you idiotic, mindless, buffoon of a-

The sound of footsteps halted Shen Yuan’s mental rant.

Shen Yuan couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed that he’d been lying on the floor.

(Shen Yuan had woken up in worse conditions, it really wasn’t much of a surprise that he hadn’t noticed. 

Really, his mushroom body was going to haunt him in ways Shen Yuan hadn’t even thought would be possible.)

Shen Yuan pushed himself up on his elbows, pausing when he saw the body he’d been sprawled upon. 

(Why hadn’t Shen Yuan felt the body beneath him, why hadn’t he felt anything?

Why was he scared to not feel anything?)

Oh god, that’s his baby brother.

Shen Yuan got up, sitting on his knees with his back turned to the door. He moved a little so he could shield his brother, blocking him from the view of anyone who might stumble upon them. 

Shen Yuan stretched out his hands, moving to pick up his little brother in a motion so instinctual that it had practically been etched into his bones. 

His hands sank into the body, phasing through as if they were made of air. Shen Yuan tried to pick him up again, to no avail. He tried again and again and again and again but it wasn’t working.

It wasn’t working and his baby brother was in front of him and his baby brother was alive and his baby brother was barely breathing and nothing was working.

Shen Yuan really was useless, wasn’t he? 

He never did anything, could never do anything to save his Firefly.

Shen Yuan was the world’s worst big brother. 

(Zhao Yunlan had a small, fond smile on his face. “Where did you get that A-Yuan?”

There was a plain white ceramic mug in Shen Yuan’s hands. A dog was painted on it with surprising skill considering the painter had only been three years old. The words “World’s Best Brother” had been stamped upon it in a bright mint color. 

“Firefly,” Shen Yuan cleared his throat, failing to lessen his grin, “He just gave it to me. Right now actually, you just missed him. He said he did it all by himself.” Shen Yuan paused to admire the mug in his hands before he looked up again. “I had to force myself to let go of him, he started complaining around the 7-minute mark about the hug.”

Zhao Yunlan laughed. “He does have that effect, doesn’t he?”

“Oh, you have no idea baba. I’m stopping myself from cuddling him for the rest of the day through sheer willpower.”)

Shen Yuan couldn’t watch his baby brother die, not when seeing his corpse had been bad enough. 

Not when he’d broken down after holding his brother’s body, not after he’d felt the way the bones had shifted under his hands. 

But he would have to. He would have to watch the light fade out of those crystalline eyes. 

He would have to watch his brother die because a psycho had thought it would be fun to torture a five-year-old.  

Shen Yuan focused on the slow rise and fall of his brother’s chest while he tried to find a way to save his brother. 

His Firefly’s chest had been mottled with bruises, stab wounds littering every inch of his skin. His brother’s fingers had been broken, his arm hanging limply where it had been pulled out of its socket. There’d been a ring of hand-shaped bruises around his neck, looking disturbingly like a necklace. His brother’s knees had been smashed, pulverized into shards of bone. Only his brother’s face remained undamaged, left untouched by the maniac.

He didn’t want to turn back when he heard the footsteps getting louder, getting closer, he didn’t want to look his brother’s killer in the eye, not when he couldn’t slash that bastard’s throat. 

But Shen Yuan would turn back. 

He owed his brother that much, owed it to his little Firefly to figure out who’d killed him.

Except he wasn’t dead yet. 

His brother’s chest had caved in on itself. His broken ribs had punctured his lung. 

His brother's chest hadn’t caved in. Not yet.

His brother wasn’t dead yet, not yet, and Shen Yuan couldn't give up. Not yet.

SYSTEM! I’LL DO ANYTHING, JUST LET ME SAVE MY BROTHER!  

SYSTEM! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME! 

SYSTEM!

PLEASE!

The footsteps were still getting closer and his system wasn’t answering and a shadow fell on Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan looked up.

He saw the looming figure of his husband, splattered with blood that was soaking into his clothes and dripping from his hair. 

His husband was grinning, the same smile he always gave when he was pleased. Happy. Content. A smile that showed just the tiniest slivers of his teeth.

Shen Yuan had loved that smile.

Oh god, Shen Yuan was going to be sick.

Xin Mo was strapped to his hus-the killer. 

Luo Binghe of Proud Immortal Demon Way, the Supreme Ruler of the Demon World, the stallion protagonist was standing over his brother’s broken body.

Shen Yuan couldn’t see anything but his brother’s body. The body that had dislocated shoulders, smashed knees, broken fingers, bruised bones, and perforated lungs. 

The body that had a gaping hole in its chest. A hole that had been caused by Xin Mo. 

A corpse that had been caused by Luo Binghe. 

Shen Yuan had screamed himself hoarse but no one had heard him. His system hadn’t responded. 

Shen Yuan had been staring at his brother's body for hours.

He hadn’t stopped staring until his Uncle Feng had found his Firefly’s dead body, accompanied by the country’s best officers.

(Shen Yuan remembered the guilt in his Uncle Feng’s eyes. He remembered how every moment without information regarding little Qingqiu had eaten away at his Uncle’s composure.

Shen Yuan remembered Uncle Feng’s haunted eyes, remembered how his hands had shaken when he’d led Shen Yuan to his brother.

