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Chapter Text

There is a certain expectation to the transmigration experience. A disembodied voice to cheer you on, a gentle awakening in a room where one can put the pieces together, an opportunity for a chance to catch one's breath.

Shen Yuan, his chest spasming, jolts awake to find that he can't breathe. He snaps his eyes open, only to find his eyes stinging and blurry. His hands scramble, but they're so heavy, he can't breathe, can't—

"Stupid—IDIOT!" a voice screams, shrill and cracking with ferocity. Vicious hands slam down against Shen Yuan's chest, and he chokes and splutters on an outraged objection. That hurts! What the hell? What the HELL? He can't make out more of the person than a blur of pale skin and dark hair.

It begins to occur to him, slowly, that this whole experience should not be happening. He'd been half-in half-out of the shower last he remembered, very, very alone. He'd still been breathing. He'd been cursing that damn book aloud.

"BREATHE you fool! BREATHE!" that furious voice is demanding, the cruel hands scrambling and clawing at his clothes, as if that will help somehow. Shen Yuan slaps weakly at those arms, and the person makes a vicious, offended sound before—

SMACK!

Shen Yuan's head jolts to the side, slapped hard, and in his surprise he chokes up a mouthful of blood.

"You BRUTE!" that person is screaming, hands back on his chest, "I don't care if you'd rather lay there and die that accept my help, you pathetic wretch, I will drag you back to the land of the living if it kills me!"  

And then those vicious fingers manage to dig under his clothes, against his chest, and then they're up against the edges of what feels like a burning hole in his sternum and—Oh, OW! Ow, ow, ow, what is he doing that HURTS!

Shen Yuan's hands twitch, the burning pain racing all the way through him, arcing outwards through his limbs from the core of him. Something about it is electric enough that his body spasms, and that, at last, jolts his lazy lungs into action once more.

One cough, then two, then—He spits up a great gob of blood, and the person above him recoils with his burning hands and a sound of outraged disgust.

That's my chance! Shen Yuan thinks, straining to throw his weary arms up and shove the stranger away.

It… Well. It works?

With the slight addendum that it works a little better than intended. There's the expected strain of biceps doing their best under extenuating circumstances, the expected dazed contact of palms to another body, and then WHOOM.

Light and force leap up with his will and pours free of him, wild and untamed, and explode in the space between their bodies. Shen Yuan is shoved back against the stone floor—which, ow—and the man above him vanishes in a heartbeat with a sharp sound and then the tumbling noise of a body falling.

Then, finally, it's quiet.

Okay, Shen Yuan thinks in that silence, laying flat on his back and blinking up at the world that's suddenly gone dark and still. Okay.

So.

That shouldn't have been possible.

And neither should the cave ceiling slowly coming into focus above him, with softly glowing ribbon formations and stalactites.

Haha, part of him says. What a realistic set.

Oh, another part says. I transmigrated.

Shit, says a third part. Shit, shit, shit, what the hell kind of transmigration lands in a scene like this? What the hell happened to me?

His breath—ragged and desperate, has been steadily slowing. The core of agony at the heart of him has settled, smoothing out into a dull throb more like the old carpel tunnel symptoms he's so used to than a mortal wound. The cave is still really really quiet.

"...System?" tries Shen Yuan.

There's a cheerful little dripping sound echoing through the cavern. There's his own still-ragged breathing. There's a wheezing whine that it takes him a moment to realize wasn't him.

Shit, that guy who'd been yelling. How hard had Shen Yuan hit him with whatever qi attack that was? Sure, he'd slapped Shen Yuan in the fucking face for no good reason, but he had probably been trying to help! And starting off a transmigration by making an enemy doesn't sound like a great opener!

With great effort, Shen Yuan pushes himself upright. Below his palms, the cave floor feels smooth and cold. He blinks against the dim light, his eyes clearing as he prioritizes his next moves.

First things first, he has to figure out who and where he is. If he hasn't accidentally blasted an NPC's head off with his cool new protagonist powers, he'll need to get some sort of idea who that person is, or at least who HE'S supposed to be in relation to them! He needs information here!

The cave is… Really cave-like, so that's not much of a clue. Not like he expected a neon sign or anything, but what sort of setting has just 'cave' without any real description to set the cavern apart from any other cavern? The lightly glowy cave formations are not helping.

There is, however, a sword flung halfway across the roomy hollow he's awakened to. That seems like as close as a transmigrator could get to a big neon 'you are here' sign!

Shen Yuan expects it to be some effort to rise to his new feet, given his new body's recent brush with death. He's not sure what to do when upon his first attempt to rise, his body springs upright so quickly he almost falls again.

The front of his clothes—robes? Whatever—are completely coated in blood, wet and still warm, which… Gross. He pulls at them with his fingertips, trying to tilt his head down to see what's wrong with him. There are fingerprint bruises on his bared chest, surrounding an angry red scar.

Extremely cool scar, but wow, Mr. Slap—who appears to be lying in a tangle of green robes completely across the cavern—sure has some hands on him.

Shen Yuan rubs a hand over his smarting cheek as he walks over to the abandoned sword.

He freezes in place looking down at it, wet with blood as well, but immediately recognizable.

He knows this sword. He'd owned a limited run model of this sword! Liu Qingge's famous weapon, Cheng Luan, interred with his body until chapter 457 when Liu Mingyan had to remove it from his tomb in order to aid Luo Binghe in conquering the Winsome Marigolds of the Eastern hidden realms! There's no mistaking it, and when he bends to check—yes, the name is engraved along its side. Not just a knockoff, but the real deal, Liu Qingge's weapon!

Which… Which means…?

Shen Yuan's hands fly up to grasp at his chest once more, but his initial view didn't lead him astray—he indeed has no breasts, so he hasn't ended up as Liu Mingyan during that climactic series of battles. It's possible that Cheng Luan isn't his at all, though, it's covered in blood and so is he so maybe—

He looks over at the fallen man again with a sudden spike of worry. Didn't Liu Qingge die in a cave like this?! Murdered by…Murdered by the scum villain Shen Qingqiu… Who Shen Yuan might have transmigrated into only to fulfill that prophecy!?

He's across the cave before he can think on it further, gripping the fallen man by the shoulder and turning his limp body to reveal his face.

Blood streaks over pale skin, twin streams down from closed eyes, dripping from his parted lips, staining the skin beneath his nose, but none of it can detract from the gentle beauty of the stranger's face. There's no WAY this is Liu Qingge—If the scholar's mark didn't give it away the green silks and elegant bone structure would have. No, this can only be Shen Qingqiu himself—The scum villain of legend! Who somehow now looks like a bullied and wronged maiden, as delicate and lovely as a fallen spring blossom! What the fuck?!

Shen Yuan looks down at his own hands—broad and strong while still maintaining an elegant look. When he clenches his fists his knuckles bleed white with the strength of it. The motion feels familiar and comfortable in a way Shen Yuan never would have expected. He doesn't even feel his nails poking into his palms! There are callouses across his hand, and he has a bet about what they're from.

Hesitantly, he stretches his hand out and thinks really hard about the potential for stabbing. The sword on the floor rattles, then flies to him as if it were on wires, only saved from looking ludicrously cheesy by the speed of the motion. Cheng Luan fits into his palm like he was born to hold it.

He lifts the sword, and almost feels the echo down his arm—how it would have felt to plunge it into his own chest. Shen Qingqiu's fingerprints are bruised into Shen Yuan's chest.

The story snaps into focus around him.

Liu Qingge lying on the floor of the Lingxi caves, dying, stabbed through by his own sword. Cruel hands descending on him, barking orders and struggling to see the wound and then, with a brute force application of qi, attempting to close it.

Shen Qingqiu, the scum villain, has just tried to save Liu Qingge's life in the Lingxi caves.

And Shen Yuan has blown him up about it.

With unsteady hands, he shoves away the high collars of the scum villain's robes and feels around on his neck. There's a pulse point around there somewhere, right? He digs in, and heaves a breath when he feels Shen Qingqiu choke against his questing hand. Dead people don't choke, right?

So he's not dead, and that's… Something. And Liu Qingge isn't dead either, if Shen Yuan is Liu Qingge now! There's a pretty alarming person-shaped dent in the cave wall where Shen Qingqiu hit, but… Well, he's a cultivator, it's probably fine. Shen Yuan winces at the sight of the blood smear trailing down from it, though.

Shoving to his feet he starts pacing.

"System?" he tries again, and when there's silence he tries: "Open Menu!" and then: "Open settings!" before switching to: "uh, god? Maybe? Some sort of… Great… Spirit?"

Nothing. Silence. In fact, WAY more silence than he's used to. No air conditioners or electricity humming! No distant traffic or airplanes! Wow, the Xianxia retreat package really has some unexpected luxuries…

He is alone here.

No system could be good news! If one looked at it from a certain way, it was like being thrown into a sandbox world with no moderator!

If one looked at it from another direction though, it was like being thrown in without a how-to guide.

Shen Yuan grimaced, looking down at Shen Qingqiu's still body. The scum of the earth really looked quite pathetic, fallen on the dirt. All the clues he'd managed to collect certainly pointed to Proud Immortal Demon Way, but Shen Yuan knew the hateful and ridiculous content of that disaster novel by heart, and he was absolutely certain that Shen Qingqiu had never done anything worth doing in his short, ugly life.

The fingertip bruises on his chest are so OOC he wants to cry. What sort of Alternate Universe has he ended up in?

He's pacing again before he even realizes it, the motion coming naturally to the spectacularly fit body he's found himself in. He takes a couple little practice swings with his sword while he's at it, then grimaces and starts working on wiping the blood off its blade onto his robes.

Shen Qingqiu still isn't moving.

No need to think about that just now! Timeline, timeline, if Liu Qingge was supposed to die in the Lingxi caves at this point in the story, then Luo Binghe must… He be on the mountain somewhere, he realizes, and comes to a complete stop, his breath halting in his lungs.

He is on Cang Qiong mountain. He's transmigrated into a peak lord! True, one that should be dead, but… Definitely a guy who lives on the mountain, so long as he's alive. And it seems like he's avoided the one death flag he would have been really worried about as Liu Qingge!

But Luo Binghe is on the mountain. If this is when he thinks it is—when Shen Qingqiu was supposed to kill him—then Binghe has been here for YEARS already, his sweet little lamb heart slowly roasting under the scorching hatred and jealousy of his vile shizun! 

…Who, again, just tried to save Liu Qingge's life.

Briefly, Shen Yuan entertains the idea that the slap and grabbing were actually murder attempts, and heaves a sigh when he can't make that much more convenient theory hold water.

With a scowl, he drops back down to sit beside Shen Qingqiu's limp form, glaring at him. Shitty shitty scumbag. Who's bright idea was it to throw him into a world where the character he'd advocated for castrating would end up saving his life, huh!? Ridiculous!

And yet, thinking of it…

Airplane had, through many many chapters made repeated winks at the idea that there was more to Shen Qingqiu than anyone knew. Sure, it was heavily implied that those were all bad things, and Shen Yuan hadn't doubted that, but wouldn't it be just like that little bastard to have had big plans for his precious scumbag villain only to abandon them?

…Nah, that was probably giving Airplane AND Shen Qingqiu too much credit. Maybe he'd transmigrated into a world that had already shifted its course!

Shen Qingqiu still isn't moving.

Slowly, Shen Yuan reaches out. He extends one long, elegant, powerful finger and, with every scrap of bravery he possesses, pokes the scum villain lightly on his cheek.

Teeth close where his finger had been a heartbeat before, Shen Yuan wasn't even aware of the instincts that made him yank back, and Shen Qingqiu is scrambling away in a flurry of green silk and black hair. Shen Yuan gapes after him, then stares down at his miraculously intact finger. Thank goodness for the war god's impeccable reflexes! He almost lost a finger to the scum villain's dirty tactics!

"Hey!" barks Shen Yuan in a tone of voice he's never used before. Liu Qingge's offense makes him loud and fierce as he rises to his new feet, still gripping Cheng Luan tightly.

"You dare!" Shen Qingqiu hisses, drawing himself up like a snake rearing to strike. "I should cut off your hand, you ungrateful wretch!"

Wow, Shen Yuan thinks. So he's the kind of person who wakes up all at once. Not even a groggy 'what's happening' moment, it's straight to the insults with this asshole!

"You're the one who was knocked out by a little explosion!" he yells back, gesturing at the wall. "I was practically dead!"

"And yet here you stand! How foul my luck must be, to deliver your survival." sneers Shen Qingqiu, sharply moving his arms in a way that makes his sleeves snap neatly to his sides.

Shen Yuan stares at him. What the fuck with this guy!?

"Touch me again and you will lose more than one appendage," snarls the scum villain of Proud Immortal Demon Way, straight and stiff, silhouetted by the light from outside the cave's entry.

There's a shallow pool of blood where he'd fallen, glinting just in the corner of Shen Yuan's vision. His cheek is still stinging, and his chest is still aching. He scowls, and the expression feels intensely natural on his face.

Shit, he's supposed to be playing Liu Qingge's role in this! What would the War God say? Hadn't Mingyan always described him as stoic and upstanding?

Setting aside his personal grudges, and the chant of 'castrate him!' that's been boiling under his skin since laying eyes on the scumbag, he clears his throat and bends into a short, shallow bow.

"Shixiong was hurt on my account," he chokes out. "Allow this shidi to assist."

Silence follows his words. And then is some more silence. When he risks a glance it's to see the scum villain gaping at him like he'd just ripped off his skin to reveal a xenomorph wearing Liu Qingge's pelt. More than just bamboozled, Shen Qingqiu looks outright disgusted. What the hell!?

"Whatever you think you're doing, stop ," commands the scum, fishing in one of his sleeves swiftly. He pulls out a broken fan and tries to open it before staring down at the shattered spine with an offended sneer. His fingers fumble in the motions, even as he turns and flings the broken fan against the cave wall, shattering it beyond repair.

"You're probably concussed," Shen Yuan points out, frowning. "I'm just offering—"

"Don't you look down on me!" snaps Shen Qingqiu, thrusting his shaking hand forward to point a wicked finger in Liu Qingge's direction. "Don't you dare! I'm not the one who nearly killed myself in this fucking cave today! No, you're not touching me with that uselessly unstable base of yours. Hah! Which of us is the failure now, shidi?"

Shen Yuan wonders if the urge to punch this guy came free with the body, or if that's just his old reader impulses being faced with another ridiculous and poorly timed villain monologue. The blood staining Shen Qingqiu's green robes and soaking the palms of his porcelain-pale hands isn't any less real just because the man's being a dick about everything.

A part of Shen Yuan would be delighted to see the back of this unpleasant character. See you never, Shen Qingqiu, thanks for nothing and enjoy the water prison!

Unfortunately, it seemed like Shen Yuan's fate is now also tied to Cang Qiong mountain. Sure, with Liu Qingge's power, sword, and a little practice he could probably book it before Binghe returns from the abyss, but wouldn't that be a bit of a waste? He's free from System interference, set loose in the novel that most needs fixing of any story he's ever read, and he's in a position of power to change it!

He just has to deal with Mr. Slap standing in the cave entrance and watching him like a vulture.

Well, in addition to 'good' and 'upright', Liu Qingge had once been described as 'straightforward,' right?

"You saved my life," Shen Yuan accuses. "Am I not supposed to be grateful?"

He expects another snap and snarl—he doesn't expect the peak lord of Qing Jing to recoil and flush, straight up his pale cheeks and to his ears. Shen Qingqiu stammers briefly, then whirls away, his robes swirling. The motion is so abrupt that the man's head injury seems to act up again, leaving him swaying. Yeah, he's definitely concussed.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Shen Qingqiu snaps, his head tilted to bark the words over his shoulder. He doesn't sound like he's wobbling on his feet. "If you qi deviate and interrupt me again I will kill you, Liu Qingge!"

Shen Yuan lifts a hand to rub at the bridge of Liu Qingge's nose, chasing away the headache Shen Qingqiu is steadily causing.

"Is it so ridiculous to try to better our relationship?" He mutters.

"Don't show me your face again!" snaps Shen Qingqiu as he storms away. The unevenness of his steps lingers in the caves far longer than his presence does.

Shen Yuan watches his retreating form in disbelief, then slowly leans back and places his hands on his hips. Not what he expected at all! What sort of story has he ended up in, huh?! What's with this slappable princess wearing the scum villain's robes?!

No, nevermind that, as OOC as Shen Qingqiu is, he has a bigger problem:

Eventually, Shen Yuan is going to have to leave the caves, and when he does…How the fuck is he supposed to act like a character who's never been in the story!?

In the shadowed depths of the Lingxi caves, a wisp of a soul watches as a stranger wearing his body drops his head into his hands and groans like he's been struck with a deathblow.

Chapter Text

Cultivating in Liu Qingge's body turns out to be just about as easy as breathing, all things considered. The war god truly was built to be a cultivator! Even mere days out from his "Nearly Fatal" (definitely fatal) qi deviation, the meridians under Shen Yuan's skin are thrumming pleasantly with energy.

Thank goodness cultivation seems to be an ingrained physical trait, because it's not like Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky ever bothered to actually DETAIL any cultivation techniques in his bullshit excuse for a xianxia novel! Dumbass couldn't tell a nascent soul cultivator from a hole in the ground.

It is, therefore, hard for Shen Yuan to pinpoint exactly what stage of cultivation the body he's found himself in is, but he's certain the warm thrumming in his chest is indeed a golden core, steady and safe as a second heartbeat. He's also discovered that Liu QIngge can do all sorts of cool moves, from one-handed cartwheels to that cool spring-up-from-prone move that the action movie stars do. He's even flown Cheng Luan around the cave a couple of times to test it out!

The only problem is, without knowing what he's doing, without any reading material and without any goal (why had Liu Qingge come here in the first place? Is there some sort of bottleneck he was trying to push through? Shen Yuan fan't find anything like that!) the Lingxi Caves quickly become… well…

REALLY boring. SO boring. No soundtrack? No cultivating montage? Even the qi itself, though it feels great, doesn't exactly have cool particle effects! He can make his hands glow if he works at it, but once he gets used to that fact it isn't much more than a party trick.

And if he's honest, Liu Qingge's body feels… Weird. It's like wearing someone else's clothes. Sure, they technically fit, but the wrinkles from use are all in the wrong spots! Maybe it's just that Liu Qingge was built for action, his body itching to move, while Shen Yuan would have been happy sinking quietly into meditation until he can recall every detail of Liu Mingyan's reports on her brother from her chapters. If only he'd ended up in a slightly more plot-relevant character he'd have been sure to know everything about them! Liu Qingge never even appeared onscreen! Shen Yuan had spent many chapters convinced that he was getting talked up in order for Airplane to eventually bring him back into the narrative somehow, but no. Liu Qingge's only role in the story was to be a nail in Shen Qingqiu's coffin and an arrow piercing Liu Mingyan's heart.

Boredom isn't exactly a new feeling. What's new is the lack of cures for that familiar ailment. It's hard to tell how much time is passing in the caves, but Shen Yuan estimates that between cultivating, testing out his new body's muscle memory, and dredging up all the things he can remember about the character he's supposed to play, it can't have been more than a week or two at most. And once he's done with that, he doesn't last more than another day or so before the boredom gnawing at the inside of his skull overwhelms him.

Who knows how long Liu Qingge's already been in the caves anyhow! By this time, the whole demon invasion plotline probably happened, given that Shen Qingqiu stormed off ages ago. Probably that was about the same time as Sha Hualing invaded. After all, it's not like the OG Shen Qingqiu would have hung out in the Lingxi caves with a dead body for a few weeks!. The murder attempt, or whatever weird scene had replaced it in this world, must have happened right before the invasion. In the story there had been some excuse from Yue Qingyuan about Shen Qingqiu saving the sect after killing their war god that had been used for a reason why he wasn't immediately thrown out on his ass or put to death himself.

Sorry, Binghe , Shen Yuan thinks to himself as he straightens out Liu Qingge's robes and pats the sheathed Cheng Luan at his side. This new Shishu of yours will figure out a way to help you out soon. Besides, you had to get Sha Hualing's attention somehow!

He exits the cavern where Liu Qingge died and Shen Qingqiu's blood has dried on the floor, then pauses in the narrow passageway outside the room in horrible realization.

Airplane had never once bothered to describe the layout of the LIngxi caves.

Lifting a hand to his temple, Shen Yuan rubs at his aching head and grits his teeth. At least exploring will be more interesting than huddling inside the same cavern for another week.

In theory, cave exploration is supposed to be an adventure. In practice, with glowing formations to light the way, night pearls hanging from the ceiling, and a basically evenly-spaced hallway of cultivation chambers… The Lingxi caves are more like an office building than a spelunking trek. All they're missing are copy machines and water coolers. There's even a built-in horrible coworker in Shen Qingqiu!

Shen Yuan can't even worry about going the wrong way, because his newly-sensitive eyes can easily distinguish between the pale wash of night pearls and the rich wash of sunlight filtering down from the other direction.

As he walks, he catches a sound behind him that seems almost like breathing, harsh and shaking. Shen Yuan pauses for a moment, gazing down into the dark and wondering who else has wandered in to further their cultivation. Perhaps it's whatever NPC would have found Liu Qingge's body in the original—it had never been mentioned who it was that discovered him.

Good luck to that guy—no doubt they'll emerge from cultivation into a world that's shockingly different, in a sect suddenly vulnerable to demon attacks and with massive amounts of rebuilding to be done. Perhaps they'll even cultivate straight through it all and only emerge years later, just in time for an immortal alliance conference they have no way of knowing spells Cang Qiong Mountain's doom!

Not Shen Yuan's doom, though. Not if he can avoid it, and he's pretty sure he can. He's got some thoughts about secretly helping Luo Binghe from the shadows, just subtly enough that Shen Qingqiu won't spear him and Luo Binghe—with his superior intellect and brilliant skills of deduction—will work it out in no time. It should be feasible, given the relative IQs of villains vs. heros in Airplane's shitty work!

(Assuming, of course, that whatever character disease has affected Shen Qingqiu hasn't affected every other character as well.)

Finally, blinking against the sunlight, Shen Yuan steps outside into his second life, breathing deep a breath of air that smells like pine, stone…and smoke.

Probably because of the gigantic smoke pillar rising from the massive building complex spread out below him in the distance.

The screaming only reaches him once he's stopped walking, no longer drowned out by the fall of his footsteps or the soft jingle of the charm on his sword. The wind sweeps up over the harsh, stony ground, whipping through Liu Qingge's high ponytail.

Far below, in what must be the main building of Qiong Ding peak, a hoard of demons is pressing forward, herding disciples into an ever more desperate defensive position, and Shen Yuan can see all of it because apparently Liu Qingge really has 'eagle eyes'. Cultivation is either no joke, or Shen Yuan got too used to needing glasses in his previous life. Is this what people with good eyes see all the time?

But more importantly:

Where the HELL is the scum villain!? Why is the demon invasion happening now!? Sure, Shen Qingqiu is supposed to sweep in at the eleventh hour, so close to filling a hero's role but with the entire audience knowing that rather than being a hero, there's no way Binghe's shitty teacher won't make everything 100x worse, but Liu Qingge should have died WEEKS ago now! Did Shen Qingqiu seriously just go back to cultivating with his dead shidi's corpse rotting a few caverns away in the original?! Or has the story just been on pause the whole time Shen Yuan was in the caves, only springing back to life once there's a reader present to experience it? That would NOT be great news for his plan to avoid plot beats at all costs!

Distantly, below the billowing smoke, Shen Yuan hears what sounds like a child screaming.

…Damn it.

All his practice with sword flight in the caverns has paid off. What was cramped and technically challenging in the caves has more than prepared him for the limitless bounds of the whole sky. Eat your heart out, high speed trains, Shen Yuan is faster by far now! (And boy does he ever get why Liu Qingge wears a ponytail now—how would anyone keep a fancy hairstyle looking remotely intact after flying like this!?)

The cluster of disciples and demons center on the courtyard of Qiong Ding peak, and Shen Yuan angles himself down towards it still at a rocket's pace. How, exactly, is one supposed to put on the breaks on a flying sword? It hadn't exactly come up in the caves when he'd been going two kpm in tiny circles! He'd just jumped off!

A dozen faces turn up towards him, eyes wide. His enhanced senses categorize them in a moment—A woman in a veil, a demon covered in spikes, a barefoot girl in scraps of red silk—A boy, thin and angular, his dark eyes wide, a bruise yellow-green with age scraped beneath one of them, his skin pulled tight over sharp cheekbones. A boy with eyes like a field of stars, and hair falling in disarray, already predisposed to curl around a Huadian he'll wear one day. A boy getting rapidly closer.

Well. No time like the present to make an entrance.

Shen Yuan leaps off his falling sword, and executes a perfect anime three-point-landing, his other arm held out to the side. The pavestones buckle beneath him, throwing up a cloud of dust. Cheng Luan whips in circle before him, driving back the crowding demons, before leaping into his open hand. Shen Yuan straightens swiftly, tossing back the bangs that fell into his eyes and glaring ahead at the clustered demons.

The knee and palm he landed on are definitely bruised, and the broken pavestones are going to be a pain to repair for someone, but the demons draw away and the disciples gathered behind him let out a wild cheer.

"Lets see you posture now, demon scum!" cries some snot-nosed kid in Qing Jing green and white disciple robes. "The War God Liu Qingge himself has come to face you!"

Shen Yuan takes him in out of the corner of his eye. Sneering, self-important, boring face, and a fancy little hairpin for a disciple. Yeah, that's definitely Ming Fan.

"My my, to think Hualing merits such esteemed company," croons the demoness, displaying her claws in front of her face in a mocking display of bashfulness. "The war god himself, leaving seclusion early just to humor this saintess! What an honor."

Shit , Shen Yuan thinks, scowling in her general direction. This is going to be a pain in the ass.

He clears his throat, scanning the crowd once more and crossing his arms. Surely somewhere—surely there's—

No Shen Qingqiu, but everyone else is in their places. Luo Binghe, bright eyed though he's clearly weary, burning a hole in the corner of Shen Yuan's gaze. Poor kid, poor little protagonist, hold out a little longer, at least you'll have the eyes of your future wives upon you today! Ming Fan, is present as well, and the girl beside him grabbing onto Luo Binghe's sleeve must be Ning Yingying? Probably.

And then there's Liu Mingyan—who else wears a veil on the mountain? She's the real reason he's hesitating, hoping this scene will play out without him needing to interfere more. Because of all the people on this fucking mountain to be transmigrated into—of all the people to be pretending in front of, it had to be Luo Binghe's smartest, fiercest, bravest wife, and he is supposed to be her brother!

Shen Qingqiu stubbornly still fails to appear.

"Will the great Liu Qingge not even converse with this poor saintess?" Sha Hualing inquires, voice sardonically sweet and her eyes frustrated with his inattention. "After all, we have come all this way to learn from the great masters of Cang Qiong Mountain."

Whelp. If no one else is going to handle this story beat, it looks like it's up to Shen Yuan! Just… Be respetable. Should be easy, right? Be a respectable, upright, moral cultivator!"

"If you hoped for instruction you should have waited for a master rather than attacking children," Shen Yuan warns, brandishing Cheng Luan and fixing his gaze on the girl. "Leave now, and your people may yet survive."

She's young, after all. And Luo Binghe is right there . He doesn't want to get in trouble for bullying her needlessly!

He feels a hundred sets of eyes fixed on him in confusion, and regrets every choice he's made in his entire life. In the corner of his eye, Liu Mingyan is squinting at him over the top of her veil, so bewildered that the item designed specifically to hide her true feelings isn't hiding her suspicion and confusion at all !

…Okay, great! Fine! Cool. He'll just… Play the qi deviation card when someone asks why he acted so weird here today! He's clearly still unwell from almost dying in the caves. Shen Qingqiu would probably vouch for that, since it has to do with making someone else look incompetent!

"My, how cruel!" Sha Hualing cries, her red-painted nails clasped at either side of her face in blatantly pretend horror. "Surely the master would not turn away a friendly competition when we have come all this way! Or is the war god of Cang Qiong frightened of a few little demons?"

Stupid plot, Shen Yuan thinks, even as he internally shrugs and decides to roll with it.

"What did our guest have in mind?" he asks, already thinking up some good excuses for following a plot originally given to a scummy cowardly villain.

Limiting it to three matches might reduce casualties! Engaging in the game gives more masters of Cang Qiong time to recognize the emergency and arrive! At least this way he can make sure the gathered disciples who look weakest don't get pulled into the fight too early! He's got plenty of reasons to engage in this stupid 3 vs. 3 setup!

Though, he thinks, his eyes trailing over, inexorably drawn to Luo Binghe…

Was he really this small during the fight scene? Maybe something else, aside from Shen Qingqiu's late arrival has gone wrong! Shen Yuan's already picked out the poisoned-armor hammer guy in the back of Sha Hualing's forces, and he's huge! He looks like he could split Binghe in half over his knee and pop him back in the woodshed with the other kindling!

"This master will fight first," Shen Yuan declares, even as his mind keeps whirring. That's GOTTA be in character, right? He resists the urge to look at Liu Mingyan to find out. All things going as they should, she'll fight second, and maybe he can get some information out of that! Though, of course, sheh'll lose that fight and then…

Oh. Shit. If Shen Qingqiu isn't here, who's going to make Luo Binghe fight?

Since the day Shizun headed into secluded cultivation, Luo Binghe feels like he's been living on borrowed time. Sure, the other shixiongs are still bothering him, but without Shen Qingqiu's hateful winter gaze following him everywhere, the weight of their scorn is a cold breeze on a spring afternoon—unpleasant, but survivable.

And of course, there's Ning Yingying, sweet and summertime all through the year, and now beaming directly on him, without her precious master to pester.

It's unkind of him to think of her like that. It's unfilial of him to think of Shen Qingqiu like this. Such thoughts have come easier and easier to him recently. Of course, of course, he must remember it was his own foolishness that lead to his master's hate—that his own failures and ineptitude have left him in this sorry state. He should be grateful he hasn't been kicked off the mountain. He should be grateful. He should be grateful. He should be—

It's the third day in a row that Yingying has asked him to go with her to Qiong Ding peak. She's convinced that Shen Qingqiu will be leaving seclusion any day now, and Luo Binghe can't bring himself to deny her his company—not when she's the only person in the world to whom such company is a gift.

It is the first time Ming Fan invited himself along though, harrowing Luo Binghe's steps like a sheepdog biting at the flock's ankles. Yingying's presence makes him pretend at civility more than he usually does, but it hadn't stopped him from snatching away mother's pendant and hurling it aside like so much trash.

Luo Binghe hates him—HATES him—wants to hurt him, wants to kill, wants to grab ahold and start tearing, piece by piece, until Ming Fan is lost on the forest floor, leaves among the bamboo that used to be a boy.

He shouldn't think things like this, but it feels so good to think about it.

"I hope he finishes up soon," Ning Yingying is sighing, gazing up towards the Lingxi caves from where they're standing on the plaza of Qiong Ding—the only place in the sect with a clear eyeline to the entrance of the caves, where on clear days like this one you might catch the glint of light off a flying sword as a cultivator leaves seclusion.

One day, Luo Binghe will have a sword like that, and then he will never have to be chained to the earth again. One day, he will be able to escape any situation—to leave behind anything he doesn't want to see anymore.

One day, he will be able to get home in time, no matter what stands in his way. He won't leave anyone waiting, and he won't be too late again, and—

The first screams reach them before Yingying has even expounded on the many many questions she will ask once their Shizun leaves seclusion, and the many gifts she will request of him. Sometimes, cruelly, Luo Binghe wonders what she would do if he told her just a tenth of what Shizun has done to him. If he told her how his shoulder popped out of joint from dangling from the ceiling too long while being whipped, would she pale and fall silent? Would it hit her like a blow, to know how vile— no —strict her precious Shizun was with her so-called 'favorite shidi'?

None of that matters in the moment. There are demons on the mountain, and Luo Binghe does not have a beautiful, gleaming sword. He does not even have any proper cultivation—his manual is a constant, agonizing mystery. He has no shixiongs he trusts to ask whether cultivation is supposed to prick like needles inside his veins, and Ning Yingying had laughed at him when he tried to ask how she stood the pain.

Ming Fan is supposed to be a head disciple. He casts about like a child as they are surrounded, and Luo Binghe sees him searching the faces of Qiong Ding disciples, seeking someone in charge—someone powerful he can answer and appeal to—someone to tell him what to do.

No one's going to help you, Luo Binghe thinks, and he almost smiles at the thought. Finally, Ming Fan has to start learning a lesson he himself taught Luo Binghe.

"A-Luo!" cries Ning Yingying, grabbing his arm, and the urge to smile falls away, leaving a sick absence in Binghe's chest. What is he thinking? They're all in danger here, even Yingying—his only friend on this whole mountain!

"Stay close to me," he tells her, falling back with the crushing tide of disciples, hoping to be one of the many—to blend in. They'll gain nothing by making a stand bravely and dying for this heartless mountain.

"What ridiculousness are you spouting?!" Ming Fan spits, his sword drawn but entirely unused thus far. "What use is staying close to you?"

Binghe shifts to keep him between the closest demons and Yingying, eyes scanning the scene. This situation is bad. Someone is screaming about the bridge. There are no adult cultivators to be seen, only disciples—green and unpracticed. The world is filled with the flashing of swords only because the hands holding those swords tremble.

Ning Yingying clutches his arm with both hands, clinging tight, and he aches to comfort her, but he can't spare the attention to. His mind is counting enemies— too many —and racing through options. Like this, there's no escape, bundled into the hoard of disciples. When the killing starts—and it will start—there may be a chance to escape with her. To get her out of this alive. Shizun would kill him for running— his mother would be so disappointed in him, using the lives of others as a shield— but if Yingying survives, so long as Yingying lives—

"There!" shouts Ming Fan, pointing, and the disciples catch a breath as one at the sight of a sword's light flickering in the sky. Luo Binghe hadn't even thought to look for rescue to come.

But, he thinks, his stomach clenching abruptly. Is Shen Qingqiu really rescue? Has he ever done anything but make things worse? Is there anything— anything— in Luo Binghe's experience that says his master won't just grab him in both hands and throw him to the demons?

Don't think the worst of them, his mother's voice cautious in his heart, even as her words are suffocated by the countless hands that contributed, unfeeling, to her slow, lonesome death.

Please, please, please, Luo Binghe begs in his heart. Please let me be wrong about you, Shizun. Please, help us. Help me.

Then a man falls out of the sky like a shooting star, and it is not Shizun at all.

Ming Fan gasps aloud before shouting an introduction to all those gathered, as if there were anyone in the sect but the war god who could appear in such a way in such a moment.

Like Shizun, the man is beautiful. Like Shizun, his cold eyes scan the the surrounding disciples in a single, offhanded glance.

Like Shizun, his eyes freeze on Luo Binghe, locking in place for one heartbeat, then two. Luo Binghe stares back, frozen by the abrupt regard. What is it, he wonders with a sick twist, that makes the masters of Cang Qiong look at him like this? What is it about him that they see, that makes it so impossible for him to be another faceless disciple in the crowd?

"We should run," he hisses to Ning Yingying as Liu Qingge addresses the demons.

"Don't be pathetic!" spits Ming Fan. "are you a disciple of Qing Jing or not?! You would show a cowardly face to Liu Qingge?"

Shen Qingqiu would beat you for the reverence in your voice when speaking of another master, Luo Binghe thinks.

And then before them, Liu Qingge agrees to a tournament. A tournament. Between demons and disciples.

Someone is going to die. Luo Binghe shifts where he's standing, placing himself more firmly in front of Ning Yingying, though she immediately undoes his work by leaning around him to peer ahead at the battle.

"This master will fight first," Liu Qingge says, brandishing his gleaming spiritual sword.

The demons shift, uneasy, but one steps forward with a great sword thrown over his shoulder, held by his singular arm, and the spectators on both sides draw away from the opponents.

"Watch how a real master fights," Ming Fan says, apparently to no one. His eyes are shining in anticipation of the violence.

Luo Binghe watches. The demon Elder One Arm charges, and Liu Qingge says "Hm" with a soft, questioning noise to himself, as if he's considering the weather.

Then Elder One Arm's other arm is flying through the air, and his body is still standing in place, a baffled look on his face. For just a moment, Liu Qingge looks absolutely shocked, his lips parted in soft surprise and his grey eyes wide with alarm. Then the expression slams shut like a door, leaving a cold mask once again.

Binghe stares at him, fascinated, even as disciples scatter to avoid getting blood rained on them or bludgeoned by the arm crash-landing to the ground.

"How excessive!" cries the demon saintess in delight, even as her own warrior cries out in pain and horror, staggering back to join the rest of her forces, leaving torrents of blood behind him. "Are all the masters of Cang Qiong so bloodthirsty?"

"Choose your second," says Liu Qingge, flicking the blood off his sword.

It would be cooler if he didn't glance down at the blood like he was a little scared of it. Luo Binghe steps closer, trying to get a better look at him. There's something about him.

"If only the same combatant fights every match, how are we to learn anything?" probes the demon. "I will fight, but only if the esteemed master chooses a new representative for the mountain."

She's still purring it, but Binghe sees the way she's fighting not to look at the blood, or head the suffering moans of her fellow demon.

"Brother," calls a woman wearing a veil from among the disciples, pushing forwards to bow to Liu Qingge.

The war god's lips tighten at the corner, and he nods, then folds the nod into a bow.

"Sister," he greets in return.

"I will fight for Cang Qiong Mountain," she says, before turning stalwart to the demoness and bowing to her as well. "Liu Mingyan of Xian Shu peak."

"Oh?" Sha Hualing purrs, her smile curling truer and a hunger lighting up her eyes. "It will be an honor for this humble saintess to instruct you."

We should run now, Binghe thinks, glancing at the enraptured Ning Yingying. Liu Mingyan volunteered, but there's no guarantee someone will for the next match, and if Liu Qingge has to pick—there are a few people from Bai Zhan in the crowd of disciples, Binghe thinks, but all of them are already bleeding and injured, having thrown themselves at the demons in the first skirmish rather than holding out hope for a senior to appear.