Mostly, Shen Yuan remembered how his Uncle Feng had been unable to save his Firefly, had been unable to find him until it was too late, had been unable to do anything but sit and wait and hope for the best because a lunatic had kidnapped little Qingqiu and kidnapped children rarely survived past the initial 24 hours and 16 of those had already passed and they’d had no information and they’d all been utterly useless but they hadn’t found a body yet and then they found one.)

Shen Yuan followed his brother's soul, saw it become an infant.

Shen Yuan saw his brother being abandoned in a ditch on a cold day. Shen Yuan saw how he wailed for people who’d never come back.

(He’d tried to pick up the baby.

He’d failed.

Again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

Shen Yuan always failed.)

He saw his brother turn into Xiao Jiu, saw him become a slave for the Qiu Family, saw him endure their abuse. 

Shen Yuan had never hated the Qiu Family more than at that moment.

Shen Yuan had never hated himself more than in that moment.

Because all Shen Yuan could do was watch. He was helpless.  

Shen Yuan watched Qiu Jianluo abuse his baby brother. Watched him bruise and break his brother and he felt rage.

This trash of a human being was hurting his brother.

(This absolutely shitty family had been able to stay together, stay with each other, for fourteen years. His brother had barely gotten 5.

This trash of a human being had spent more time with his brother than Shen Yuan himself.

Why did this gutter trash get to live with his brother when Shen Yuan had had to live with his brother’s death? Why did Qiu Haitang get a little brother when Shen Yuan’s had broken on that cold December morning?)

Shen Yuan watched the Qiu Manor burn and he felt a curl of satisfaction as the building turned to ashes. 

He saw Wu Yanzi and he raged his frustrations into the void. 

It didn’t matter though, it wasn’t like he could do anything. 

Useless. 

Helpless.

He saw his brother’s attempts at camaraderie. Attempts because, despite the goodwill, Liu Qingge seemed hell-bent on making a villain out of his baby brother. 

(Shen Yuan remembered two five-year-olds who’d said they would be best friends forever and ever.

He remembered them falling asleep on the same play mat, Firefly tucked into his friend’s embrace, resting his head on the crook of Liu Qingge’s shoulder.

He remembered them running around, sword fighting with sticks they’d found on the ground.

He remembered their attempts at becoming pirates, conquering the high tides of their local swimming pool with their spiderman pool float. 

He remembered how they’d anoint each bruise with a peck, the recipient claiming it was all better even when their eyes were still teary.

Shen Yuan remembered Liu Qingge bawling at the funeral. He remembered how the little boy had kissed the coffin’s lid when it’d been his turn to pay his last respects. He remembered how Liu Qingge still visited his brother’s grave years after Firefly had died.)

Shen Yuan saw his brother become the Peak Lord and he was so proud of his little Firefly.

Shen Yuan saw his brother’s Qi deviation, saw that it wasn’t a normal one, and then Shen Yuan saw red.

(HOW DARE YOU. 

SYSTEM. 

ANSWER ME.)

He still couldn’t do anything. 

Useless.

Shen Yuan could feel a familiar bed beneath him, could smell the delicious breakfast, could hear Luo Binghe humming.

He could imagine the smile on Luo Binghe’s face. 

That same smile.  

[Host needs to calm down before he goes into a Qi Deviation.]

That same smile. That same smile and this same body but different people and-

[Host needs to keep calm for just a few more minutes. The mission will end soon.]

His body, oh hell, he was using Firefly’s body.

He was using Firefly’s body and he’d married a version of his Firefly’s kille-

[Host needs to calm down.]

But his Binghe wasn’t a killer but this was still his brother’s body-

[Host needs to calm down before he goes into Qi Deviation.]

And he’d married Luo Binghe in his brother’s body. His brother who’d been tortured by a different Luo Binghe and-

[Host, you need to calm down before you go into Qi Deviation. You will not survive if you do and your account will be terminated. Host needs to stay calm for a few more minutes.]

His brother was dead. His brother was completely and utterly dead. 

Little Qinqgiu, Firefly, wouldn’t come back, couldn’t come back. Shen Yuan knew that. 

(Shen Yuan had known that since he’d been led to his brother’s deathbed on a cold December morning.)

He also knew that he wouldn’t be able to survive in his brother’s old body. 

Not like this. Not when his brother was dead and he’d been tortured and he’d been hurt and Shen Yuan had been useless.

Shen Yuan could hear footsteps, could hear Binghe coming to him, speeding up with every second that passed. 

Shen Yuan couldn’t calm down. 

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

[Termination in 3...2...1]

Chapter Text

The agar strips were soaking in warm water and the osmanthus flowers had been prepared, all Zhao Yunlan had to do was boil everything together and let it cool. 

Osmanthus jelly was a favorite of his children, they couldn’t get enough of it. Zhao Yunlan always tried to make some when his eldest came around for the weekend. 

The smiles they gave in return were some of Zhao Yunlan’s most cherished memories. 

They’d be late though, A-Yuan was always running late. In a way, it was perfect since it gave Zhao Yunlan just enough time for the jellies to set.

Zhao Yunlan tasted a bit of the liquid, grimacing at the overly sweet taste. He had to blink back his tears at the nostalgic taste.