Part of Binghe respects that. Part of him—a cold part—wants to sneer at them as fools.

Either way, there's no telling who Liu Qingge will drag out of the crowd to fight—no telling how this situation will deteriorate when the three matches are over. For now, the leader of the demons is distracted with her fight, and Liu Qingge is—

Liu Qingge is staring at Binghe. Staring straight at him, locked on. Binghe freezes, staring back.

The man isn't watching his sister fight. He's watching Luo Binghe. Not Ming Fan, not Ning Yingying, Luo Binghe.

He doesn't look away until Liu Mingyan falls with a cry. A scrunch of disappointment crosses his brow, but he steps forward to offer his sister a hand up. She stares at the hand, then at him for a long moment before taking it.

"This Mingyan has failed," she says, her voice unsteady.

"You fought well," Liu Qingge replies, despite the fact that he wasn't watching and can't actually know.

"It seems it comes down to the final match," Sha Hualing purrs, gesturing forward one of her demon hoard, even as her gaze follows Liu Mingyan, as if she's loathe to let her prey escape. "Allow this saintess to introduce her third fighter. Be warned, his armor is coated in a deadly poison—"

Liu Qingge isn't listening. His eyes are on Binghe again, and this time when Luo Binghe matches that gaze, Liu Qingge nods to him, not even glancing back at the demon Sha Hualing is presenting with increasing volume as they are ignored.

"Can you?" Liu Qingge asks, and Luo Binghe's mouth falls open in shock and confusion. Ming Fan lets out a disbelieving laugh, and Ning Yingying squeaks, clinging tighter to Luo Binghe's arm till surely her fingerprints will bruise him.

Please, please, please , part of Luo Binghe is begging, his knees quivering. He has to say yes, of course he has to say yes, he's supposed to say yes, and die bravely, but he wants—he wants to live, he wants just once for someone to protect him and not just the people he happens to be near, he doesn't want to—

"Poison is a step too far," declares Liu Qingge, who not a sichen ago cut off a demon's arm without hesitation, turning away from him.

—die. What?

"The deal's off," says the war god, and lifts his blade again.

Oh, thinks Luo Binghe as the first war cries erupt from the demons.

Chaos follows hot on the heels of Shen Yuan's most recent terrible character choice, which he at least predicted this time. It definitely would have been calmer to call on Luo Binghe to fight, but he just… Couldn't.

Has he just nerfed Luo Binghe's first impression for his two coolest wives? Maybe! But it's not like Luo Binghe won't have more chances to impress Liu Mingyan, and considering how much trouble Sha Hualing would cause him and the rest of his harem maybe it's a blessing in disguise for him not to catch her attention too strongly! Shen Yuan hasn't forgotten how many of the contrived harem dramas ended up being centered around that one specific demon saintess, thank you very much!

So really, this could be considered as him doing Binghe a favor in the long run, and not just crumbling at the look of resigned fear in those dark, sparkling eyes. Like he'd been ready—been expecting to be hurt, and had only hoped it would be over fast. What kind of monster would see that look and still throw that little sheep to the wolves!?

Not for the first time in this confrontation he curses Shen Qingqiu with all his heart. Complex character nothing, secret character depth his ass, anyone who would look at Luo Binghe's cute face and still decide to send him to fight a poison-covered demon is irredeemable scum!

The fact that now Shen Yuan has apparently unleashed the demon hoard to attack en mass hadn't really occurred to him.

In theory, Liu Qingge probably has a bunch of cool AoE attacks that could take out a whole squadron of low-level demons like this no problem, but though Shen Yuan had spent some of his time in the caves waving his sword around, he had been trying not to bring the whole place down on his head.

Hell, he barely had the control to change this body's instinctual beheading reaction to Elder One Arm into a disarming strike instead! And even then, he'd meant to send his sword flying, not literally his whole arm!

This whole thing is giving him a headache.

His sword flashes, and his steps are fast, but even so with some disciples flinging themselves heedlessly forward, and others falling desperately back, and the demons wholeheartedly enthusiastic about flinging themselves into battle with whoever is closest, the whole situation is getting rapidly out of hand. Despite his best efforts, Luo Binghe is fighting anyhow, and he can't even keep a full eye on him, with how busy he is trying to keep all the other NPCs alive. 

There's nothing he can do about killing demons now—he's relying on his body's muscle memory, and those muscles are really very good at finding vital spots, it turns out. At least it changes the odds slightly, and makes the demons hesitate a little to charge headlong wherever he is! He can use his presence as something of a deterrent!

Liu Mingyan is fighting too, her plain sword still holding up, though not well, against the demons. If he remembers right this defeat was what propelled her to ask Qi Qingqi to let her attend the spiritual sword caves of Wang Jian Peak.

She is legitimately so cool, Shen Yuan really hopes he hasn't just gotten Luo Binghe's best wife killed with his inability to follow the script. Even if that would probably be good for his cover. She's definitely aware something's off, and that is going to be a problem for future him.

Assuming he survives this. The big guy with the armor covered in poisonous spikes is still very much up and about with his giant hammer, flinging himself and the hammer at anyone who gets too close, and laughing as they tumble away from him.

Luo Binghe is holding up a sword, though Shen Yuan didn't think he had one on him, and is standing between the demon and Ning Yingying, but there are so many demons, and legitimately there are only a bunch of kids on this peak, and Shen Yuan only has one war god body! He could try to throw a sword glare, but there's no guarantee he wouldn't just kill a bunch of disciples in the crossfire, and that does not sound like a good look for a peak lord!

The wind whistles so loudly and piercingly that the demons draw up short, covering their ears. Pine needles shoot forward from the surrounding trees of Qiong Ding, and a dozen demons scream, their wide-open eyes pierced by the suddenly very needle-like pine needles. In the wake of the deafening and blinding attack, green silk and shining silver.

Shen Qingqiu has arrived, and half a dozen demon heads fll to the ground in celebration of his arrival.

"Fool!" he spits, wild-eyed as he stares at Liu Qingge. "Will you just hack them to bits one at a time while they devour our mountain's disciples unimpeded around you?!"

"Hey!" Shen Yuan objects. "Like you would do any better!"

"I just have," sneers Shen Qingqiu, gesturing with an elegant hand at the bodies now on the ground.

"I've killed more," Shen Yuan mutters petulantly, even as Shen Qingqiu whirls away from him, hair ornaments sparkling in the light and no sign of the bloodstains Shen Yuan last saw him sporting. He'd cleaned up nicely over the last few weeks or months in the Lignxi caves, sneering at the demons now as if he'd never been harried and terrified, leaving fingerprint bruises in the chest of a man he'd failed to save, battered against the cave walls by a stranger wearing his enemy's body.

"You have come a long way to die," he sneers, eyes zeroing in on the suddenly more uncertain Sha Hualing without needing to be told who's in charge. "It will be this master's honor to fulfill your wish."

His qi rises from the ground, filling the air with dust and debris from the fighting thus far, and the demons roar, rejoining the fight. Some of the disciples are also spluttering and coughing in the wake of the cheap attack, but Liu Qingge's cultivation seems to be high enough that Shen Yuan can push back the discomfort with just a couple blinks. He steps in to fight as well, and tries to pretend that it didn't help to throw their enemies off balance with a mean, cowardly move like throwing sand in their eyes.

Everywhere he steps, there are pine needles harrying their opponents. Every demon he faces is already bleeding and bewildered.

The whole world is noise and screaming, blood and dust and pine needles, soon joined by rosebush leaves—razor sharp—and even flower petals. Shen Qingqiu must be stripping every plant on the mountain bare with his flying leaves technique, but Shen Yuan can't help but admire its effectiveness, at least! There's no doubt that he's managed to turn the tide.

"A-Luo!" cries a high-pitched voice, and Shen Yuan whips his gaze to the side where the spike-covered form of the hammer-wielding demon has tossed Luo Binghe aside, looming over Ning Yingying.

Liu QIngge's body is fast, but will he be fast enough to prevent this plot point from hitting a dozen chapters early? If Ning Yingying gets poisoned with Without-A-Cure, Luo Binghe might end up giving up his virginity to comfort her far earlier than he was supposed to with Qin Wanyue!

A whirl of green and sliver strikes first—fast and hard and terrifying. It's only after Shen Qingqiu's strike has landed and the poisoned demon is crumpling that Shen Yuan registers the hammer that impacted Shen Qingqiu's unguarded palm instead of Ning Yingying's unguarded head. His fingers—twisted and bleeding from impact, vanish into his sleeve as he whirls on the young protagonist, still staggering to his feet.

"Worthless beast!" he snarls, his good hand sending Xiu Ya streaking back into the battle before lifting open-palm towards Luo Binghe.

Liu Qingge's body wasn't fast enough to save Ning Yingying, but he's close enough now to stop Shen Qingqiu's blow from landing. He grabs his wrist, wrenching him away from Luo Binghe and shoving him back towards the demons.

"Focus!" he barks, as if he himself hadn't abandoned all the other disciples in favor of the protagonist's dramatic moment.

"You absolute brute!" Shen Qingqiu screeches in return, having to switch his hand into a defense against another demon's swinging attack. "I should have killed you in that cave!"

But you didn't, Shen Yuan thinks, glancing down at the protagonist's wide, terrified eyes—more frightened before Shen Qignqiu's lifted palm than he had been facing down a demonic hoard— before turning back to the battle himself.

What the fuck, Shen Qingqiu. Draw your lines somewhere that makes sense!

By the time Sha Hualing turns and flees, there are bodies everywhere. Shen Qingqiu's right sleeve is wet with blood, stained from inside where he's hidden his broken hand away. Shen Yuan gazes over the bodies, but he can't see any dead in Cang Qiong colors.

They did it, he thinks, somehow dizzy with the success. He doesn't know when that battle turned the corner from scripted to thrilling, but it did at some point, and they won . 

He steps closer to Shen Qingqiu, some part of him wanting to share that elation. The two of them did this, though of course the young disciples deserve endless praise for surviving long enough for their peak lords to see them safely through the conflict! The fact remains: Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge together repelled a demon attack against Cang Qiong, their emnity set aside in service to the greater good, and—

"Useless waste of a disciple!" Shen Qingqiu screams, turning on Luo Binghe like a rising tide. "I should have you strung up and whipped. How dare you abandon her to danger!?"

…Shen Yuan would like to rescind all of his positive feelings towards Shen Qingqiu. Heroically sweeping in who? Clever use of terrain against overwhelming odds? I don't know them. All he knows is the worlds biggest scum.

And no way is he letting it slide.

"Hey," he barks. "Talk to your own disciples like that."

Shen Qingqiu's lip curls, and he straightens up, turning halfway, before the words seem to register and he pauses, lost for a moment in confusion. Shen Yuan jumps into that confusion, gesturing towards the protagonist. "Come on, Binghe, let's go."

It's a ludicrous play. It's an outlandish play. It relies on a lot of things happening to work perfectly, but it really only needs one thing to work.

He meets Luo Binghe's dark eyes, and gives him a small, encouraging nod.

Luo Binghe stares back, then glances to Shen Qingqiu, weighing his odds.

Come on, protagonist! Pspspspsps!

"Yes, Shizun!" Luo Binghe cries, and skirts the still-frozen Shen Qignqiu.

"That goes for the rest of Bai Zhan's disciples too!" Shen Yuan barks, even as Ning Yingying makes a bewildered noise and Shen Qingqiu's eyes fix on him—white-rimmed and crazed. "Binghe where did you even get these robes? Don't let your shijies play dress up with you, you look ridiculous in green."

"Yes, Shizun, apologies Shizun," Luo Binghe says, fixated on him with what looks like bewildered fascination, even as he swiftly places Liu Qingge's body between himself and his master.

"You," Shen Qingqiu hisses, his lips curled back to show his teeth. There's blood on them again. 

Shen Yuan ignores both the blood and his words through sheer force of will. Sorry, Shen Qingqiu! If you wanted this shidi's respect and/or conversation you shouldn't have turned on the most precious lamb to ever exist! Shen Yuan just got done trying not to traumatize this kid! No way is he going to find out whether this scene can still be used to finalize Luo Binghe's pre-abyss blackening arc!

"A-Luo!' Objects Ning Yingying, loud and bewildered.

"I'll see Shijie soon," Luo Binghe promises.

"Let's go," Shen Yuan declares, dropping Cheng Luan to hover on the ground before him.

Shen Qingqiu looks like he's boiling. There's qi rolling off him in waves, his face flushing then draining of blood again. There is an explosion coming, and there's someone Shen Yuan wants out of the blast radius.

"Those who can fly, back to the peak. Assist those who can't!" he barks, then offers Luo Binghe his hand.

Binghe stares at it, breathing hard, as if this was the battle and not the demons they'd just defeated.

"Let's go." Shen Yuan urges, glancing to Shen Qingqiu, who appears to be working himself either out of his temporary paralysis or into a qi deviation.

Luo Binghe swallows hard, staring up at him, then gasps out: "Yes Shizun" and clasps his hand.

Cheng Luan flies just as smoothly with a tiny protagonist aboard as it does with only Shen Yuan. Luo Binghe holds onto him tight, shaking and panting softly. Below them, a confused Ning Yingying gives a little laugh and a wave.

Below them, Shen Qingqiu stares up with blood on his teeth, hate in the clawed posture of his unbroken hand, and something… Something strange in his expression.

Shen Yuan looks away, facing the skies over Cang Qiong, and busies himself trying to decipher which peak is Bai Zhan. At least if he thinks about that, he won't have to consider why Shen Qingqiu looks like he's burning with jealousy.

Chapter Text

"Shidi," Yue Qingyuan says, an untouched cup of tea cradled in both of his hands. "I'm sure you know why I've come."

"No idea." Shen Yuan as Liu Qingge lies.

Over Yue Qingyuan's shoulder he can see Luo Binghe bustling around in the attached kitchen, putting away the tea he'd used to prepare this little setting for the two peak lords. He's definitely stalling for time to listen in, but who could blame the little bun for being nervous? Yue Qingyuan is definitely here to steal Binghe back for Shen Qingqiu.

As if! If Shen Qingqiu wanted to get the drop of Shen Yuan he shouldn't have waited so long! Two days was PLENTY of time to pretend that Luo Binghe had always been on Bai Zhan peak! He's got disciple robes, a dormitory, and a cultivation manual to prove it!

And if Liu Qingge ever needs some A+ blackmail material, he's got an intentionally dangerous fake cultivation manual tucked away in his leisure house.

(Not that it can be considered much of a leisure house! Liu Qingge, why do you only have three rooms? Why does it seem to be a sitting room, a bedroom, and a bedroom for swords?! What is happening on Bai Zhan peak!?)

So when Yue Qingyuan sighs deeply and sets down the tea cup to say: "It's about Shen-shidi," Shen Yuan is ready.

"Shen Qingqiu? He saved my life," he says in Liu Qingge's straightforward, fierce voice.

Luo Binghe flinches in the other room, the utensils he was fiddling with jangling in his hands. Yue Qingyuan's mouth drops open.

"I qi deviated in the Lingxi caves. He saved me." Shen Yuan half-lies. He's pretty certain after going over all the facts about 800 times that Shen Qingqiu was trying to save him. It reminds him of Shen Qingqiu hiding his broken hand, mangled from saving Ning Yingying. It doesn't undo the other hand lifted to strike Luo Binghe, but that hand doesn't erase the broken one either.

Both is more complicated to address. The left hand, vicious and unrelenting and cruel—the right hand mangled from protective defense. It doesn't balance the scale, not even a little, but it's…

Well, damn it all, Shen Yuan's a reader of this stupid novel! It's compelling!

"He… What?" Yue Qingyuan says, blinking.

"He didn't tell you?" Shen Yuan demands. "At risk to himself, despite injury, he saved me. I owe him a life debt."

Yue Qingyuan looks like Shen Yuan just told him that Shen Qingqiu laid and hatched a clutch of eggs into scaber-necked goslings, but that's perfect. He doesn't have much of a defense if Yue Qingyuan demands Luo Binghe be returned to Qing Jing peak, so he needs this redirection to work.

"However," he says, summoning Liu Qingge's most concerned frown, "his injuries concern me. Zhangmen-shixiong, if he has missions coming, this shidi requests to assist him in their execution. To be assured of his well-being after saving this master."

Ugh, ew, please forgive this humble actor for hamming it up, protagonist! Luo Binghe is, indeed, staring at Liu Qingge from the kitchen with an almost queasy intensity, but so far Shen Yuan has managed to pretend he can't see his precious little disciple gaping.

"You had a qi deviation," Yue Qingyuan clarifies. "Perhaps that explains… And Qingqiu-shidi was injured assisting you? He didn't say anything about… But why…?"

"Shixiong," Shen Yuan presses his luck. "This shidi has misunderstood Shen Qingqiu. Please, help me make amends."

"Yes," Yue Qingyuan says, too quickly.

Ah, big brother Qingyuan, how has no one ever used this weakness against you before?! The glaring favoritism is so bewildering! What sort of sect leader forgets about a stolen disciple because his shidi says "I want to be friends with the worst guy in our sect," huh?

But then, what kind of sect leader charges into a rain of ten thousand poisoned arrows in a doomed attempt to save one man?

"Then I'll expect details on a mission soon," Liu Qingge says with a firm nod.

"Mm." Agrees Yue Qingyuan, still looking gobsmacked and a thousand miles away. He's getting a little misty-eyed, even. What the hell?

He leaves without ever drinking his tea, which is truly a crime. Liu Qingge frowns at the full cup, then drains his own decisively.

"Good tea, Binghe." he praises, as he has every time since he brought Binghe to the peak and had the boy brew him tea in a desperate attempt to live up to the fragile hope in his eyes.

"Thanking Shizun!" Luo Binghe cries, as he always does, something fierce in the response—like a drowning man clinging to the side of a raft.

If Shen Qingqiu wants his punching bag back so badly, he can pry Luo Binghe out of Liu Qingge's cold, dead fingers!

Life on Bai Zhan is not like any life Shen Yuan has led before. Disciples fling themselves at him any time he leaves the safety of his leisure house, and Liu Qingge's body defeats them all on autopilot, though fortunately far less fatally than he had dealt with the demons. Only Luo Binghe holds back, often hovering close by and watching with fire in his eyes, but never attacking himself. Often, he'll bring Liu Qingge water and a cloth to clean the dust off his face after a particularly heavy series of attacks.

"Shizun fought well," he'll praise, and Shen Yuan snorts, patting his disciple's head rather than answering.

It's simple. It's predictable. It's… a little fun.

There's definitely something wrong with Liu Qingge's house, though— aside from the sword bedroom. The doors blow open in fierce gusts. Shen Yuan closes them again. The new decorations he puts up fall off shelves or crumple off the walls. He rolls his eyes at the shoddy workmanship of An Ding, and tries to beat Binghe to cleaning up the mess.

"Good," Liu Qingge says with a nod, his arms crossed where he's watching Binghe.

Luo Binghe still doesn't understand how this could have happened. One day, he was the mud scraped off the bottom of a true cultivation disciple's boots, and the next day he's the only one of Bai Zhan's disciple's to be personally trained by the elusive master Liu Qingge.