He added a bit more sugar to the hot mixture anyway, his sons had always liked sweet things.

It was a bit tricky to pour the jelly mixture into the delicate molds, but Zhao Yunlan had years of practice.

His practice didn’t stop his hands from shaking.

“A-Lan?”

Zhao Yunlan quickly turned around, putting the warm pot on a trivet nearby. “Xiao Wei.”

Zhao Yunlan tried to smile, forcing his lips to twist up when he saw his husband in the kitchen doorway. 

It was all ruined by the tears dripping down his face. 

Shen Anwei took a deep breath, composing himself before he spoke. The smell of the jelly nearly broke what was left of his composure. “What are you doing, my love?”

Zhao Yunlan turned back to his pot and he started to stir the liquid. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “I’m making osmanthus jelly, love. For our boys. You know how much they love it. I even added extra sugar.”

Shen Anwei sucked in a quick breath, keeping himself from breaking down through willpower alone. “A-Lan-”

Zhao Yunlan’s voice was choked. “I know A-Yuan’s going to be a bit late but I wanted to make sure they could eat the jelly as soon as they came home so I started to prepare it.”

“M-my love-”

Zhao Yunlan turned around again, his jelly mixture forgotten for the time being. His eyes were bloodshot. “They’ll be here soon, right? A-Yuan and l-little Q-Qingqiu? I made them their favorite jelly, and I added extra sugar, so they’ll be back, right?”

Shen Anwei bit back a sob and shook his head. 

Zhao Yunlan’s face crumpled at his husband’s response, a desperate gleam entering his eyes. “W-will they be back tomorrow then? I’ve made t-their favorite jelly Xiao Wei, do you think they'll be back soon?”

Shen Anwei rushed to his husband, tears pouring down his face. He slammed into him, wrapping him up in a tight hug while he sobbed into his shoulder. 

Zhao Yunlan let his hands curl around his husband. His own tears fell on Shen Anwei’s head but neither paid much attention to it. 

Zhao Yunlan took in a stuttering breath, his throat catching on sobs that were desperately trying to break out of his throat. “T-they’ll be back soon r-right, my l-love?”

Shen Anwei couldn’t make his voice work so he shook his head again. 

Zhao Yunlan tightened his hug, his heaving breaths leaving him unable to speak properly, every word punctuated with a sob. “B-but I made t-them j-jelly, Xiao Wei.” 

“X-Xiao Wei, we’ll see t-them again, right? Our b-boys? T-They’ll come back s-soon, right?”

“T-they’ll be home soon, right?”

Shen Anwei took a deep breath, pushing past the sobs bursting out of his chest. 

“No. T-They can’t come back, A-Lan.” 

Shen Anwei couldn’t continue, his entire body shaking with the grief he’d hoped he would never have to feel again.

His sons were gone.

There were two headstones, side-by-side, in a desolate graveyard. 

One of them was for a 5-year-old boy whose coffin had been too small, whose life had been too short, whose tale had been too tragic.

The other one was for the child’s older brother, another soul that had been reaped well before his prime. 

Two plates of osmanthus jellies had been placed on their graves. 

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu had forgotten what a hug felt like. He remembered them, he remembered every single hug he’d ever gotten in his life, but he’d forgotten what they felt like.

Sunshine. They felt like sunshine.

They felt like gege. Because gege was hugging him.

(Gege had died, he’d died so many times, but gege was here now and he was hugging him.)

It was a little different from the hugs he’d gotten when he was five, the smell of old books and sugary coffee wasn’t there anymore, but the sheer warmth made up for it.

His gege was holding him, he’d lifted him up like Shen Qingqiu was five again and there was a hand softly carding through his hair, and it was scratching lightly at his scalp and tugging at the ends of his hair and it was interspersed with kisses to his forehead and for a moment Shen Qingqiu was truly five again and he’d just had a nightmare and his gege was there to chase the demons away.

His gege was there and Shen Qingqiu was safe.

For once, Shen Qingqiu was truly safe.

And so he slept.

Shen Yuan was holding his brother. His brother was there, in his arms, and he was a little bit bigger and a little bit less bruised and he was so much more alive.

(Firefly had been so small and Shen Yuan had needed to hold him except the bones had shifted and his Firefly had been so cold and. 

And his Firefly had been dead.

He was still dead now but Shen Yuan could hold him and he was warm and his bones weren’t shifting and his brother was dead but he was still alive.)

Shen Yuan couldn’t let go of his brother, even if his life depended on it.

Firefly was still so small.

Shen Yuan had expected his Firefly to be an adult. He’d expected his Firefly to be a child.

He’d expected him to be five, or twenty-five, or even thirty-two.

His Firefly couldn’t be older than seven. Bigger than five, smaller than twenty-five, and still tiny.

He was small enough to be picked up, small enough to be engulfed by Shen Yuan’s embrace.

Shen Yuan kept stroking his brother's hair, whispering reassurances every once in a while to calm the child in his arms. 

Shen Qingqiu was pressed up against him, curled up into a ball. His knuckles were white from holding onto Shen Yuan’s robes. He was shaking, slight tremors going through his body intermittently, and he was crying but he was warm.

It’s been years since Shen Yuan has been able to hug his brother, years since he’s been able to hold him, and yet his actions were entirely instinctual, practically etched into his bones. 

Shen Yuan knew what to do to calm his brother, he knew the amount of pressure to apply to Firefly’s scalp, he knew when to lightly tug at the ends of his brother’s hair and he knew when he had to whisper reassurances to little Qingqiu that he was safe and that there weren’t any monsters lurking around and that Gege was there to protect him.

Shen Qingqiu fell into a dreamless sleep, shielded by the comforting embrace of his older brother. 

Shen Yuan didn’t know how long he’d been in the Unknown. 

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes and yet Shen Yuan wouldn’t be surprised if decades had passed.

Not much had changed, his Firefly was still sleeping, but Shen Yuan could sense a slight shift in the air. 

The room seemed to ripple before a soft melody permeated the air. 

It was a beautiful song, haunting, but beautiful. The notes seemed to drip with suffering, each pluck of the guqin expressing sheer misery.

Shen Yuan's heart was beating out of his chest, in tune with the song itself. He quickly shushed his brother when he started to squirm, rocking him so he wouldn’t wake up.

Inquiry.

Someone was playing Inquiry.

Luo Binghe was playing Inquiry.

The notes were clumsy but powerful. 

They were calling for someone. 

For Shen Qingqiu.

The song was for Shen Yuan but it was calling for Shen Qingqiu.

(His Qingqiu was becoming restless but he couldn’t wake up, not yet. 

Not when waking up meant his Firefly would be confronted by his worst nightmare.)

Until finally, Luo Binghe called for his husband.

‘Binghe.’

Luo Binghe was going to cry. 

His husband had responded.

“Shizun,” played Luo Binghe, managing to convey his grief through unpracticed notes. 

‘Mmm. I’m here.'

The Peak Lords let out a sigh of relief, finally relaxing their tense shoulders. 

Luo Binghe wiped his teary eyes on his shoulders, playing on despite the ache in his fingers. “What happened Shizun?”

There was a long pause before a response came, long enough for the assembled Peak Lords and Demon Lord to wonder if Shen Qingqiu was lost to them once more.

There was a trill on the guqin, a sigh, before the spirit responded. ‘That’s a long story, Binghe.’

“We have time. Shizun, we have time. Please, tell me what happened.”

Luo Binghe would wait forever if it meant he could understand what went wrong. 

‘Would you believe me?’

“Always, my love. Always.”

‘Use Empathy, Binghe. But remember, don’t use the name Shen Qingqiu. Use no name or title except the one that connects me to you.’

(Shen Yuan refused to disrupt his brother’s rest and he refused to disclose his brother’s past, not when everything else about his brother had already been violated.)

Luo Binghe could never refuse his Shizun. 

And so he played Empathy. He played Empathy and he used the slightest bit of demonic qi with the song and he took the Cang Qiong Peak Lords along for the ride. 

Luo Binghe played Empathy and he called for his shizun.

Shen Yuan had meant for Binghe to call for his husband.

The War God of Bai Zhan didn’t understand his surroundings, couldn’t fathom why they were all in a weird world with weird buildings and weird clothes and weird people.

It wasn’t their world but Shen-shixiong was from their world and none of this made any sense.

Liu Qingge was about to ask the half-demon if he'd somehow messed with the world they were in, was about to demand answers from that brat when he saw them. 

There were two children sitting on a bench in a sparse garden, underneath a ginormous tree. The pathways around the bench were paved with large slabs of stone, meandering through the grass field. 

One child had a tanner face, a honey-like hue to his skin that contrasted with the rosy complexion of the boy next to him. He was wearing weird clothing, like the people around them, but he seemed to be comfortable, ecstatic even, as he wildly gestured to his companion about the complexities of adolescent life. 

There was a mole under the child’s left eye.

“Liu-shidi, it’s you,” said Qi Qingqi, delight evident in her hazy voice.

The second child had chubby cheeks, colored a soft pink. His nose was red from the cold but he was bundled up in a warm, green sweater. His eyes were wide and clear, holding a childish innocence that made him seem ethereal. His irises were a clear, jade color that looked like the sea itself when the light hit them at the right angle. His smile was infectious, a lopsided one that got caught on his teeth and made him look like a mischievous cherub. 

He looked like Shen Qingqiu. 

Qi Qingqi would’ve liked her shixiong more if he’d stayed like the child in front of her. 

The babies, they were tiny, were waiting for someone, in clear view of the adults that seemed to be in charge of them. They were surrounded by children that whizzed about the area with speeds matched only by the highly caffeinated. 

The Bai Zhan Peak Lord focused on the conversation, once baby him was done with his dramatic storytelling.

(“Liu-shidi, are you allergic to bees?”

“No.”)

“Who’s picking you up?” asked baby Liu Qingge, slowing down after he’d finished his story about his life-threatening experience with a bee.

“Gege!” responded Shen Qingqiu, his face lighting up at the mention of his brother.

(There was a silent coo amongst the gathered cultivators, who really couldn’t help themselves. 

Yue Qingyuan felt a faint flicker of hope in his chest, a small ember that wished that he was the brother this Xiao Jiu was talking about.) 

Liu Qingge was surprised. “He’s back?”