To anyone who asks about it, Liu Qingge simply replies: "It's always been this way. Luo Binghe is my personal disciple." as if it is true. Sometimes after he says it he makes eye contact with Luo Binghe. Sometimes, when they catch eyes, he gives a small smile.

There are whispers in the sect of a qi deviation. There are murmurs of how such deviations can alter memories. There are rumors that Liu Qingge's brush with death left him changed.

There are rumors that Shen Qingqiu cast a spell on him.

Luo Binghe scoffs at the very thought of that.

Nothing Shen Qingqiu had any hand in could be as beautiful as this is—Could be so wonderful as his new master, with his wry, secret smiles, and the sparkle of his grey eyes, and the gentleness of his rough hands, correcting BInghe's posture or—rarely, wonderfully, impossibly —patting his head in gentle praise.

Luo Binghe has no idea what changed. He doesn't know what he did to deserve Shen Qingqiu's hatred, and even less of an idea what he did to earn Liu Qingge's regard.

He finds that in this case, he doesn't care. He has Liu Qingge's attention and approval—he will do anything to keep it.

"Shizun," he chirps, "when this disciple is finished training, may he prepare your evening meal?"

"This master can practice inedia," Liu Qingge notes, which isn't at all a 'no.'

In Luo Binghe's sleeve, Ning Yingying's latest letter will be ruined with his sweat. To have lost any one of her sweet notes would once have devastated him. Now, that pang is immediately wiped away by Liu Qingge's hand, touching the base of his elbow to lift his arm into the proper position for a killing blow.

"Brute," spits Shen Qingqiu when he sees him, fan unfurled before his mouth but not quite hiding the corners of his sneer. It's definitely on purpose—a display of his displeasure with the unasked for company that Yue Qingyuan has inflicted on him rather than returning his least-favored disciple.

"Shixiong," Shen Yuan returns, completely blank-faced aside from Liu Qingge's apparently-ingrained handsome scowl.

Shen Qingqiu stiffens further at the respectful address, his shoulders drawing back as if he were a bird of prey.

"Let's go," Liu Qingge adds, drawing Cheng Luan before Shen Qingqiu can say something mean enough to make him fly off the handle and hamstring his brilliant plot research resolution by slapping the scum villain across the face.

He flies fast enough that it's impossible for them to talk over the long flight. He feels Shen Qingqiu's hateful eyes burrowing into the back of his skull the whole trip.

It's not much of a mission. A simple hunt that Shen Qingqiu could definitely have done alone. Shen Yuan watches him the whole time, waiting for a backhanded strike to aim between his ribs.

Shen Qingqiu bitches the whole time, hissing and spitting vitriol with what seems to be increasing desperation. Shen Yuan starts up a fun new game called 'pretend Liu Qingge doesn't know what that words means', where in response to Shen Qingqiu's cutting criticisms and snide observations he just stares blankly at him until Shen Qingqiu gives up in the face of his befuddled expression and gets back to work—often with an increasingly bright red tinge on his cheekbones.

"There's something wrong," Liu Mingyan repeats, clutching her silk robes and glaring down at the table between them. "There's something wrong with him."

Qi Qingqi watches her with worried eyes. The girl hasn't been the same since the demon invasion. Of course, such an upset would shake any child, and though she is brave and fierce, Liu Mingyan is still a child. To have voluntarily faced a demon is bravery beyond belief for one so young as she is.

To have failed before the brother she idolizes may have been more than she was prepared to take. For him to now be snubbing her correspondances…

Qi Qingqi has never held Liu Qingge in particularly high regard. He is in many ways as much of a brute as that vile Shen Qingqiu accuses him of being. But she never thought he would be outright cruel .

"I will ask the sect leader once again to check on him," she promises, "but I cannot make him answer your letters, Mingyan."

"No one should have to," Liu Mingyan says, her eyes narrowed. "That Shen Qingqiu…He did something. I'm sure of it. Shizun, I'm sure. Please, have my brother draw the Hong Jing sword!"

"Mingyan," Qi Qingqi reaches out, cupping her disciple's hands in her own. She squeezes gently, taking a deep breath, then says carefully: "there was always going to be a day men started to let you down."

Liu Mingyan stares at her silently in reply, then shakes her hands away, standing sharply and storming away.

Qi Qingqi watches her go with sorrow in her heart for her student. It is, of course, possible that the snake Shen Qingqiu did something reprehensible. She will follow every lead she has to prove it if there is so much as a whisper of evidence. But she has known for a long, long time that Liu Mingyan would one day be confronted with the fact that her beloved brother is not the paragon of perfection she has always believed him to be.

If his impatience with failure has caught up even to his baby sister, she can only mourn for her disciple's flower bud view of the world.

Sometimes when Shen Yuan comes back to himself after meditating, Liu Qingge's items are strewn all over the house around him—robes, tassels, jewelry, books—even weapons. He tries to put them all back in place, and watches Binghe's puttering around with curiosity. Is the little protagonist testing him? Or is Liu Qingge's meditation so powerful it throws the world around him into disarray?

"What exactly are you trying to prove with this?" Shen Qingqiu hisses, glaring down the length of his unsheathed sword at Liu Qingge.

"Don't know what you mean," Shen Yuan lies, refusing the instincts screaming at him to draw his own blade lick swiftly clicking X on a popup window.

It's been three missions now. His resolution to ignore Shen Qingqiu into submission has carried them a long way past that first mission's clear frustration, anger, and distrust, but this still happens fairly frequently. Last time Shen Qingqiu had cornered him in an alley in the middle of an empty town to hiss 'I know what you're up to, Brute', which was fascinating because Shen Yuan sure as hell doesn't know what he's doing!

Shen Qingqiu's eyes narrow at him down the length of his blade. 

"What?" Liu Qingge huffs. (his character acting has improved a lot since he read all of the official complaint letters filed against Liu Qingge!) "You want me to talk to the mayor?"

With an expression that's halfway to a snarl, Shen Qingqiu whirls to stalk off. The hand he'd broken saving Ning Yingying doesn't shake anymore, and Shen Yuan doesn't really like that he'd noticed it was shaking at all, and definitely feels uncomfortable knowing that Shen Qingqiu never mentioned it or intended him to notice.

It doesn't fit. Like fingerprint bruises and desperate screams in the dark. A spoiled young master turned haughty, lazy lord should wield a nobly-gained injury as a crutch, guarding him from work.

If Liu Qingge hadn't seen the blood soaking his sleeve, he wouldn't have known he was hurt. If Shen Yuan hadn't mentioned Shen Qignqiu trying to save him in the caves, Yue Qingyuan never would have known it happened.

He keeps thinking about the trial chapters. About the kind of person who would sit silent before the sister of a dead man he'd tried to save, and say nothing as she accused him of his murder.

Binghe still flinches sometimes.

Shen Yuan updates his journal in short stints, as for some reason writing seems to hurt Liu Qingge's head—does this guy need glasses?

Mission 8: Shen QIngqiu didn't stab me again. He was a total dick to the merchant who hired us, but I'm on board with it, because the idiot thought a perfectly innocent group off teenage girls sneaking off to do girl stuff in the woods were demons. When he was done being a total dick he looked at me like he was waiting for something. I panicked and gave him a thumbs up.

Mission 9: I killed a Lesser Nightwing Elk without letting my cultivation get away from me and blow it up. Shen Qingqiu gave me a thumbs up. We might have a problem.

Head in hands, he stares down at the notes feeling like his brain is trying ot get out of his skull. The scum villain. Gave him a thumbs up. He'd been avoiding eye contact while he did it, gazing remotely into the treetops as if more monsters might appear at any moment, but there was no mistaking that he switched his fan to the other hand, lifted his thumb, and nodded approval.

Tea appears at his elbow, and he grunts appreciation, reaching out to pat Binghe's arm in thanks

The boy flinches away from the touch.

Fuck. Shit .

"Sorry," Shen Yuan apologizes at once, looking up from his notes to the sharp-eyed boy before him.

Binghe has already wiped away whatever expression he was wearing when he flinched, a bright smile in its place and his hands clasped before him.

"Shizun is working hard," he praises.

He's never asked about Liu Qingge's 'misunderstanding' regarding his placement in Bai Zhan. Shen Yuan recognizes the ruthless pragmatism of the protagonist, even this early. He might be loyal to the bone in his white lotus stage, but it seems that Shen Qingqiu broke those bones some time ago, and they didn't heal back the same way they were before.

Shen Yuan watches him for a long moment, then reaches out slowly, patting him directly on the head instead of roughly clasping his arm in companionship like the other Bai Zhan disciples tend to do with each other.

Binghe bends forward to allow the touch, his dark eyes falling closed behind the soft fan of his eyelashes.

"You should go play with the others," Liu Qingge notes, looking back to his notes. "They'd benefit from sparring with you."

"Respectfully, shizun, this disciple would like to learn more about the running of the peak. May I help?"

Shen Yuan glances up at him again. Luo Binghe is standing brave and tall before him, his eyes bright and hopeful. Ah, how could anyone resist his face?

"That sort of work usually falls to a head disciple," Liu Qingge notes.

Luo Binghe swallows. He doesn't fidget or flinch. He just waits, attentive.

"Here are the accounts," Shen Yuan says, fishing out a thick book from beneath his stack of letters from Liu Mingyan. "Binghe should familiarize himself with them before anything else."

The sunlight flashing off Cheng Luan when he flies is less bright than Luo Binghe's answering smile. A man could go blind in the face of such happiness.

"Fetch yourself a cup of tea before you sit," Liu Qingge commands, and turns back to his notes.

Liu Mingyan's letters weigh on him, but though his characterization is steadily improving—or at least people have noticed his strange behavior less—there's a difference between fooling his disciples who rarely saw the original Liu Qingge thanks to the number of missions he flew off on and fooling his sister.

Every time he starts thinking about how to do it, Shen Yuan can't help but think of his meimei. Of someone else wearing his body, trying to get close to her.

He never even starts writing a letter back.

There's a draft by Liu Qingge's bed. Shen Yuan gives up on trying to sleep the fourth week, as he's woken once again by a freezing gust of wind. He spends the rest of the night meditating on the roof, where at least the wind is a given. When the sun rises, he opens his eyes to find a steaming cup of tea and a bowl of congee at his side. Around him, his peak is waking bit by bit, evidenced by morning war cries and the sounds of impact against training dummies and fellow disciples.

Shen Yuan stretches, smiling to himself while no one is watching and digging into his breakfast. He's aware of the eyes on him, but it's not unusual for Binghe to keep watch while he starts in on a meal.

Mission 10: It wasn't a monster killing villagers. It was a person. Shen Qingqiu killed him. I can't prove he did, but he did. He looked wrong after he did it. It was the happiest I've ever seen him.

"Shizun," Binghe announces himself, setting down their evening meal at Liu Qingge's side.

The days when Liu Qingge had to scold the young man into making enough for both of them and sharing the meal are gone. Every inch Liu Qingge gives his little protagonist disciple, the boy has begun to take a mile. It warms him a little—a tangible, real way he's made things better for Binghe.

He has a peak where he's become a well respected shidi to his peers—though admittedly that's mostly due to his reputation as Shen Qingqiu's mortal enemy. He has plenty to eat, and a safe place to sleep, though apparently his shixiongs keep waking him early in the hope of getting a spar in with the presumed future head disciple. He has a teacher who never hits him, not even in training. And within this haven Shen Yuan has made him, even without his harem, his powers, his empire, Luo Binghe has begun to blossom.

And tonight, Binghe has a hungry look in his eyes that tells Liu Qingge there's something he wants. He lets his disciple stew in it for a while, enjoying the tea—the meal—the company. Not even the damnable draft brushing against the back of his neck can dampen his mood.

"If something's on Binghe's mind, he should say it," he notes at last, setting down his teacup wand meeting his disciple's star-filled gaze.

"Mm," Binghe agrees, a smile dancing at the corners of his eyes though his mouth remains solemn and stern. "This humble disciple did have a question, Shizun."

"Go on, then." Liu Qingge commands, even as Shen Yuan internally cheers this glimpse of the tiger playing the lamb.

"Did you ever really forget whose I was?" Luo Binghe asks. Shen Yuan's breath catches. Seen through by the protagonist, just as it should be.

"Aren't you mine?" Liu Qingge asks.

Luo Binghe seems to blossom in return, his smile wicked, wise, and sweet at once.

"Yes, Shizun. I'll be worth the trouble!"

"What trouble?" Shen Yuan scoffs, waving a hand.

As Binghe returns to his self-assigned chores, Shen Yuan takes the opportunity to observe the young man before him—so brave, to risk asking. He's come so far in such a little time.

Shen Yuan is going to absolutely destroy the plot to keep his Binghe safe.

Chapter Text

In theory, Shen Yuan has known since the beginning, who it is he's been playing friends with. It's no one's fault but his own if he forgot for a moment.

"That scum," Liu Qingge hisses to himself, staggering off Cheng Luan and back onto solid ground in front of his leisure house. 

Blood wells on his tongue with the word, but he swallows it back. He's not spitting any more blood for the sake of Shen Qingqiu! Not today! Bad enough that he's probably going to have to burn these clothes to keep Binghe from worrying about the bloodstains—there's no way he can wash them well enough to hide it. Liu Qingge's instincts have gifted him many skills, from cultivation to at least some level of proficiency with a calligraphy brush, but laundry is not among them.

Though even before the bloodstains he's have to know how to stitch them back together.

They're absolutely getting burned.

At first, all was normal. Not pleasant, certainly, but normal. An out of the way village sending to Cang Qiong for help. A mission that likely required one or two disciples, and despite that was being answered by two peak lords.

Shen Yuan isn't an idiot, so he knows that the original story's Shen Qingqiu never went on this many missions—how would he be present on the peak to torment Luo Binghe if he was constantly travelling to vanquish Alphalpha Raven Rats or Tormenting Malice Silkworms? It can only be a test, that Shen Qingqiu keeps taking missions. A test, or a challenge.

Liu Qingge never backs down from a challenge.

"The usual?" Shen Yuan grunts, gesturing at the hovering townspeople, who must have seen the flash of their swords descending, and are now gathering near to observe.

"Unless shidi has undergone a truly remarkable transformation into an entirely unique creature," Shen Qingqiu sneers, cold and sharp, "then this Shixiong will handle the hard work as usual."

'Wow, who pissed in your congee?' Shen Yuan does not say. He also doesn't say 'Does it make your weak cultivation feel better to pretend your natural skills are more worthy than my own?' Additionally, he doesn't say: 'Hey, is something wrong?'

In fact, he doesn't say anything at all. He crosses his arms, harrumphs to himself, and casts his gaze into the woods. If Shen Qingqiu wants to pretend that talking to random citizens is the hard part of this mission, let him.

His cultivation has stopped the bleeding, and wow he's started to take that for granted. He still grimaces as he peels his bloody robes off. Once, in his last life, his meimei convinced him to try waxing  while she recorded him and laughed.

Blood might not be as sticky as wax, but Liu Qingge has more hair on his arms and chest than Shen Yuan ever did.

Behind him, a scroll throws itself off the table petulantly. He ignores it and the other little sounds of movement and settling from Liu Qingge's definitely-haunted house to toss the ruined fabric aside.

Once he's finally stripped down to just his trousers, he takes a moment to catalogue the damage. The burrow marks the Gut-Tunneling Weevils left in his torso are already gone. They never got past Liu Qingge's qi-bolstered skin. They'd probably only left little welts before they healed away.

The cuts, though, are still red and scabbed. There are hundreds of them. There had been a lot of leaves.

Something shatters. Liu Qingge's head snaps up, too late. Luo Binghe is standing in the doorway, a broken teapot at his feet, looking at his shirtless master with a look of undisguised horror on his face. It's so natural, to feel his presence in the house. He's so quiet and unassuming, always here and working when he's not busy. Shen Yuan had been so pissed off , he hadn't even thought to look for him, hadn't thought—

"Shizun," Binghe wheezes, and Shen Yuan lifts his hands to pacify him, ready for another lecture about being careful on his missions.

"Shizun did that," Binghe chokes out before Liu Qingge can say a single word.

"Watch it!" Liu Qingge had barked, yanking Shen Qingqiu behind himself. It wasn't delicate—Shen Qingqiu squawked at the indignity, and a few strands of hair came free with Liu Qingge's hand—but it got him out of the way of the weevils launching at his eyes.

"Don't touch me!" Shen Qingqiu had roared, but Liu Qingge wasn't paying him any mind. He was always bitching about something or another on their missions together. The weevils were a bigger problem. They had a neat little pile of almost fifteen corpses that had turned into a breeding ground for them, here in the middle of this beautiful forest.

If left for another decade, they might breed their way into a queen colony. There was a whole storyline in chapter 500 of PIDW about a Queen Weevil burrowing into the heart of Sha Hualing and controlling her from within. In fact, he might be ending that storyline before it began by being here now with Shen Qingqiu! The Qing Jing peak lord was definitely just accepting random nothing missions that wouldn't otherwise be done at all. Shen Yuan spared a brief moment to wonder when his mission to investigate Shen Qingqiu had been reversed on him into Shen Qingqiu investigating him instead.

If he were a different character, dealing with the weevils might be a problem. He'd be worried about things like 'propriety' or 'desecration of corpses'. But he's Liu Qingge, and he hits things with his sword until they die. It's something of a relief, to just swing a sword glare at the pile of corpses and hear the death screams of a thousand weevils.

Then there's a spike of familiar qi, and Liu QIngghe looks right, seeking an enemy, only for something to slice his cheek open.

There are no enemies. There's only Shen Qingqiu, standing stiff and straight, dark eyes wild with fury, his qi boiling around him and leaves shaking themselves free from the surrounding trees to flow around him like celestial ribbons.

A drop of blood slides down Liu Qingge's cheek, and he lifts a free hand, bewildered, to touch it. The remaining weevils rally, flinging themselves forward, and it distracts him, turning him back to facing what should be his real opponents. Shen Qingqiu can throw his little hissy fit in private while Liu Qingge handles the actual threat, as usual!

Another qi spike. He twists, expecting that the weevils distracting him will be shredded by leaves so Shen Qingqiu can bitch at him, as usual.

Instead, a burning sting appears across his shoulder and three points of impact burn into being on his stomach. He throws the weevils off with a brief thought, but they remain stubbornly unsliced by Shen Qingqiu's leaves.

Another line of pain, this time across his chest, and finally he turns to face the scum villain properly. He realizes his mouth is hanging open, and snaps it shut. The next leaf comes for his throat, and he slices it out of the air.

"Shen Qingqiu!" he barks. In answer, the scum villain screams his fury and it all falls apart around him.

"Binghe," Shen Yuan calls, holding the precious protagonist up off the ground by his forearms. Before him, Luo Binghe is shaking himself to pieces, his eyes wide. He'd reached towards Liu Qingge then pulled away, over and over, until his shaking took him over and his knees started giving out.

"He," Luo Binghe is stuttering. "He did this, he hurt you, he—"

"Easy. Breathe, Binghe. Everything's okay."

They sink together as he speaks, lowering the boy to his knees while crouching before him, refusing to allow his student to cower in his presence.