“Mmm, came back today.”

“Lucky. I want a gege. Brothers are better than sisters.”

(Shang Qinghua wished he could take a picture of the baby. “He looks so offended!”)

The War God of Bai Zhan could see his Shen-shixiong bristling at that comment, could see the arguments he was about to make, except he could also see a woman that looked like his mother come near them and he knew he wouldn’t get to hear the rebuttals made by the small child. The disappointment at that fact was almost enough to wash away the guilt he felt at seeing a version of his mother. He really should go home more often. 

“Hello my love, how was school?” asked Lou Xueyan.

“Good! I beat Qingqiu at a race!”

Lou Xueyan smiled before turning to the other child on the bench. “Well, I’m sure little Qingqiu will beat you again in no time.”

Shen Qingqiu nodded firmly, a competitive spark apparent in his eyes.

“Are your parents coming to pick you up, honey?”

Shen Qingqiu shook his head. “Gege is.”

“Ah! That must be exciting. Now, would you like us to stay with you until your brother comes?”

Shen Qingqiu thought it over for a few moments. “It’s okay, Auntie Lou. Gege said he’d be late.”

Lou Xueyan smiled softly, ruffling Shen Qingqiu’s hair. “Are you sure sweetie? We would love to stay with you.”

Shen Qingqiu let his grin widen. “I’m okay! I can wait alone.”

“Okay, sweetie. Just make sure you stay near a teacher at all times, okay?” said Lou Xueyan, her smile widening in response. 

“Okay!”

Lou Xueyan walked out of the school grounds while clutching onto Liu Qingge’s hand.

(How she wished she had just stayed with the child on that cold December day.)

There was an indulgent smile on Luo Binghe’s face as he watched the interaction. He couldn’t make himself be jealous of the easy friendship between his Shizun and his Shishu, not when they were so young and so innocent.

The world was weird and the memories were weirder but his Shizun was happy and Luo Binghe would die a hundred times if it meant his Shizun would be happy. 

Except, a hooded man was walking towards Shen Qingqiu, his clothing too arcane to blend into the world surrounding them.

No one seemed to notice him, their glazed eyes would skip over the menacing figure as if he was nothing but a tree. 

There was a sword strapped to the man, pulsating with every step the figure took. 

The teachers still didn’t notice.

The Bai Zhan Peak Lord clutched his sword when he recognized the figure, ready to unsheathe it at a moment’s notice even though he knew he couldn't do anything. These were memories.  

Baby Qingqiu jumped off of the park bench, picking up his backpack and slinging it over his thin shoulder. He walked calmly to the gates of the school, admiring the small plants that grew along the side of the pathway. 

He didn’t see Demon Lord Luo Binghe come up behind him, didn’t notice him until his feet were off of the ground and his mouth was covered and he couldn’t move and people could see him but they weren’t helping and they were going back into the trees and then Shen Qingqiu couldn’t see anymore. 

Luo Binghe looked just as shocked as everyone else at what had happened. He was shocked but not confused.

“H-he’s from a different world.” Luo Binghe swallowed before he continued. “Xin Mo can t-transport you between worlds, oh god, he has shizun.”

Liu Qingge held his sword just a little bit tighter.

Shen Qingqiu was lying on the ground when he woke up. There was dust all over his clothes and stones in his shoes and cobwebs in his hair.

Shen Qingqiu frantically tried to get the webbing off of him, checking for spiders all the while. He quickly glanced at his surroundings before shifting his focus to the spiderwebs in his hair. 

He moved to the center of the room, away from the corners filled with more webs and webs meant spiders and spiders were scary but Shen Qingqiu didn’t know where his parents were and he didn’t know where his gege was and they couldn’t get rid of the spiders and Shen Qingqiu hated spiders.

(Liu Qingge didn’t know what to do.

Shen Qingqiu was a child and Shen Qingqiu was scared and Liu Qingge had had no experience with either of those Shen Qingqius but the child was scared and this was a memory so it wasn’t like Liu Qingge could do anything. 

That logic didn’t stop him from twitching with unease, buzzing with the need to do something to help.)

Spiders were scary and Shen Qingqiu hated them and then the spiders were the least of his worries. 

Because a man was standing in front of him and he was hurting Shen Qingqiu and Shen Qingqiu was in pain and he was so afraid.

Shen Qingqiu was in pain and a man with a glowing forehead was causing him pain and he wouldn’t stop. 

It didn’t matter if Shen Qingqiu was crying or begging, it didn’t matter if he was screaming or whimpering, it didn’t matter as long as Shen Qingqiu was hurting.

Shen Qingqiu was hurting and then he was dead.

No one dared to break the silence that followed Shen Qingqiu’s death. 

Shang Qinghua turned around, heaving with the effort to not vomit. 

He was the one who made Luo Bingge.

He was the one who had painstakingly created the character, had chosen his name after weeks of deliberation, and he was the one who wrote his story.

He was Luo Bingge’s creator.

Shang Qinghua had created a child’s murderer.

Shang Qinghua had created a child’s torturer.

Ruan Qingruan was the one who broke the silence, directing his question to Mu Qingfang. “I-is it possible that Shen-shixiong remembered this? Is that why he deviated?”