"He hurt you," Binghe repeats, his hands finally turning to clutch at Liu Qingge's forearms in turn. "He hurt you, he hurt you! Shen Qingqiu, he—I—I hate him. I hate him! I'll kill him for hurting you!"

Shen Yuan has no explanation for the way his chest squeezes. No thoughts behind the way he enfolds Luo Binghe in his arms. He holds him, tight and close, and the lingchi-like cuts Shen Qingqiu left criss-crossing his torso sting in answer.

"I'm okay," he murmurs into Luo Binghe's scalp, holding the boy as his angry, spitting rage splutters and falters. "Everything's okay, Binghe."

Binghe shakes his head. The shoulders under Shen Yuan's arms hitch. The young protagonist's breathing shivers in his lungs.

"He hurt you for no reason," Binghe sobs. "There was never a reason."

Fuck. Fuck, Shen Yuan isn't equipped to handle this. He's never been any good with people crying, and for it to be BINGHE! He remembers a moment like this from the abyss chapters, but he wasn't prepared for it to happen here, in his house. He's always wanted to support Binghe, sure, but what does a person even say , in the wake of something so painful?

"He's not going to hurt you again," he offers at last, and Luo Binghe falls apart.

It isn't hard, is the thing. He gets cut up, sure and some of the weevils make contact, but he's Liu Qingge . He's the war god, and Shen Qingqiu, he's learned from many sources, could never really beat him.

He takes out the weevils, and then he kicks Shen Qingqiu's ass. He doesn't even really have to work for it, aside from one moment where Shen Qingqiu lunges up to gouge out his eyes and catches him off guard, the bastard. He gets a scratch in against his cheek before Liu Qingge jabs the pommel of Chung Lan into the core of him and drives the breath out of the villain he's suddenly facing.

He beats the Qing Jing Peak Lord like it's muscle memory, and only wonders if he should have held back when Shen Qingqiu is on the ground, struggling to lever himself back up onto his elbows, panting, ragged, and furious.

"Liu Qingge, I will KILL YOU!" Shen Qingqiu screams.

"No you won't," Shen Yuan spits, and turns to walk away.

Since transmigrating into this world, Liu Qingge's moniker as 'the war god' has been like the dress shirts his mother used to buy him for family events—fine in theory, but not really fitting him. Now, he gets it. He storms up to Qiong Ding peak on the war path, and disciples literally leap out of his way.

Oh, his first instinct was to go to the source of the problem, sure. Shen Qingqiu likes hurting people so much, why shouldn't he get a taste of his own medicine? Luo Binghe had cried himself sick, then cried over that as well. He'd been shaking in Liu Qingge's arms, alternating between burning fury and abject grief.

"It's my fault," he'd choked, hands fisted in his hair while Shen Yuan rubbed his back helplessly. "If you hadn't saved me, he wouldn't have hurt you."

"No," Liu Qingge's voice had erupted from him without his need to force it—that bark of denial that always made people nod like he was acting right again. Binghe flinched, though, so Shen Yuan had softened. "No. Whatever is wrong with that man, it is not Binghe's fault."

And it wasn't—it was entirely Shen Qingqiu's fault—but if Shen Yuan went to confront him right now, there's no doubt he would draw his sword, and if Liu QIngge drew his sword, then Shen Qingqiu would be entirely justified in drawing against him, and they would fight again , like they had in the forest, with Liu Qingge cutting down leaves and weevils both, and Shen Qingqiu committing more and more fiercely to hurting him with every unsuccessful volly, and…

Well, and fuck that, is all! Shen Qingqiu's behavior has always been terrible, and there is one man in the whole sect who should be dealing with that and never has .

"Um," a disciple says as Liu Qingge kicks down the door to Qiong Ding's main hall. He din't really mean to kick the door down, but that tends to happen if he's not keeping the war god's body carefully in check. Someone had some bad habits, it seems!

Well, fine! For once it matches his mood! He gestures the young disciple away and storms down the hall to Yue Qingyuan's office.

"Shixiong!" he barks, throwing the door open. "We need to talk about—oh."

Yue Qingyuan is not alone. He is standing by his desk, as if he was halfway through rounding it. Before him, resplendent as a future wife should be, is Liu Mingyan. She's visibly agitated, whirling as Shen Yuan walks into the room as if she were in battle and not the office of her sect leader.

"Mingyan?" He says, and that should be right, he's done his research, dredged up memories of obscure chapters where Liu Mingyan told Binghe things like 'Since my brother died, you're the only one to call me Mingyan'.

It should be right, and does nothing at all to explain why she then snarls at him 

"Demon or spirit, whatever you are, reveal yourself!" she cries, lifting one hand sharply.

Yue Qingyuan lurches forward, even as Shen Yuan flinches back in surprise. Neither of their movements change the flash of light that follows.

Calling it light doesn't begin to do it justice. It is a force as much as it is a vision—waving through the room with an all-encompassing clarity so intense that it's blinding. For a moment, washed in that light, Shen Yuan has a dead certainty that when he opens his eyes again he will not be as he is. He will have a patchy beard, and thick glasses, and short hair, and they'll know, they'll know , and they'll kill him , and—

The light clears. Shen Yuan takes a breath. His chest swells with the inhalation, straining against his tightly wrapped robes. The weight of his sword at his side doesn't suddenly seem too heavy, and his sightline hasn't suddenly dropped to the height he should be. He looks down at his hands, and finds them rough and broad.

Safe, he thinks. Safe .

"Mingyan!" someone is yelling, and he drags his eyes up to Yue Qingyuan, surprised he would be so familiar.

Yue Qingyuan is not yelling. He's staring at Liu Qingge, eyes darting up and down, as if inspecting his skin for cracks. Shen Yuan's relief curdles in his chest under that stare. He knows , some part of him whispers. He's known.

But if Yue Qingyuan didn't call out—

"I'm here!" that same voice cries again, and Shen Yuan recognizes where he should know it from. Usually that voice is coming out of his own body.

Slow, inexorable, terrible, Shen Yuan looks. The light is dimming, withdrawing back into what looks to be a pendant clutched in Liu Mingyan's fist. It's hard to see it more clearly, because between them is a ghost.

It has to be a ghost. It can't be anything else, because despite the scum villain's best efforts, Liu Qingge is dead, and Shen Yuan is in his body.

And the man standing in front of Liu Mingyan, as if to guard her from him, is Liu Qingge.

It's the sort of revelation that should panic him, but even as he registers Liu Qingge's appearance he's seeing the outright almost-petulant frustration on the young Liu Mingyan's face as she turns one way, then the other. Her eyes never stop on the shade standing before her. 

Likewise, Yue Qingyuan lets out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing though the strained smile hasn't left his face. If he sees his replaced martial brother's ghost, he doesn't acknowledge it.

"As I said, Shizi," he says, low and calm. "That your brother has been busy does not mean—"

Liu Mingyan snaps her head towards him, the motion an aggressive twitch like a praying mantis's sudden attention. She straightens, her clenched fist dropping to her side. There's a bead of blood sliding down her knuckles from how tightly she's clenching the amulet she holds.

"That," she spits, pointing straight through Liu Qingge's spectral chest to Shen Yuan. "is not my brother. That Shen Qingqiu—he did something."

"Don't be ridiculous," Shen Yuan huffs, as in character as he can make himself while the original goods is glaring directly at him. "Shen-shixiong saved my life."

Yue Qingyuan softens a step further. In opposition, Liu Mingyan tenses.

"Heed my words, he is not who he seems!" she spits, snapping her head over to glare at Shen Yuan for a long, horrifying moment before turning and storming out of the room.

"I'm here," calls Liu Qingge again, stomping his foot petulantly glaring after his sister. "Mingyan, you're right, try it again!"

"Shidi, my apologies," Yue Qingyuan says, speaking right over the ghost's words. "Your sister seems to have become upset recently by some rumors around the sect. It seems you haven't been answering her letters?"

"Mm." Shen Yuan says, crossing his arms and forcing himself not to look at the other Liu Qingge who is determinedly trying to flip the table in the center of Yue Qingyuan's office. "This shidi has been inattentive."

"Well… It is not my place to weigh in on the matters of your family." 

A grunt of frustration. One scroll wobbles on the stubbornly upright table.

"That's not what I came to talk about," Shen Yuan says quickly, waving a hand and scowling.

"Ah, of course," Yue Qingyuan's awkward smile settles back into its usual neutral politeness, and he gestures to the table as if he wants Liu Qingge to sit there. The presence of a ghostly Liu Qingge stomping ineffectually on the pillow Shen Yuan is supposed to sit on doesn't register for him.

"Uh," says Shen Yuan, then clears his throat, shaking his head. If he remains standing, no one has to know why, right? "It's Shen Qingqiu."

"That SNAKE!" the other Liu Qingge yells, so loud and sudden that Shen Yuan's fingers twitch towards his sword before he gets himself under control again. "I know he had something to do with this!"

Yue Qingyuan goes still. The smile dims, and his eyes flick up without the rest of his body lifting. It makes him look hunted. Shen Yuan quickly averts his eyes.

"I have not yet received his report on your latest mission. Was there—he wasn't hurt, whas he?"

The mask falls apart in the middle of his words, the sect leader's smile breaking into open concern. It makes him look at once too young and too old to be the immortal sect leader he's supposed to be.

"He's fine , Zhangmen," Shen Yuan scolds, putting his hands on his hips and frowning at the man. "I'd have led with that "

Chastised, Yue Qingyuan tilts his head in acknowledgement and sits gracefully, reaching across the table to pour tea for Liu Qingge's side first, despite the fact that there is no way Shen Yuan is sitting there now, with Liu Qingge's ghost pacing agitatedly in the center of their conversation.

On his way here, Shen Yuan thought of a hundred ways to say this. ' He attacked me out of nowhere with no reason!' was the main thrust of most of them. But now, with LIu Qingge's voice still ringing in the room, he finds himself hesitant to use the same to accuse the man. Not that he's not mad , he's very mad! But He's certain, and has been certain for some time, that Shen Qingqiu really did try to save Liu Qingge. To hear the man he'd tried so desperately to save call him snake… It kind of takes the wind out of his sails.

So instead, with a steadying breath, he makes himself ask the harder question. The one he doesn't want to ask. The one that lives in the back of his mind, with Shen Qingqiu's wild eyes as he unleashed the leaves on him.

"Why is he like this?" he asks, letting his arms fall loose to his sides. "What happened to him?"

The ghost stops pacing. Yue Qingyuan freezes, pouring just a touch too long, until the tea spills over the edge of his cup. He lifts the pot away quickly, though too late to save his table from the pool of dark liquid. He sets the teapot down, safely off to the side, but he doesn't move to clean the spill just yet. He looks at it a long moment, then lifts his typical smile to Shen Yuan.

"I'm not sure what shidi means," he says, and if Shen Yuan weren't paying attention it would sound just as distant and political as his usual word choice.

Shen Yuan hesitates for a moment, then huffs out a breath. If Shen Qingqiu wanted privacy, he shouldn't have sliced his shidi up!

"Yes you do," Shen Yuan accuses, stepping forward in spite of the look Liu Qingge's ghost is giving him. "He's a bastard , he's petty, mean, and vicious. He abuses his disciples, he fights dirty, he hates all of us, and he saved my life. "

"He doesn't hate all of you, Shidi," Yue Qingyuan says, eyes on the table. "His feelings are his own, as is his peak, as are his disciples."

"He is going to get himself killed," Shen Yuan blurts, feeling Liu Qingge's face twist in a scowl that matches the disgusted look the other Qingge is giving him. "Even if you don't care about the children whose lives he's ruining, or the strain his behavior puts on Cang Qiong, don't you care what happens to him?"

"Was that a threat?" Yue Qingyuan snaps, his eyes finally lifting, this time with a fire contained in them.

"Qingyuan?" the ghost of Liu Qingge says, uncertainly, taking a step back from the sect leader.

Ah, shit, have I been calling him the wrong thing this whole time? Shen Yuan thinks distantly. More immediately, he scowls deeply, holding his ground.

"If I wanted to kill him I'd have done it when he used Plucked Leaves Flying Flowers against me for pulling his hair. He saved my life, and he's gone on missions with me and done well, and he still acts like that . I want to know why!"

"He doesn't like being touched." Yue Qingyuan objects, frowning, as if that was the takeaway from their conversation.

"I was helping him!" Shen Yuan throws his hands in the air. "He might be an asshole, but he's not supposed to be an idiot! I've been trying, Zhangmen-shixiong, I really have, and I thought… But there's something wrong with him."

Oh, shit, Yue Qingyuan looks more closed off than Shen Yuan has ever seen him. Change tactics, change tactics! Big Brother mode is too activated!

"He's the closest thing I have to a friend," Shen Yuan says, and hates the words the moment they leave his mouth. Not because they're manipulative, but because they might be true. Aside from Luo Binghe, of course, but... But for some reason 'friend' doesn't seem to really cover what Luo Binghe is to him.

The real Liu Qingge's face pulls into an expression of startled disgust, even as Yue Qingyuan's frosty glare melts into a puddle on his face.

"I'm sorry, shidi," he says, sounding genuinely heartbroken, like a maiden gazing off over the empty sea, awaiting her sailor's return. "I can't tell you what happened to him. I wasn't there."

"Were you supposed to be?"

Yue Qingyuan flinches, then recovers his empty, political smile. "I can't help with this matter, Shidi. Unless you're here to make a formal complaint—"

"No," Shen Yuan says, and turns to leave. He got more than he expected.

It's not until he's closed the door behind him that he realizes he's being followed.

"Imposter," spits that familiar voice behind him. "Getting close to that snake, scaring my sister, bothering the sect leader, stealing that boy…What are you up to?"

With all the self-preservation in his body Shen Yuan keeps his head up and his shoulders thrown back as he tosses Cheng Luan forward to board it and fly back to Bai Zhan.

"Stupid sword!" the ghost barks in frustration, apparently still able to keep pace with him despite his flying. "Even you can't tell the difference? At least Mingyan can!"

Binghe is outside when he comes in for a landing. He's hunched over, hugging himself, but he looks up when Liu Qingge draws close enough. Something inside Shen Yuan loosens and softens at the sight of him. He should have stayed with Binghe after his traumatic afternoon. He just couldn't stand it, that's all. Couldn't stand Binghe's sorrow, when so much of what happened to him should have been prevented. It should never have happened.

"Are you okay?" Binghe asks him the moment Liu Qingge lands.

I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be asking you that, Shen Yuan thinks wryly, even as he places a gentle hand on Binghe's head.

"I'm fine," he assures. "Everything's okay, Binghe."

"I made dinner, but it's not very good. I kept…" He fidgets, looking down at his hands. His lips twist in distaste at himself. "I can make it again."

"Everything Binghe makes is good." Shen Yuan pats his head a couple of times to emphasize the words, and Binghe's shoulders drop. "You've had a hard day. Come eat with me."

"Again with your ridiculous coddling!?" barks the ghost, and Shen Yuan jumps a little. He'd forgotten, for a moment.

"Shizun?"

"It's nothing." he shifts his hand to Binghe's shoulder, ushering him inside as the ghost storms around them, pacing and agitated as apparently he has been for… Well, months at this point.

"You flinched," the ghost says, and Shen Yuan tries to put 'no I didn't' energy into his smooth walk to the low table in the leisure house.

Binghe cleaned up while he was away. His shredded robes are gone, the fallen scroll neatly replaced, and the room freshly scrubbed and dusted. It's practically gleaming.

"Can you hear me?" Liu Qingge is demanding, following close at their heels. "Give me back my body. Give me back my sister!"

Dinner is simple. There's a slight burned taste to the duck, and the moment Binghe tastes it his eyes well up in failure. There's a hitch of his shoulders, and then Shen Yuan is there, hugging him close, not letting a single tear fall without it hitting his robes instead of falling unheeded to the floor.

"You're okay," he says, as Binghe's hands splay over his back, as if the little protagonist were trying to protect him in return. "You're okay."

"Why are you doing this!?" Liu Qingge demands, kicking at the table as if to shake Binghe's hard work onto the floor.

Shen Yuan holds Binghe with one arm, and keeps the table from rattling even a little with the other.

After dinner, Binghe says: "Are you still hurt?" and Shen Yuan can't deny him. He lets Binghe inspect the mostly-healed cuts, only faint red lines remaining where Shen Qingqiu cut him apart. He lets the boy dab medicinal cream over the little welts the weevils left. He ignores the ghost barking "Hey. Hey! I know you can hear me!"

"I'll heal before the morning," he tells the young man so diligently looking after him, rather than ignoring the ghost.

"Better to be safe," Binghe insists, glancing up at him before going back to very seriously tending to the mostly-healed injuries across his torso.

Shen Yuan is still mad. He's still frustrated. He's still, frankly, bewildered. By what exactly changed and went wrong. But as Binghe looks after him, even with a vengeful ghost yelling to get his attention, he thinks of the heavy impact of his fist and the blunt of his sword against Shen Qingqiu's body.

There was almost certainly no one to even notice he was wounded. It's his own fault that's the case, but Shen Yuan can't stop thinking about it anyhow.

Chapter Text

"I know you're planning something, demon! Face me!" Liu Qingge yells, slamming his incorporeal fist into the wall hard enough to shake free a few sticks of unlit incense on a nearby shelf and send them rolling.

"I have to fix that draft," Shen Yuan says aloud, not even looking that way.

"Yes, Shizun," Luo Binghe says lightly, not looking up from his work at the desk Shen Yuan added to the main room for him.

After all, if he was going to make the boy his head disciple, Luo Binghe should have all the trappings and capabilities of his rank, not simply make do with the traditional Bai Zhan method of 'fight or sleep there is no in between.' One day, Binghe would need to manage an uncountable harem and rule over the combined realms! Growing up without doing any paperwork wouldn't do him any favors.

If the peak has been running better than ever before with someone suddenly actually doing all the paperwork, no one else needs to know that.

The ghost of Liu Qingge has some nerve still being so grumpy when Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe are clearly doing such a good job managing his peak!

Since that awful night where Binghe broke down, things have calmed and settled, so long as one ignores the vengeful spirit of the original Liu Qingge, the looming threat of his exceptionally capable younger sister, the sudden rift between Shen Yuan and his only sort-of friend, and the fact that apparently the sect leader has been aware that something is 'wrong' with Liu Qingge for the entire time he's had possession of the body.

Things with Luo Binghe have certainly settled, at least!

Since the night he realized he'd done nothing wrong and been hurt regardless, his demeanor had changed, entirely for the better. Though he is still sweet and delightful to his new 'shizun', he walks with his shoulders back and his chin lifted. His improvement in cultivation, already staggering, skyrockets still further.

"My old cultivation manual was wrong." he says bluntly to Liu Qingge one day.

"Mm." Shen Yuan acknowledges. "I believe you."

"He did it on purpose." Luo Binghe adds, his jaw clenched.

"Maybe," sighs his long-suffering Shizun, patting Binghe's fluffy head.

He has not spoken to Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu has not spoken to him. There have been no more missions. There have , however, been exciting new rumors about a streak of three days where Shen Qingqiu was suspected to have been in the brothel. According to some rumors, the sect leader went down to the city, but only stood in place and gazed at the building before turning and leaving again.