Luo Binghe looked devastated.

Mu Qingfang hesitated before he responded. “This one does not know.”

Another bout of silence settled onto the group, disturbed only by Shang Qinghua's silent heaves. 

They dawdled for a while longer, absorbing the horrific images they saw before soldiering on. 

They had no other choice if they wanted to figure out why their martial brother had died. 

There was a baby in a ditch and then that baby was in the arms of a child and that baby became a child and then the child became a slave. 

Shen Qingqiu was a soul that became a baby that became a slave.

(Liu Qingge wanted to help but he couldn’t and it was destroying him.

It was destroying Xiao Jiu as well.)

Shen Qingqiu became Xiao Jiu.

The Qiu Manor became a delicacy dipped in poison, because Xiao Jiu was always hurt and every day he was a little bit more broken but he was warm, and he had food, and shelter, and he had a friend.

None of that stopped the Qiu Manor from turning into ash, not when Qiu Jianluo had taken it too far.

(The sheer terror on Shen-shixiong’s face as he was held down by Qiu Jianluo was going to haunt Mu Qingfang for the rest of his life.

He was fourteen. A child.)

Wu Yanzi valiantly tried to eclipse the Qiu Manor in terms of trauma, using Shen Jiu like a test subject, ruining him beyond repair in that short year.

Shen Jiu was made to steal, to threaten, to murder, to torture.

He was made to sit and take the abuse because resisting always made it hurt more. 

He was made to kill a final time when he saw Yue Qi stand in front of him, clothed in garments Shen Jiu could only dream of.

The last dregs of hope drained from Shen Jiu’s eyes that night.

(Qi Qingqi tried to not feel gleeful at the fates of those scum. She failed.

Her grin was vicious, promising vengeance upon anyone who’d go against her at that moment. 

No one dared.

None of them wanted to anyway.

The Qiu Family and Wu Yanzi deserved everything they got. And Qi Qingqi would obliterate anyone who said otherwise.)

The relationship between the two slaves, Shen Jiu and Yue Qi, became a noose for them to hang on.

Shen Jiu became Shen Qingqiu but he was still just Xiao Jiu to Yue Qingyuan. He was still just the slave boy who would fight with the other street children and steal from the noble ones.

Shen Qingqiu remained the slave boy that had a tongue that dripped poison and a mind that could bend reality itself.

Shen Qingqiu was nothing more than Xiao Jiu to Yue Qingyuan, was nothing more than a slave child in Yue Qingyuan’s eyes. 

Shen Qingqiu was vicious, untrusting, untrustable, spiteful, and ruthless because Xiao Jiu was vicious, untrusting, untrustable, spiteful, and ruthless and Shen Qingqiu was always just Xiao Jiu to Yue Qingyuan.

Yue Qingyuan, therefore, saw a conviction where other people saw an accusation. 

Every attempt at smoothing things over, every attempt at reconciliation ended in disaster because Shen Qingqiu wasn’t Xiao Jiu. 

Shen Qingqiu was vicious, untrusting, untrustable, cruel, spiteful, and ruthless, but he wasn’t desperate.

Not anymore.

(Not yet.)

And so Yue Qingyuan apologized for faults that did not belong to Shen Qingqiu, rebuked Shen Qingqiu for slights made against his own person, and defended everyone but Shen Qingqiu because Yue Qingyuan cared and he was the only one that did and the consequences didn’t matter as long as he intended to help.

(Yue Qingyuan had never thought his heart could break further. Not after he’d seen Xiao J- Shen-shidi’s corpse in the Qian Cao infirmary.

Not after he’d seen Xiao J- Shen Qingqiu’s torture.)

There was a child in front of Shen Qingqiu and the child was smiling and it was that same smile and Shen Qingqiu was going to lose his mind.

Luo Binghe left with tea dripping down his head. His smile was gone. 

Shen Qingqiu watched the child leave with something akin to dread pooling in his stomach.

(Luo Binghe just wanted this all to be over, he wanted it all to stop.

He didn’t want to watch his early years at the sect, he didn’t want to remember how he’d felt in those days. 

He didn’t want to see the fear in his Shizun’s eyes, didn’t want to see dread where he’d gotten used to seeing love. 

Luo Binge wanted to not be pained by his past and he wanted his shizun to not be in pain because of his past and he wanted it all to stop.

But they needed to know and so they had to continue.)

The Qi deviation never came. 

“Is this another world?”

Shen Qingqiu was a peak lord, a strong one too, in mind if not in body.

He was a peak lord who’d had many Qi deviations before and he knew how to stop them.

Shen Qingqiu was a child who’d been hurt before and he knew how to lessen the pain.

And so when Liu Qingge swung his sword at Shen Qingqiu, he didn’t move.

There was a big man in front of him and he was going to hurt Shen Qingqiu and he couldn’t do anything about it because he’d tried everything already and Shen Qingqiu was going to be in pain.  

(The Qi deviation hadn’t happened and Shen Qingqiu had still tried to save him and Liu Qingge didn’t know what to do about that.

He didn’t know what he would do if he saw Shen Qingqiu die by Cheng Luan’s blade.)

Shen Qingqiu knew that it would hurt less if he stopped resisting.

The Peak Lord of Qing Jing closed his eyes. 

The blow never came.

Liu Qingge couldn’t kill his shixiong, but he would if this continued and his shixiong wasn’t fighting him and. 

Liu Qingge refused to kill his shixiong.

(Qingge couldn’t kill his Qingqiu.

He couldn’t kill his best friend, the one that hadn't woken up on that cold December day.)

Liu Qingge slit his own throat. He died a quick death.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t notice. He’d had a qi deviation of his own.

There was a man in front of him and Shen Qingqiu was going to be in pain again. 

(Liu Qingge thanked the gods above that their world had been kinder.)

Shen Qingqiu’s only solace was his grandmother in the brothel.

Nobody else wanted anything to do with him, not after he’d killed the War God of Bai Zhan.

His grandmother, by relation if not by blood, was his only comfort. 

She used to softly card her hand through his hair with hands aged by time, gently massaging his scalp while singing him to sleep. 

She used to grant him peace, a cocoon of safety for his tired mind.

She used to live.

She died. 

There was an angry patron, one drunk on power and wine.

She’d been protecting her girls and she’d paid the price for it.

Shen Qingqiu hadn’t even been able to go to her funeral.

(Liu Qingge was glad that their world was kinder.

It had to be kinder.)

Shen Qingqiu was being tortured again.

It didn’t matter. It would end soon.

(Liu Qingge wondered how the Peak Lords had messed up so spectacularly.

How a single death had changed so much.

Shen Qingqiu had tried to save him, he always did.

In that mission with Shang Qinghua and then in the caves. 

And yet, Liu Qingge was never able to pay him back, not in those worlds. 

At least he’d had the opportunity to do so in this life.

Their world had been kinder.)

“Will you not admit to your faults, Shen-shidi?”

Shen Qingqiu maintained his silence, looking blankly ahead until Yue Qingyuan left of his own accord.

Yue Qingyuan always left.

Shen Qingqiu died.

Again.

He’d killed himself. 

(Liu Qingge told himself that this wasn’t their world, that this hadn’t happened, that they’d been kinder to their Shen Qingqiu.

It still didn’t change the fact that Shen Qingqiu’s corpse was in front of him, torn apart beyond recognition by a maniac frothing at the mouth for blood.)

There was a child, no older than 5, sitting with his friend on a bench.

His gege was supposed to pick him up but he was running late and he was fine with waiting Auntie Lou, you don’t have to stay.

(Shang Qinghua couldn’t watch. Not again.)

Luo Binghe hated that child and Xin Mo’s power was burning in his veins and he’d missed torturing his shizun. He’d missed the blood on his hands and now he could hear the screams that he’d tried so hard to produce. His Shizun had never screamed but this one did and it was music to Luo Binghe’s ears. 

It took less than a day for that child to turn into a corpse.

It had taken him half a day to die, the first time around. 

12 hours of pain and misery. 

16 hours had passed this time. 

The extra time didn’t matter, not when Shen Qingqiu was still dead by the end of it.

(Luo Binghe knew that he wasn’t the one torturing his shizun, he knew he’d never done any of it but he also knew that he could.

He just wanted this all to end.)

Shen Qingqiu was Xiao Jiu and the Qiu Manor was ash and Wu Yanzi was dead. 

Liu Qingge hated him and Yue Qingyuan thought the worst of him but Xiao Jiu was still alive. 

Xiao Jiu became Shen Qingqiu again and he saw that same smile and.

Please, just leave me alone.

There was a qi deviation and then the world shifted.

The scenes that had been tainted by shades of grey seemed to brighten, the memories lighting up.

The soul in Shen Qingqiu’s body was replaced. 

(It was supposed to be a kinder world, no this can’t be happening. They’d tested for possession for heaven's sake! This couldn’t be happening.

Theirs was a kinder world. It was supposed to be kinder.)

They could recognize him now, the new Shen Qing- Shen Yuan.

Shen Qingqiu’s brother. 

Shen Qingqiu’s older brother. The one that was supposed to pick up Shen Qingqiu. 

The one that was forced to become someone he was not at the whims of a higher power. 

(Luo Binghe just wanted his shizun, he just wanted his husband.

He didn’t want to see any shizun in pain and he never wanted to see his husband be controlled by a higher power and how were they supposed to fix any of this?! )

Shen Yuan was watching his brother’s torture and then he was watching his brother’s second life and then he was watching as his husband rushed towards him while he was dying of a qi deviation. 

Luo Binghe stopped playing Empathy. They didn’t need to see anything else. They knew now.

Qi Qingqi took back what she’d thought about Shen Qingqiu. 

She wished her shixiong hadn't stayed as a child in those other worlds.

She wished her shixiong had been able to grow up.

‘Binghe? Can you hear me?’

Luo Binghe tried to not let his tears blind his vision, carefully strumming his guqin as he answered. “Yes.”

‘Who did you call for Binghe?’

“Shizun,” strummed Luo Binghe. 

Shen Yuan tightened his hold on his brother, gently soothing him while trying to figure out what he could do. 

Binghe wasn’t supposed to watch Firefly’s memories, Shen Yuan had hoped he could spare both of them that pain. 

But Shen Yuan could never do anything right and they would suffer anyway. 