None of that is Liu Qingge's problem, so he hasn't been thinking about it at all .

"I wasn't there," Yue Qingyuan had said, with a note in his voice like despair.

"Shizun, you got another letter from Shang Qinghua," Luo Binghe notes as he goes through the papers. "I can't even understand half of it."

"Don't worry about him," Liu Qingge says with a careless gesture. "Binghe did the budget right. Nothing to worry about."

"Thank you, Shizun! This disciple is trying to learn!"

Trying to learn, he says, as if he hadn't immediately done it better than Shen Yuan had been able to the one time he tried before.

So things are good. Somewhere, the plot is churning away. That self-same Shang QInghua sending him annoying, incomprehensible letters is out there collaborating with demons who will attack the immortal alliance conference, but honestly… Shen Yuan has done the math, and it's not the worst thing that could happen.

Oh, the abyss is a no go, certainly—he's not going to let Luo Binghe go down there until he's thoroughly prepared! But he needs his demonic heritage unlocked somehow, and letting it play out as it does in the story would allow Shen Yuan to play the role of the heroic shizun to a T! Rather than casting Binghe away when he finds him amid the chaos of the conference, the two of them will escape together, and leave behind a sect that has already begun to suspect Shen Yuan and would never accept Binghe as he is. 

They can leave abusive teachers and almost-friends behind, and they can pretend those weren't the same person.

So really, there's a pretty good timeline coming together. Shen Yuan just has to make it another few years without absolutely blowing his cover. Maybe he can request seclusion again? A few months in a cave are sounding pretty good right now. Or would be, if not for the fact that Liu Qingge's ghost would definitely follow him there.

Still, better that than…

"Yue Qingyuan sent a missive too. He says to tell you he knows you're in the sect, and that your absence was noted at the last peak lord's meeting."

Shen Yuan resists the urge to rub a hand over his face, then changes his mind and does it anyway. There's only Binghe and a ghost to see.

"You don't want to go." Binghe notes. "There could be a reason not to if you need, Shizun. I have some missions here that we could be called away to on an emergency?"

"Duplicitous," accuses Liu Qingge in a hiss. "Faithless child, to even think of lying to the sect!"

"It's not that I mind," Shen Yuan says instead, lifting a hand. "I've chosen you as my head disciple, so in theory you would attend with me."

"I would?" Binghe asks, perking up with a surprising enthusiasm.

"Mm." Shen Yuan hesitates, not wanting to gutter the flame in Binghe's eyes. "I don't want you to be in the same room as that man."

Luo Binghe blinks, but he doesn't dim. He tilts his head, considering, then gives a slow smile.

"Ming Fan might be there too," he notes, straightening the lapel of his Bai Zhan uniform. It was already perfect, but Shen Yuan understands the pride in the motion. He allows a small smile to cross his own face.

"Mm. Binghe could ride his new sword there, I suppose."

Zhang Yang is, after all, a clear statement of Luo Binghe's worth. And his skill in sword riding speaks for itself as to the quality of his cultivation.

"No more than two flips," he adds sternly.

Liu Qingge, across the room, groans and tries to hit his head against the wall, despite the fact that Shen Yuan is being very responsible about limiting his student's showing off.

"Yes shizun!" Luo Binghe agrees brightly.

"And Binghe,"

"Yes, shizun?"

"He won't touch you," he swears. "Neither of them will."

There are things in this world Shen Yuan feels bad about. He doesn't like that Liu Qingge appears to be stuck following him around as a spirit. He hates that he's making Liu Mingyan's life more difficult. He's uncomfortable about basically everything that's happened with Shen Qingqiu.

None of that outweighs the smile that Luo Binghe gives him in reply. It is a simple, warm, easy smile. One that strips all the protagonist gravitas and the weight of his sorrow away and leaves Binghe light and refreshed. It's a smile he never would have given in the original novel. It's Shen Yuan's alone.

It's possible he would be willing to do much worse things to keep that smile in his life.

Shen Yuan hypes himself up internally all day. He is Liu Qingge . If Shen Qingqiu says a word, he will start a fight in the middle of the peak lord meeting. If Ming Fan tries to bully Binghe, Liu Qingge will throw him off out of the room! If Yue Qingyuan tries to intervene, he'll take Binghe and leave!

So it's sort of a letdown to walk into the meeting and be faced with Shen Qingqiu absolutely stone-faced ignoring him, and Ming Fan not even in attendance.

Luo Binghe flanks Liu Qingge and takes notes diligently, the picture perfect head disciple. Behind Qi Qingqi, LIu Mingyan is also absent. She sends occasional glares towards Liu Qingge, but she doesn't start shouting 'imposter!' or unveiling glowing artifacts, so it seems that Mingyan's "That's not my brother" theory hasn't spread too far yet.

At the head of the meeting, Yue Qingyuan keeps sneaking secret glances between Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu, and despite the fact that they are both ignoring each other as hard as possible, he only seems to grow more pleased the longer the meeting goes on. Qingyuan, bro, what are you reading into this silence?!

Not that it seems like silence from where Shen Yuan is sitting. He absolutely cannot focus on the content of the meeting, because Liu Qingge has been screaming at Shen Qingqiu the entire time, despite the fact that he is invisible and inaudible to everyone in the room except Shen Yuan.

"What did you do!?" he's yelling, as the cold, indifferent face of Shen Qingqiu stares straight through him. "Why put this puppet in my body and then do nothing with it? Why fight against your own minion? How dare you kill me and then act like it never happened? How dare you!?"

At first it's a little funny. It gets less funny, though. He's probably thinking about it too much, honestly. He's definitely reading into it. But some part of him, standing outside his body and to the left, is thinking about what this meeting would be like if Shen Yuan weren't in Liu Qingge's body.

Would Shen Qingqiu look the same, if he knew he hadn't saved the war god? Would he sit there crisp and composed and perfect, with no sign remaining of the injuries that had laid him low? Would he maintain the same stony silence in the face of accusations aloud?

Fuck , thinks Shen Yuan to himself as his borrowed body's heart beats heavily. Stress of any kind always kicks on Liu Qingge's fight or flight instincts, and his body hasn't had much practice with choosing the 'flight' part.

Well before the meeting ends, Shen Yuan knows they're going to fight today. He's itching for it, though he used to be as allergic to in-person confrontation as he was to shellfish.

Liu Qingge isn't allergic to either. He does however, appear to have been allergic to thinking. By their powers combined, Shen Yuan thinks wryly, they make One Functioning Cultivator!

The ghost currently trying to spill Shen Qingqiu's tea would not appreciate the comparison.

Shang Qinghua is saying something about budgets and airplanes or something. Everyone seems to be toning him out, and Shen Yuan feels no reason not to join them in doing so. He thinks about Shen Qingqiu's hesitant thumbs up, and the silent, effective missions they've run together. He thinks about Yue Qingyuan's guilty eyes, and desperate hope when Liu Qingge started spending time with their most problematic martial brother. He thinks about 'I wasn't there', and Shen Qingqiu guarding Ning Yingying.

Then he thinks about Luo Binghe, a boy so bright and beautiful that Shen Qingqiu apparently felt compelled to snuff him out like a candle and return to the comforting darkness. And sure, in a book it's easy to think things like 'of course he would do that, he's scum!' But Proud Immortal Demon Way isn't feeling so much like a book recently. It's as hard to fit the young man who cried into Shen Yuan's arms then bandaged his wounds into the box of Stallion Protagonist as he suddenly finds it to cram Shen Qingqiu into the iron maiden labeled for the scum villain.

The meeting is dismissed finally, and Shen Yuan stands and straightens his robes, mind made up.

"Binghe," he says, turning to his head disciple as the peak lords split off into smaller groups. "Head back to the peak without me for now. I have a little business to finish up."

"Shizun," Luo Binghe says, loudly enough that he clearly wants it to be overheard. "That business probably isn't worth your attention."

Shen Qingqiu twitches. It might just be because Yue Qingyuan is approaching him, though.

"You've all just accepted this?" Liu Qingge is demanding, looking around the table. "Do none of you care?! What happened to testing him? What happened to standing together as a family?!"

Shen Yuan tries not to hurt for the ghsot too openly. Cang Qiong standing together as a family… When had that ever actually been the case? It was definitely Great Airplane telling instead of showing from the very first line, and yet in this real version of the story, it seemed that they'd all been told the same thing, and had never had any cause to find out if it was true or not before.

"I'd like to think it is," Shen Yuan says, turning to meet Binghe's eyes straight on. "Asking Binghe to be patient once more while I find out."

Luo Binghe meets his gaze. His own eyes are bright and fierce. It's like gazing up into the star-filled sky—impossible darkness and impossible light at once. He's growing so well recently. Shen Yuan is impossibly fond of him. He waits until Binghe gives a firm nod, then splits into a soft smile and pats the top of his head.

"If he hurts you," Luo Binghe whispers under Liu Qingge's broad palm. "I'll really kill him, Shizun."

"He can't hurt me," Shen Yuan murmurs in reply, ruffling Binghe's hair in a tough little tousle that Bai Zhan's head disciple weathers cheerfully, not even bothering to duck away from the teasing touch.

"It's none of your business," Shen Qingqiu's voice snaps through the air, and Shen Yuan glances over in time to see him storming away from Yue Qingyuan's half-outstretched hand.

Well. That's the best invitation he's going to get to get this started. There was no way this conversation was going to start on a positive note. He sends Binghe one last smile and a brief wink, then turns to stalk out of the building after his shixiong. He pretends he can't see Wei Qingwei, Qi Qingqi, and Mu Qingfang quietly pooling money with Shang Qinghua while side-eyeing them.

Shen Qingqiu walks fast. It's something you get used to if you work with the man regularly. Liu QIngge doesn't see the speck of Xiu Ya in the sky, so it must simply be that Shen Qingqiu has stormed out of sight, which means he must have power-walked into Qiong Ding's pine forest beelining towards the rainbow bridge without bothering to take the gliding, winding pathways built to maximize the austere natural beauty of the peak.

Liu Qingge follows him, letting his inherited tracking skills guide him. There, a disturbance in the pine needles—there a small twig kicked aside beneath a bush where it could nto have fallen. There, a flash of green through the trees.

He doesn't run. He doesn't need to. Shen Qingqiu walks fast—Liu Qingge is fully capable of walking faster when needed. His footfalls are padded by the thick carpet of pine needles, the sounds of birdsong and the surrounding peak's activities muffled here among the trees.

When he steps out into a clearing, he is greeted by a thousand pine needles hovering before him in clear threat, ringing the furious lord of Qing Jing peak. Each has been sharpened into a needle, no doubt. They would hurt, piercing his flesh. Shen Yuan has a flash of sudden, exhausted disappointment.

"You can do better than that," he says, not bothering to lift his sword or fall into a defensive stance.

"I have nothing to say to you, brute," spits Shen Qingqiu. "Turn around and escort your new pet home."

"Luo Binghe is my head disciple, not my pet," Shen Yuan says, mentally cataloguing Shen Qingqiu's stance. Stiff, angry, clawed fingers, sword sheathed. There is something wrong with him. "I'm not here to talk about him."

"Do you love pain that much?" threatens Shen Qingqiu. "If you want to bleed so badly I am happy to oblige. Perhaps I'll teach you what sort of lessons you should be teaching that beast!"

This is how he does it, Shen Yuan thinks, running through his many notes on the man before him. He controls situations by forcing rage when and where he wants it. He directs the other person's ire and hatred and bile until they can't think at all.

So though he wants to scream, though he wants to draw his sword, though he wants to whip Shen Qingqiu and see how he likes it and what lessons he learns, instead he takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and drops his head, shaking it in exaggerated disappointment.

"Ah, you're so predictable," he sighs, and enjoys the visible way the army of pine needles dip in confusion. "Go on, then."

"What?"

"Pincushion me," he replies, shamelessly shrugging Liu Qingge's shoulders. "Get it out, feel superior for a second, if that's what you need to feel strong, I won't stop you. When you're done being a child, we can talk man to man."

"You—" spits Shen Qingqiu, slamming his clawed hand down. A thousand pine needles spike into the ground, needle sharp. "You insolent, disrespectful, idiotic—"

"You're the one who attacked your own ally." Shen Yuan spits, finally letting his frustration rise now that the threat of the pine needles has been momentarily discarded. "Did it make you feel better to inflict a little pain? Have you been bereft without your favorite punching bag?"

"I knew that ridiculous memory-loss ruse was bullshit," spits Shen Qingqiu. "Even if the rest of those idiots bought it hook line and sinker, I knew ."

"And you let me take him," Liu Qingge agrees.

"As if any one of them would side with me rather than you. If I took one step towards that boy, the whole mountain would shriek at me poaching another master's disciple, nevermind that mine was poached beneath my very nose!"

"You'd dare call him your disciple?" Shen Yuan snarls. "With a fake cultivation manual and no lessons but suffering, you would dare?"

Shen Qingqiu smirks, a cruel, ugly expression, and Shen Yuan curses inside his heart. Fuck, he fell for it.

"Is that what Yue Qingyuan did to you?" he asks quickly, before Shen Qingqiu can stab another barb into his Luo Binghe-shaped soft spot.

Quick as lightning, a different expression stripes across Shen Qingqiu's face. His sneering cruelty crumples into something animal and wounded, then redoubles, defensive and fierce.

"That man has nothing to do with me."

Shen Yuan scoffs, then regrets it a little. Shen Qingqiu looks hunted now, instead of just angry. He's dangerous when he's cornered, and Luo Binghe really might try to kill him if Liu Qingge comes home cut up again. There will come a time when his success would be unquestionable, but even if that were the case, Shen Yuan…Really doesn't want that outcome if he can avoid it.

"You know," he says, as casually as he can, "you and I have done more missions together now that I ever did with him. If I'm allied with one of you, it's you."

(Hard to say if that would have been true from Liu Qingge's perspective, but from Shen Yuan's?)

Shen Qingqiu's lip curls in a disgusted little hitch like Liu Qingge has shoved something rotten in his face.

"If he wronged you," Shen Yuan adds, his voice softening despite himself. "I'll listen to your side."

Shen Qingqiu barks a laugh. It's an awful, ugly sound that seems to drag up from his guts—something sick escaping him. It hurts just to hear it, and Shen Yuan shakes off his empty hands to shoo away the feeling.

"Whatever you've convinced yourself of, forget it." spits the man determinedly turning himself into a villain. "Leave."

"I've thought you wronged me before," Liu Qingge presses. "I thought you wanted me dead. Everyone thinks that. Because you keep screaming it out loud for everyone to hear!"

"What?" a confused voice mutters from nearby.

…Shit. Shen Yuan forgot they had an audience. Oh well! At least Liu Qingge seems content to observe for now rather than yelling in Shen Qingqiu's face, that had been upsetting and distracting.

"But when you had the chance, I didn't wake up to find your hands around my throat, did I?" Shen Yuan whispers. He doesn't have to scream it. Shen Qingqiu has gone very still and very quiet, staring at him. He's breathing hard, his shoulders rising and falling visibly with the force of every exhale.

"You saved me," he insists, low and firm.

"Stop saying that." Shen Qingqiu hisses, his hands twitching up before he forces them down again. He looks like he wants to hold his own arms.

"You're an asshole, but you're loyal," Shen Yuan insists. "You're angry, and you hate me, but you wouldn't kill me. Not even if it was easy. Not even if I was qi deviating, dangerous to you, doing all the hard parts myself."

"And what would they have said?!" shrieks Shen Qingqiu at last, flinging his hands to the side. "Like you said, everyone knows I hate you! They'd have thought I did it—they'd have slit my throat!"

"Yue Qingyuan wouldn't have let that happen," Shen Yuan tells him, with all the certainty of someone who read what really went down.

"Because I could drag him to hell with me," Shen Qingqiu is working himself into a frenzy, eyes rimmed in dangerous red. "Because I have something on him he can't get away from. Because I'm the one stain on his perfect, wonderful life!"

"I used to think you'd kill me if I turned my back, and I was wrong. It did me good to reconsider what I thought I knew."

"I am going to slaughter you," hisses Shen Qingqiu. "I am going to slit your guts open and make that beast you adopted clean up the mess. I will make you rue the day you decided to survive. IF, that is, you survived at all. Don't think I haven't noticed that you don't speak to your sister—that you're suddenly the sort of person who thinks before striking, and follows me into the woods to talk about feelings. Whatever I did in the caves, there is no guarantee I saved Liu Qingge!"

It should be scary to hear those words. It should be terrifying. Instead, very aware of the original goods watching this interchange, Shen Yuan just feels so, so sad for this man. This ridiculous, lonely man, so abandoned by the world that despite being fully aware he might be befriending an evil spirit or corpse stealer, still gave him that awkward thumbs up.

"You tried," he says into the suddenly empty space between them, and he watches Shen Qingqiu close his eyes tight. Watches the ghost waver in sudden uncertainty at the corner of his vision, looking back and forth between them.

It's a stupid thing to say, and he quickly clears his throat, gesturing to himself. "And succeeded."

Shen Qingqiu doesn't open his eyes. Doesn't move at all. If he's breathing, Shen Yuan can't see it anymore.

"He left me to rot."

The words are a knife. The blade isn't pointed at Liu Qingge. It isn't even pointed at Yue Qingyuan.

"He did." Shen Qingqiu insists into the following silence.

"I can't imagine he wanted to," Shen Yuan answers him, when more silence follows that statement, piling unbearable quiet into the peace of the forest. "Shen Qingqiu, he would walk into a rain of poisoned arrows for you."

Shen Qingqiu jolts as if struck, then swiftly shakes his head. Shakes it again. Lifts his arms, and this time they wrap around himself, tight. Not comforting so much as insistent. Demanding. Hold it together.

"Leave," he rasps, raw.

"I'm going on a mission next week," Shen Yuan answers him, taking a step back. "Just to collect some stuff for Qingfang. An expert would help."

Shen Qingqiu's face hurts to look at. He looks like he wants to scream. He looks like Binghe looked that night, falling apart. There is no one to hold him through the explosion. No one in this clearing, at least. Up the mountain sits a man not yet dead who would hold him through far worse, if only. If only.

Shen Yuan turns away and starts heading back towards Bai Zhan. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the ghost hesitate, then follow.

When he gets back, Luo Binghe is anxiously scrubbing his wok out on the porch waiting for him, and Shen Yuan is filled with such fondness that Liu Qingge's body must translate it into affectionate violence.

"Hey," he calls to his disciple as he lands, hopping off his sword and trotting the last few steps to his beloved disciple, his body thrumming with unspent energy.. "Let's spar."

"Yes, Shizun!" Binghe cries, abandoning his work at once and beaming in delight, the stress and strain falling away from him with his youthful exuberance.

Behind them, suddenly silent after endless hours of yelling and fighting and struggling, the ghost follows.

Back in the pine forest, those who observed the fight walk out into the clearing of sharpened pine needles. Shang Qinghua gives a low whistle, picking a pair of needle sharp pines from the ground and twisting them in his fingers.

"Do you believe me?" Liu Mingyan asks, as she has asked every one of them before, from her Shizun right up to Yue Qingyuan.

"Oh yeah," Shang Qinghua says with a scoff. "OOC to the max. And if he doesn't want to play ball, well… Who needs him."

"...Begging your pardon?"

"Nothing! Nothing. I believe you, disciple Liu. That is not Liu Qingge. And I know something that might help."

Chapter Text

The Ghost:

Nothing is going as he expected. The demon, or spirit, or whatever is inside his body still has not lifted a hand against Cang Qiong, unless one were to count his absolutely atrocious attempt at a budget before he passed the task along to his stolen disciple.

He clung to Shen Qingqiu like a burr, but then argued with him viciously, even failing to recognize that Shen Qingqiu had been about to capture a pair of weevils in a destructive chain talisman that would have wiped out the whole nest and shoving him aside as if he were a hero of the moment.

Liu Qingge couldn't even blame the Qing Jing peak lord for shredding his replacement in frustration for the slight, though he could certainly blame him for everything else.

He does not remember exactly what happened in the Lingxi caves. He knows he was cultivating, and then he knows the cave was on fire. He knows Shen Qingqiu was there. He remembers Shen Qingqiu's hands on him. He knows the replacement has insisted over and over that Shen Qingqiu saved his life on that day.

He knows that isn't true, because saved men do not stand on the outside of their lives as ghosts.

The imposter makes no sense. He spars with Liu Qingge's disciples. He accomplishes missions for Cang Qiong, albeit with the unnecessary help of Shen Qingqiu. He coddles his stolen disciple. He does nothing. 

His martial siblings murmur approval at the improvement of his conduct when 'Liu Qingge' cannot hear them. The sect leader's eyes are knowing and sad, but he does nothing. The only person in the world who seems to care that Liu Qingge is dead is…

He's only seen Mingyan the one time. His replacement avoids her as if he is afraid. He should be. Mingyan is smart, capable, and stubborn. She will not give up until Liu QIngge has been restored.

If he can be restored. 

The man who has replaced him speaks gently to the disciple he's stolen. He frets over Bai Zhan's lesson plans. Once, Liu Qingge saw him ask Shen Qingqiu's girl disciple if she was safe with her shizun. Liu Qingge never stopped to wonder if a lecher might be a danger to the youths in his care. He never would have considered taking in a suffering boy and helping him grow into unmistakable power. He never would have asked the sect leader what happened between them to sour Shen Qingqiu against him.

It's all… It's a lot. The thoughts he's been having.

"Gosh," the imposter says to the empty room. "Sure would be a pity if something were to fall off the wall."

Liu Qingge stares down at his hands. He fought for Cang Qiong with all he had. Was that not enough? What good was a War God in a time of peace? He could have…

"Or a plate to break?" offers the imposter. "An ink spill would be a true shame."

Liu Qingge lifts his eyes, and finds the fool staring right at him, a worried look on his face.

"You can see me." he says, and this time it doesn't escape him as a scream.

The man winces, glancing towards the door, holding still for a long moment, listening. Checking if his disciple has actually left to go rest rather than sneaking back to make one final midnight snack for his new 'shizun.'

"I am so sorry," the imposter whispers, his expression awkward and guilty. "I truly am, Liu Qingge. I didn't mean for this to happen."

Liu Qingge pushes away from the wall and strides over to the table. He sits across from the imposter, arms crossed, and watches the man wearing his body fidget under his glare.

"Explain," he demands, and the man—the youth —before him does, in starts and stops.

Liu Qingge doesn't know what to think. Not about any of it.

He wishes Shen Qingqiu had just shoved an evil spirit in his body. It would have been so much easier to hate.

Once Little Nine:

If nothing else, Liu Qingge is right about one thing. Shen Qingqiu had a chance to kill him, and he didn't take it. Never has he regretted that more than he does now.

He paces in the bamboo house. The deep bruising from their last fight has faded, but the echo of it lingers in his bones, along with the hundreds— thousands— of injuries that came before them. Each one is a hard-earned lesson. Each one is a mark he will never permit again while it is in his power. Just as real, just as awful, are the wounds at the core of him. The man who left him behind—the martial brother who beat and humiliated him. Hadn't he promised himself to never take the same strike twice without fighting to the death to prevent it?

He'd walk into a rain of poison arrows for you.

It's a stupid thing to say. What a ridiculous assertion from a ridiculous brute! As if they were speaking of—as if there had been any mention of—

A rain of poison arrows , he'd said, and his face was so solemn. So certain.

Shen Qingqiu does not eat, and he does not feel hunger. Despite this fact, his stomach cramps as if he'd just swallowed glass. He freezes in the middle of the room, clutching at the core of himself—so unstead, so pathetic, so…

"Shizun?" sings a sweet voice, the door sliding open before she's even finished her insufficient greeting.

"Yingying," Shen Qingqiu sighs, straightening swiftly into a proper posture to look at the girl.

She's changed, since the beast was taken from their peak. In every way it has been for the better. Shen Qingqiu should have realized what an effect their relationship was having on her training and kicked him to the curb or outright slaughtered him years ago. Since the demon invasion she has become the disciple he always knew she could be, driven and talented.

She has also been extremely vocal about—

"Were you talking to that Liu Qingge again?" she spits, her sweet smile falling into a scowl. "Shizun, I told you, he doesn't deserve your time!"

"Refer to your martial uncle with the respect he deserves," Shen Qingqiu scolds mildly, averting his eyes so he won't risk her seeing his amusement.

"That brute!" she hisses, and there it is. He snaps his fan open to hide the smile that threatens to break across his cold, empty face.

She never would have dared before. She'd never felt anger before the demon invasion, to the best of his knowledge. Cosseted and adored, she had grown up sweet to a fault. But when she'd snuck away to visit with her little beast on Bai Zhan peak, she had returned to him up in arms.

"Do you know what that—that—that LIU QINGGE said?" She'd snapped, her fists clenched at her sides and her little hair ribbons quivering with her rage. "He asked if you'd touched me! YOU! My—My Shizun! How dare he!? And when I told Binghe, Binghe just asked the same thing! He wouldn't even come home with me! He said he likes it on Bai Zhan! WHO WOULD LIKE IT ON BAI ZHAN!?"

"Why did he ask?" Shen Qingqiu questioned her, something strange happening inside his chest that he did not have a name for.

"He said he would protect me," Ning Yingying reported with repulsion in every word. "Shizun, you're right, he's possessed or something!"

But despite her anger, and his own disgust at the thought, Shen Qingqiu grudgingly respected that Liu QIngge had taken the opportunity to check in with Ning Yingying. Considering what he'd done to that beast—

No. No, he didn't think about that. The boy had deserved all he'd gotten and far, far worse.

He had settled on the middle ground of not taking the question personally but thinking no more of Liu Qingge for having wanted to protect his little disciple. Yingying had taken it personally for both of them. Every Bai Zhan disciple she saw was her enemy at a glance, and heaven help Liu Qingge if she ever laid eyes on him again.

And if he had also made Ning Yingying his head disciple so that he wouldn't have to worry about Ming Fan's hero worship of the Bai Zhan war god getting in the way of his investigations, no one had to know.

At first his investigations had been solely business. The man had gone through an unspeakable qi deviation, brushed against death, and awakened changed. No simple tests had revealed him as an imposter, but his behavior and bearing had unmistakably changed. Mu Qingfang was advocating in quiet for a series of medical tests or perhaps imprisonment. Wei Qingwei was certain that drawing Hong Jing would lead to a different result than simply waving it around him.

Shen Qingqiu had diverted them in increasingly elaborate ways, until the thought had faded from their minds with familiarity.

The new Liu Qingge grew on a person like lichen. Shen QIngqiu would know. He had never had to suffer the indignity of a fool growing on him before, and had paid attention to ever step of it. He should have killed it before it hurt to. Should have nipped his little experiments in the bud, when he realized he'd stopped protecting Liu Qingge from the others for the sake of his own experiments, and had started to worry that the new addition to his life would be taken from him.

When Shen Qingqiu had returned from their last mission, she had noticed the blood under his fingernails and had nearly exploded at the thought of Liu Qingge having harmed him.

Shen Qingqiu had spent the rest of that day shut away in his bamboo house, breathing deep through the unexpected, sick warmth that having a pampered little girl try to protect him had brought. That sick rat that had survived the streets only to dress itself in lord's clothing had shivered inside him as if he were still cowering under Haitang's bed on one of Qiu Jianluo's worse days.

He had hated the relief almost as much as he hated the weakness that led to it, but he could not hate Yingying.

"What did he accuse you of this time?" Ning Yingying demands, scowling fiercely and swiftly setting down the paperwork she's brought to him. "I told you I should have come to the peak lord meeting with you!"

"Could you have held your temper while your beast stood at another master's heel?" Shen Qingqiu asks, cold and amused.

"A-Luo was there?" she asks, blinking in surprise, and for a moment there's that awful, vapid look on her face—the stars in her eyes like he hung the moon, like—but then it's gone, and her expression falls into a vicious scowl.

She sniffs, lifting her nose in the air and tilting her head away. "I'm not concerned with him any longer, as he is not a disciple of Qing Jing peak."

It's blatantly her best attempt to impersonate Shen Qingqiu's coldness. He is so fond of this ridiculous child. He should have given her a challenge to rise to from the start. She was brave, at her heart. She is brave, and she is loyal.

"That will be all, Head Disciple Ning," he tells her, but she taps his fan gently against her head so she knows he isn't angry.

He wants to delay her. He wants her righteous anger on his behalf to soothe the storm in him. Since the night she raged on his behalf, he has not caught himself longing for the scent of Haitang's perfume.

It is shameful, that he feels safe knowing a child would hide him behind her sleeves and keep him safe if she could. It is shameful, that ridiculous words have pressed him forward when he knows only danger lies before him.

He promised him self he would never hurt the same way again, and yet he scales the dark mountain to Qiong Ding, tasting metal on his tongue, feeling glass in his stomach, certain he is walking into pain.

But if he is right, if all his thoughts are confirmed, if he was left to rot like the piece of shit he is, then he'll rub it into Liu Qingge's face, and Liu Qingge…

Liu Qingge will be angry at Yue Qingyuan on his behalf. Liu Qingge will listen to his side of the story. Liu Qingge, or whoever now wears his skin, will ask Shen Qingqiu what happened, the same way he asked Ning Yingying if she was safe on his peak. Because he is a fool. Such a fool that he might truly choose Shen Qingqiu over Yue Qingyuan.

The Imposter:

"But Shizun, I could win the whole conference! " Binghe is insisting once again. "I swear I could! I could make you proud, and show you that I'm not just some ungrateful, weepy child—"

"I don't think you are?" Shen Yuan interrupts.

"I don't understand why you wouldn't want me to bring glory to the peak! To YOU!" hands spread, Luo Binghe makes his eyes big and watery the way he does when he's definitely not manipulating Shen Yuan into doing whatever he wants.

"You already do that," Shen Yuan huffs in his best Liu Qingge voice, gruff and curt. His impression has gotten a lot better since he started being able to hear the original goods. "There's no need to perform like a circus animal for the entire cultivation world. Just keep doing as you have been."

There are no blaring warning noises at the sound of Luo Binghe simply skipping the Immortal Alliance Conference. There is no system here to be alarmed, no need to keep the story on the rails it had been crafted to run along. There is, however, the ghost, watching as always.

"He's going to sneak in." Liu Qingge warns, dead-toned and bland.

Shen Yuan taps twice on the desk in acknowledgement, swallowing a sigh. Seems like he'll have to have a conversation with Shang Qinghua after all these months of avoidance, to see if he can leverage some meta knowledge into nipping the invasion of the conference in the bud.

The Spy:

"Oh, yeah," Shang Qinghua says in a voice that is far too loud for normal conversation. "Disciple Liu! I forgot you had well established plans to be here today to discuss our Sect Business!"

He glances back to see if his extraordinarily loud hinting has been recognized and almost screams aloud in frustration as Mobei Jun's flat, icy stare meets his from where he's still standing in the middle of his room.

"Shishu," Liu Mingyan greets, bowing to him despite his strangeness. "Have you had success finding the item you mentioned?"

"Oh yes, yes yes, great success, just… Stand right there and don't do anything , alright? Haha!"

He closes the door swiftly, throwing his hands up in the air and casting about for where he'd left the stupid plot-device he'd picked up to fuck with his fellow transmigrator. There was no way that guy was from PIDW, but had he answered any of Shang Qinghua's coded letters? Responded to his hints in the peak lord meetings? Agreed to meet or talk with him ever? NO! So now he got to deal with a fully armed and operational Liu Mingyan, and much joy to him with that confrontation! HAH!

Mobei Jun still hasn't moved out of the door's sightline, and Shang Qinghua only barely values his life enough to not hit his idiot king across the head. Does he have any idea what it would look like if a demon was spotted in his leisure house!? Does he know what an enormous mess it would be to have to murder Liu Mingyan to keep his secret! Luo Binghe would probably awaken his demonic powers early and kill Shang Qinghua for the detriment to his future harem!

If the poor kid ever grew out of being frankly depressingly hot for teacher.

The Revelation Lilly has not wilted since he picked it. It will not, until its pollen is spread. He keeps it contained within the glass array he crafted for it, and carries it carefully to the door. He does not want to know what it would reveal about a certain currently-spying god-author.

He stops in front of the door, looking back pointedly at Mobei Jun.

Mobei Jun looks pointedly back, and notably does not move.

"I hate this fucking book," Shang Qinghua mutters, nudging the door open a crack with his foot.

Liu Mingyan is waiting directly in place. She stares into him with nearly the same intensity as Mobei Jun, standing silent and waiting before him. Shang Qinghua is surrounded by terrifying beauties! Ah, how could he ever truly hate his masterpiece?

"This," he whispers, "Is the Revelation Lily. Those who smell its potent pollen will reveal their secrets. It will show you who he is. If, that is, it isn't really your brother! Who knows with qi deviations."

Fuck, if he faked a qi deviation could he get out of work? Eh. Maybe. But Mu Qingfang would definitely make him take one of the absolutely horrendous pills, tinctures, or tonics that functioned as medicine in this world. Not worth it, yet.

Liu Mingyan's hands are reverent as she lifts the lilly from his hands. She gazes upon it, then lifts her intense, dark gaze to his face.

"Thank you for believing me, shishu," she says, with such genuine gratitude in her voice that Shang Qinghua feels a little shitty for using her in his own petty little revenge plot.

"Uh… Yeah. Go get 'em, kid." he says, and closes the door between them before she can notice the gust of cold air emanating from behind him.

Future Wives:

"You have it," Ning Yingying whispers, clearly unused to such clandestine work. They have chosen an isolated position on Qing Jing Peak specifically so they will not have to whisper. Still, Liu Mingyan understands the impulse.

It is as safe a place for this conversation as they have access to. With Shen Qingqiu and "Liu Qingge" clearly no longer on friendly terms after their recent fights it should be reasonably safe to proceed.

"Yes," Liu Mingyan says, opening her qianqun sleeve to show Yingying the lily. "He must breathe its pollen."

"Hm." Ning Yingying stares at the flower. "Somewhere indoors, then. We can't guarantee that the wind wouldn't hamper us outside."

"I hear he fought your shizun," Liu Mingyan notes, placing the flower away again.

"And?" Ning Yingying mutters, a petulant frown forming on her sweet face.

"I hear he won."

"It's no secret that the War God of Bai Zhan has more brute strength than Cang Qiong's master scholar," sniffs Ning Yingying with such derision that she suddenly sounds very much like her teacher.

Liu Mingyan hates him. She is certain that he had something to do with this, but Ning Yingying has the utmost faith in him, and Liu Mingyan needs every ally she can gather in her too-weak hands.

"If he has my brother's power, he could kill us before we ever shared the truth," she notes.

"Mn." Crossing her arms tightly over her chest, Ning Yingying grumbles at the thought. "I know Shizun could take him if he had a chance to actually plan for it. Just because Liu Qingge has more brute strength… How about the next peak lord meeting? It's only another couple weeks. When they all see you were right…"

"They'll help us," Liu Mingyan says. "They'll have no choice. Shizun will finally see…Yes. Yes, that's our best bet. You'll be there?"

"I'll tell Shizun I'm ready to behave," Ning Yingying sighs, as if it is a great concession of hers to be civil even for a moment to the liar who stole her brother's body and Ning Yingying's friend away.

"As I'll tell shizun," Liu Mingyan agrees, though it tastes bitter on her tongue to imagine lying for even a moment to Qi Qingqi about this. She'll put up with it, with the deception, with the indignity.

She'll put up with anything, to not be the only one mourning a kidnapping or murder that no one else will acknowledge occurred.

"Bring your sword," she says, and Ning Yingying, eyes bright, nods her agreement.

Little Nine Once More:

Well. That explains where Ning Yingying was running off to. Shen Qingqiu rubs his temples where he's leaning against an ancient tree, his qi signature masked and his presence muffled with a dozen talismans. Ridiculous, foolish, clever girls.

There is, of course, the possibility they're wrong. That Liu Qingge simply changed after his qi deviation. That his better instincts were pulled to the surface by a brush with death.

More likely, Shen Qingqiu failed, and someone else slipped into the body in a twist of fate.

It does not matter either way. The person wearing Liu Qingge's skin now stood beside him rather than against him. Shen Qingqiu once gave all his loyalty in life to one man, but perhaps he has a scrap or two left to share.

Especially now. Especially knowing it was not entirely wasted. Might not have been dropped to rot in the dirt after all, and instead had only been lost.

He still wants to strangle the damn fool. The ridiculous, awful, broken little…

Stupid, stupid Qi-ge.

It occurs to him that he could turn to him now. He could go to Qiong Ding, and tell Yue Qingyuan what he has heard. He could have that powerful, respected, good man at his side to face whatever came for the replacement war god who'd dragged them back together again, whatever his purposes were.

Then it occurs to him that Yue Qingyuan might not take his side.

His fragile heart shudders. A foolish sensation. A foolish hope to hold that it wouldn't come to pass. Decades of silence and bitter cold, and he expects Yue Qingyuan to stand beside him against their own martial family? No. No.

He couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand to know it.

No, he'll just be prepared. Counter spell charms, wind, if it's pollen they're so concerned with. Combat and defense talismans should it all go wrong.

Qi-ge has just come back to him. He will not risk losing him, not just yet. But neither will he risk losing the one piece of good luck to have ever come his way. Liu Qingge, for all his faults, for all his ridiculousness, for all that Shen Qingqiu has hated him… Well. He is something Shen Qingqiu will protect, for whatever that is worth.

One Man Twice:

"There's the Sun Moon Dew Mushroom," Shen Yuan notes, writing the note down on the page. "It's sort of intended as a backup body, and relies on some complex soul transfer arrays—plus you have to actually find and cultivate the mushroom—but it grows a new body for the wearer with abundant spiritual energy! Your soul seems totally intact, we could probably make that work. Or failing that, I guess we could try the old New Start Lily—Ugh, why are there so may lilies… Anyhow, that one's a reincarnation plot device—uh, plant, that is. So you'd be starting from zero, but you'd have a body! Maybe we could arrange it for Liu Mingyan to find you and raise you, make sure you're family again in your new life too… Oh! Or there's always the Angler of Men! Its lure takes on the shape of its victims most important person, but if you sever it from the angler's body at just the right moment it can be used as an empty shell…"

Liu Qingge drifts on the other side of the table, letting the wall of words wash over him. The boy—Shen Yuan—has been talking for half an hour. There doesn't seem to be much need for Liu Qingge to intervene with opinion or concern. Between them on the table is a list of bodies. Things no one should know, least of all this stranger who claimed to have come from a different world. But then, perhaps his world simply had better knowledge of such forbidden or simply bewildering practices.