That didn’t mean Shen Yuan would stop trying. 

Not yet.

‘Binghe, I need you to do something for me. Do you remember the Sun and Moon Dew Flowers? Well...’

Shen Qingqiu wasn’t waking up. 

Shen Yuan knew it would take a while for the soul to bind and he knew it had only been four days but he’d just gotten his brother back and now he wasn’t waking up.

He was alive but he wasn’t waking up and he was a child. 

Shen Yuan was seated on an infirmary bed, cradling Shen Qingqiu against his chest like a newborn. There was a blanket wrapped around the sleeping child, the softest one they could find. 

Shen Yuan smiled as his husband came into the infirmary, unsure steps treading across the floor, nearly soundless. 

His grip on his brother tightened, becoming just the slightest bit constricting before the hesitant expression on Binghe's face relaxed Shen Yuan once more. 

Binghe. His Binghe. Not the torturer. 

“Is he awake?” whispered Luo Binghe. 

“Not yet.”

Luo Binghe nodded. “I brought you some lunch if Shizun feels like he can eat.”

The smile on Shen Yuan’s face became fonder. “Mmn. We’ll eat together.”

Luo Binghe's eyes widened, surprise apparent on his face.

“A-are you sure? What if-” Luo Binghe took a deep breath and continued. “-what if your brother wakes up, Shizun?”

(“You don’t have to call me Shizun anymore, Binghe.”

Luo Binghe didn’t know what else he could use. Because his shizun was his husband’s brother but his husband was the only one who’d ever acted like a true Shizun to him and it wasn’t fair to any of them because a version of Luo Binghe had fucked up and now Luo Binghe didn’t know how to feel about his husband’s brother. 

Luo Binghe knew how he felt about a tortured child, a child that was technically his family. 

Luo Binghe also knew how he felt about his old shizun, the adult who was supposed to be his guardian but had never guarded him from anything. He hadn’t hurt him directly but he hadn’t stopped the hurt either and Luo Binghe knew how he felt about him. 

Luo Binghe didn’t know how he felt about the tortured child in his husband’s arms who was his family and his old shizun at the same time.   

“I-I want to. Please.”)

Shen Yuan shifted the bundle in his lap so he could sit up straighter, uncovering the child’s face in the process. It was slack with sleep, the mouth slightly open to reveal missing milk teeth. 

There was a serenity to his features that Luo Binghe had never seen before, not in the memories and certainly not in real life. It was easier in these moments to see a child and not be conflicted. 

Luo Binghe would never harm him either way, he’d protect the child with his life, but it was easier to do so when all Luo Binghe could see was a child.

Shen Yuan held out his hand to Luo Binghe. “He won’t be waking up anytime soon, beloved. Let’s eat.”

“Do you want to hold him?”

Shang Qinghua looked at his friend with surprise dripping from his face. 

He didn’t think Shen Yuan would ever even talk to him again and yet. Here he was. Asking if Shang Qinghua wanted to hold the precocious child currently residing in his embrace.

Shang Qinghua wanted to hold the child. 

Shang Qinghua wanted nothing to do with the child.

Shang Qinghua wanted to not hurt the child. 

He wanted to know that the child wasn’t hurt.  

Shang Qinghua nodded weakly, looking closely at Shen Yuan’s face to see if there was any doubt, any hesitation, and found nothing of the sort. 

Shen Yuan transferred his sleeping brother into Shang Qinghua’s embrace, tucking the blanket securely around his Firefly once Shang Qinghua’s arms had wrapped around the child. 

Shen Qingqiu was light, worryingly light, but he was warm.

He was alive. His ice prince villain son was alive and he wasn’t being tortured and he was warm. 

Shang Qinghua blinked back his tears, clearing his throat before he started to speak. 

“Thank you.”

Shen Qingqiu was warm.

He was always warm when he was in the haze. 

It was comforting, soothing even. 

Shen Qingqiu was never in pain when he was in the haze. 

He wouldn’t be here for long though, he was never able to stay in the haze. 

He wanted to stay sometimes.

Like when his chest hurt too much and his legs felt like they’d been ripped off of him and he couldn’t breathe because his throat wasn’t working and he couldn’t see.

He wanted to stay when that happened. 

But he never did. He could never stay. 

He never had a choice. 

Shen Qingqiu knew he had a choice now, he knew that he could stay here. For good. 

Shen Qingqiu wanted to stay, he wanted to not be in pain. He wanted to stay.

But his gege was asking him to leave. 

Shen Qingqiu could feel his gege surround him, could hear his brother’s soft lullabies, could feel his brother’s hand gently scratching at his scalp, could hear his strong heartbeat. 

Shen Qingqiu could hear his brother asking him to leave, to wake up.

And so Shen Qingqiu did.

Because his gege was supposed to pick him up but he’d told Shen Qingqiu that he’d be a little late. 

His gege had been late but that was fine because Shen Qingqiu had waited. It was fine because his gege had come to get him. Shen Qingqiu had waited and his gege had shown up and he was asking Shen Qingqiu to leave, to wake up, and Shen Qingqiu could never refuse his gege. 

Shen Qingqiu woke up to a soft kiss on his forehead and a quiet ‘I love you’ in his ears.