"And in repayment for all this?" Liu Qingge finally asks. "What will you gain, from giving me a body again?"

"Uh," Shen Yuan stutters to a stop, finally lifting his gaze from his paper. "I wasn't, that is… I'm just…"

He drums his fingers on the table, not dissimilar to the little signals he uses to let Liu Qingge know he's been heard while they are in company. It's annoyingly charming. It makes Liu Qingge want to fight him. If he were more corporeal than he is, he would suggest it.

"If you let Binghe and I go when the time comes," Shen Yuan says quietly, "that's all I ask. I never wanted to take anything from you, so I'd be glad to give any of it back."

Shen Yuan is a fool. That much is clear to see. Liu Qingge is fairly certain that the boy really means that.

Chapter Text

"You will sit with me," Shen Qingqiu says at the doorway, his eyes averted so he is not actually looking at Shen Yuan or Luo Binghe.

Shen Yuan, who has just landed, blinks at him, then lowers his gaze to the frankly adorable little girl with her nose lifted and her eyes averted as well. It seems that Ning Yingying still hasn't forgiven him or Luo Binghe. Is that why Shen Qingqiu has declared a sitting together edict? Shen Yuan glances behind himself to make certain the Qing Jing peak lord wasn't secretly addressing Mu Qingfang, only for the man to scoff at him, grab his wrist guard, and drag him inside to a seat at the long table far closer to Yue Qingyuan than either of them usually sit.

"Qingqiu," Yue Qingyuan greets warmly, his smile lifting so brightly that it presses dimples into his cheeks that Shen Yuan has never seen there before. It stuns him briefly, but he recovers in time to offer a brief bow of his own when Yue Qingyuan's gaze reaches him instead.

"Qingge," he offers, soft. There's something layered in his voice. Some sort of understanding, or acceptance, or… Ugh, Shen Yuan has no idea. Good thing Liu Qingge is notably bad at picking up social cues.

"Hi," he replies with a shrug, since Yue Qingyuan didn't bother being formal. He's answered by his own bright smile, and has to avert his gaze, busying himself sitting and straightening his robes sharply.

Luo Binghe leans forward, placing a few snacks he prepared in advance before Liu QIngge—notably on the side away from Shen Qingqiu.

"Just in case Shizun wants something nice instead of all that," Binghe says, offhandedly gesturing to the painstakingly prepared morsels provided by Qiong Ding.

What's with this treatment, eh? Why is he being pampered today? Beside him, Shen Qingqiu makes a soft disgusted noise, and Shen Yuan fights the impulse to elbow him in return. He can't tell if it's his impulse or Liu Qingge's. The ghost is quiet today, not screaming in anyone's faces or trying to flip the table. Maybe even he recognizes the superiority of Luo Binghe's snacks and doesn't dare disturb them!

"Your cultivation," Shen Qingqiu says out of nowhere, and Shen Yuan turns to him. "It's unchanged?"

"What would have changed it?" he scoffs, plunking one of Luo Binghe's miniature rose cakes into his mouth and sighing aloud at the flavor of it. It's a pity he can't share them, just one taste of these would make Shen Qingqiu fall to his knees and ask for forgiveness.

"I'll hold you to that," Shen Qingqiu replies, cryptic as always.

"Does this mean we're going on that mission after all?" It's hard to avoid poking the bear when talking to Shen Qingqiu, so might as well go for it, Shen Yuan figures. "Have you decided I'm not your worst enemy in the entire world and you don't want me dead, despite all signs to the contrary?"

"Ask me again after this meeting," Shen Qingqiu mutters back, which isn't the most relaxing thing that anyone's ever said to him.

The final few peak lords drift in. Qi Qingqi arrives at the end of the line, and behind her is Liu Mingyan. Shen Yuan snaps his eyes away the moment he sees her. She hasn't attended a meeting since he first transmigrated. Perhaps this is good news, but he really doubts it.

He still has all of her letters stacked up on the side table. He hasn't read them, but Liu Qingge has now. He opened them for the ghost just the other day so he could see his sister's words, even if he couldn't see her in person.

Maybe it would be easier to retether his soul to her, at least until they can figure out the body problem. There should be some sort of plant for that, though most of them would also let her see the ghost which would be… awkward. Maybe—

A closed fan jabs him in the ribs, and Shen Yuan lifts his head abruptly in offense. Did Shen Qingqiu drag him over here just to keep him from phasing out during the meeting? Rude!

But Shen Qingqiu isn't looking at him all smug or pretending to pay attention as Yue QIngyuan welcomes everyone. He's looking across the room in Liu Mingyan's direction, eerily focused, his gaze not wavering but his alert posture seeming to take in every movement from around them.

He looks ready to fight.

Fuck , thinks Shen Yuan, the moment before the first strike falls.

It's Ning Yingying who moves first, and maybe that's why Shen Qingqiu doesn't react in time. He was clearly ready to fight anyone in the room but her. From the guilty look she casts him after throwing locking talismans to the doors and windows in the room, she must have planned it that way.

The room is full of cultivators, of course. The moment she throws, everyone is on their feet. It doesn't matter how prepared they are for Ning Yingying to be a threat now, however. Her part is done.

The second blow comes from Mingyan.

She pulls something from her sleeve, and Shen Yuan has just a moment to register the horror on Shang Qinghua's face before there's the sound of shattering glass, and a gust of wind.

And answering gust rises from beside him where Shen Qingqiu has recovered from his surprise. For a moment it works, pushing Liu Mingyan's attack back. Then the two forces of wind twist together in a textbook example of why talisman instructors recommend not doing what has just occurred here.

Unlike a positive plus a positive, wind plus wind does not equal a lack of wind. It equals more wind .

What would have been a directed line of attack disperses to the entire locked room.

Shen Yuan is a little busy catching up to immediately understand the implications of that. What the hell is happening? Ning Yingying has locked the doors. Liu Mingyan attacked, but not with a sword, with what looks like a flower . Shen Qingqiu, notorious asshole, has just tried to protect him again. He turns to look at him only to startle at the sight that awaits him.

Shen Qingqiu's already thin face has deteriorated to near-skeletal. His elegant clothing crumbles until only rags remain. His hair falls ragged into his face. His eyes are wide—horrified—as he looks back at Shen Yuan, his carefully crafted image rotting in real time.

Behind him, Yue Qingyuan is hunched over, gasping for air. There is blood on his back, his clothes sloughing off his body just as Shen Qingqiu's had.

On Shen Qingqiu's chest, on full display with his robes withering, is a brand.

It's awful. It's awful . To see him exposed like this, thrust into this—it's awful . Yet it doesn't explain the ringing sound of swords.

"I told you," Liu Mingyan is yelling, sounding very far away. "I told you!"

"Wait, don't point that at me, I'm not with him!" Shang Qinghua's voice is blubbering desperately.

"The Revelation Lily?" Mu Qingfang is questioning aloud.

"Imposter!" Qi Qingqi cries out, louder and fiercer than all the others. "Demon!"

Oh. Fuck . Shen Yuan looks down. His hands are smaller. Softer. His wrists are bare. His whole arms are. He's in the tank top he died in, and the fuzzy sleep pants, and bare feet. He's himself. But when he lifts his eyes, it's not only him the swords are pointed towards.

He turns his head, and sucks in a breath at the demonic huadian suddenly blazing bright on Luo Binghe's forehead. Luo Binghe looks back at them, their eyes locking on one another.

In his real body, Binghe is taller than him. Shen Yuan had never thought that would be possible.

"Stay behind me," Shen Yuan says quickly, reaching out to try to push Luo Binghe back further away from the room at large, and it's his voice he speaks in.

"You stay behind me!" snarls a far more familiar voice, shoving Shen Yuan back stumbling into Luo Binghe's warm chest. There's the ringing of a sword, and the skeletal form that Shen Qingqiu has been reduced to is suddenly between him and a room full of cultivators.

"Shizun?" Ning Yingying is whispering nearby.

The bloody form at the top of the room lurches to its feet and stumbles closer. Yue Qingyuan braces up against Shen Qingqiu's side, between Shen Yuan and the eyes of a dozen sudden enemies. He is blatantly unwell, seeming stapled together. Despite that, no one makes a move to advance on them. Not yet.

"All of you?" Liu Mingyan is screaming. "All of you knew? All of you are going to stand by and let him—let them all—"

"Is your cultivation unchanged?" hisses Shen Qingqiu, the dark gleam of his eye the only thing that really seems like him in his shattered body.

It's a good question. Shen Yuan reaches for the golden warmth at the center of him, and comes up with a faint sensation of hunger.

"I'm not a cultivator," Shen Yuan whispers in horror, even as Luo Binghe steps closer, pressing their sides together. Zheng Yang is in his hand, but he hasn't lifted it yet.

"I can take him," Luo Binghe says, firm and cold.

"Demon," hisses Shen Qingqiu. "I knew I smelled the rot on you, you—"

He breaks off as Wei Qingwei takes a step forward, lurching back into defensive position. Their swords don't touch, but it seems a near thing when Shen Qingqiu slashes at him.

"Is that really Shen Qingqiu?" someone is yelling.

"Sect leader?" someone else is calling. Mu Qingfang, maybe?

"Did they all get replaced?!" some fool in the huddle shouts.

Shang Qinghua must be the cowering blob of jelly in a t-shirt and shorts on the other side of the room. A dozen things suddenly make sense in Shen Yuan's mind. He resents all of them with a depth he cannot begin to express.

"You are going to go," Shen Qingqiu tells him without looking away from his martial siblings. "And you are not going to look back."

They've all started to edge forward. Liu Mingyan is standing behind them, tears on her cheeks but pride in her stance. She was right, and she has proven it. Shen Yuan can't hold it against her—not his favorite wife.

There's the sound of fresh steel as Ning Yingying draws, but she doesn't stand on one side or another. She looks between them, eyes specifically on Wei Qingwei who's still facing Shen Qingqiu most directly. 

"He must have done something to them," someone says, and Shen Qingqiu twitches his head in their direction.

It's hard to tell which 'he' the voice meant at that moment, but Shen Yuan knows what will happen if he runs.

They'll blame it all on Shen Qingqiu. They'll pin this on him like they would have pinned Liu Qingge's death on him. A demonic disciple, an imposter for a friend, a slave brand on his chest.

The sect leader staggers a little more upright, his hair falling in ruin about his face, hiding all of his expression but a wordless snarl. It's hard to tell if there is more of his face than that. If he is capable of speech like this he cannot seem to reach it.

Shen Yuan might be the only one in the room in a position to see how Shen Qingqiu's hand shakes when he reaches to steady Yue Qingyuan beside him.

"Get the disciples to the back wall!" Mu Qingfang is commanding, already trying to limit the casualties that are sure to follow.

"Wait," Shen Yuan calls, lifting his hands. "Wait, please."

"We need to go," Luo Binghe breathes at his side, eyes searching for an opening with the room locked down on every side. "I'll blast our way out, but you have to hold onto me, Shizun."

"Binghe, no," Shen Yuan objects, dragging Luo Binghe's hand down before he can lift it towards the ceiling. "I can't."

"How long has my brother been dead?" Liu Mingyan demands, her lips pulled back in a snarl. "Since the moment you entered the Lingxi caves, Shen Qingqiu? Or was it only just before you left?"

"Liu Qingge had a qi deviation." Shen Qingqiu insists.

The words are true, but even to Shen Yuan they sound like a lie in this moment, coming from the ruined form of Shen Qingqiu.

People are starting to speak over each other, the words rising in waves.

"Seize them both!"

"That marking on the boy's forehead…"

"What have they done to the sect leader!?"

"Kill the imposter!"

"No one is touching him," Shen Qingqiu screams, and in answer swords turn towards him again. 

Yue Qingyuan lurches forward in return, his hand falling to his own sheathed sword and a sound like a roar crashing out of his wrecked form. No one looks more surprised than Shen Qingqiu, who shrinks back into himself for a moment before pressing up closer to the ruin of the man who was clearly stated in the original work to die for him.

"Shizun didn't do anything wrong," Luo Binghe is calling, his attention on Ning Yingying.

"He is not your Shizun!" Ning Yingying is calling in return.

It's chaos. It's chaos, and it's only getting worse. The air is filling with power. Swords are being lifted from defensive postures to aggressive ones. Shen Qingqiu's hand pulls free from the ruins of his sleeve filled with talismans.

Someone is going to die here.

"She lost her first tooth in midsummer," a voice says, right by Shen Yuan's ear, soft but clear.

Shen Yuan turns, staring, and LIu Qingge meets his eyes evenly. He's tall and handsome. His face looking down on Shen Yuan feels too familiar somehow, like gazing on a brother you'd never met before. In the chaos, he is the eye of a storm—unmoved and unchanged.

"We buried it beneath a plum tree. I told her it would sprout and grow another Mingyan, and she cried the rest of the night."

His eyes are on Liu Mingyan, but after he speaks he turns to Shen Yuan. Meets his eyes with a slow, serious nod.

"Tell her," he says.

Liu Mingyan must also have breathed the flower's pollen. When SHen Yuan looks at her, crying and proud and scared all at once, she looks so, so young.

"He says you lost your tooth in midsummer," he calls, and watches Liu Mingyan suck in a breath. "You buried it with him and he made you scared it would sprout. Really?"

This he says, to all appearances, to the air beside himself, the story finally sinking in. He knows it looks ridiculous. He knows he looks ridiculous. Especially when Luo Binghe scoots closer, an arm wrapped around his waist.

"Don't ask useless things," scolds the war god. "I taught her to fly. She was brave that day, and I was frightened. I wouldn't let her fly as fast as she wanted. I was too afraid she'd fall. Don't just stare at me, tell her!"

Shen Yuan repeats it, then turns to the ghost with wide eyes.

"Thank you," he rasps. " Thank you , please, I can't—" he looks back to the room—to Mingyan. "I don't want anyone to get hurt. And neither does your brother."

Shen Qingqiu is glaring at him, but only in brief glances. His attention, his sword, his talismans are still pointed outward. Yue Qingyuan stands beside him, just as Luo Binghe stands beside Shen Yuan. If the situation deteriorates, they will fight. It's likely they'll win, even, despite the damage clearly done to them by Liu Mingyan's spell.

But it would cost them everything.

"How dare you speak for him," Liu Mingyan accuses, her voice choked. "You took him from me!"

"I just died," Shen Yuan offers, desperation bleeding through his voice. "We both just died."

Shen Qingqiu flinches. Shen Yuan flinches in turn, glancing to him in guilt.

"You tried," he reminds him. "Sometimes you can only try."

"I know." spits what's left of Shen Qingqiu, shifting closer to Yue Qingyuan's heaving, bloody body, still standing though it seems to be through some miracle.

For a moment, there's an awkward, endless silence. Luo Binghe squeezes him a little tighter, and Shen Yuan pats his disciple's arm gently.

"He's right here," He offers to Mingyan—to all the peak lords staring at the man who has replaced their martial sibling, nodding to the empty space behind Shen Qingqiu. "I only found out he was still here when you used the first artifact. Before that I had no idea, or I would have found a way to help him talk to you. I'd have answered your letters for him. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I just wanted to survive."

My Qingfang has been staring at him in concern, but as Yue Qingyuan gives another lurching little stagger the doctor turns his attention away, edging closer despite Shen Qingqiu's naked blade facing the whole group of them. Qi Qingqi is still staring at him, but she seems more disturbed than hostile. Wei Qingwei still has his guard up, but considering that Shen Qingqiu's blade is very much pointed at his throat, Shen Yuan can forgive him that.

"Your disciple is a demon," notes one of the other peak lords—one of the ones whose names never came up often enough for Shen Yuan to bother learning it.

"That's unrelated," Shen Yuan says with a shrug. "I'll even take responsibility for making sure he stays out of trouble! Just… Just let us go. No one needs to get hurt."

"No." Liu Qingge says, and Shen Yuan turns to him with a confused scrunch of his brow.

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean no. Your idiot disciple hasn't done anything worse than make you too many sweets. And the two of you would never survive out there. At least you wouldn't. Not for long."

"Am I supposed to repeat all of this? Could you be less rude if you want me to repeat you?!"

"You'll stay here," Liu QIngge insists. "You'll fix it. Then I'll teach you. THEN you can go."

Shen Yuan gapes at him, mouth open in a combination of horror and bewilderment. Liu QIngge, teach him. LIu QIngge, the one responsible for all the damage he's ever seen on Bai Zhan Peak. Liu Qingge! No no no no no!

"Disciple Ning, open the windows ," Mu Qingfang demands. "This has gone on more than long enough! Qingyuan, can you hear me?"

Even as he asks, the sect leader's knees buckle. Shen Qingqiu is faced with a choice he must find impossible, because he fails to either stop the fall or keep up his guard, dragged to the ground alongside his sect leader. It's the moment that a warrior would attack an enemy, and be done with it quickly, Shen Yuan realizes with horror.

No one attacks.

The relief is so palpable, so bone deep, that he sags as well. Luo BInghe has an easier time holding him up until he can gently lower him to his knees. There's the sound of things unlocking, and the brush of wind talismans starting to clear the air.

There's a ghost standing behind him, arms crossed, ponytail unmoving in the wind.

"Well?" Liu Qingge demands, refusing to meet his eyes. "Go on. Tell them."

And so, as his body slowly melts back into Liu Qingge's stolen form, Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan piece-by-peace become whole again, and his disciple slowly turns fully human once more, Shen Yuan tells the entire room that according to the war god of Bai Zhan he would not survive outside the sect.

By the time he's done, he's bright red, but Liu Mingyan…

Liu Mingyan is laughing, with tears on her face and a hand clasped over her veil.

So maybe being exposed was good for one thing, at least.

Chapter Text

"How is it?" Shen Yuan asks, seated next to Binghe on the steps of the isolated medical pavilion where Mu Qingfang had ushered half their gathered ranks in the wake of the flower. He himself had disappeared with Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu some time ago, but Luo Binghe had been asked—firmly—to remain, so what could Shen Yuan do but stay with him?

"It's fine, Shizun," extending his hand when Shen Yuan reaches for it, Luo Binghe offers him a warm, easy smile. The demon suppressing bracelet around his wrist glints dark and cold in the sunlight. "A little itchy at worst."

"He's not your shizun," Liu Mingyan notes, her arms crossed, still watching them closely even though from Shen Yuan's perspective everything seems to be totally fine now.

Maybe she's just trying to stay close to the only guy who can currently hear and see her brother.

"Did your Liu Qingge lift me out of the mud and turn me into a true cultivator? No? Then this is my Shizun," Luo Binghe declares, crisp, concise, and absolute.

"This brat…" mutters Liu Qingge, who's standing near Mingyan despite that she's already walked through him a couple times. Shen Yuan's been thinking about that problem for the better part of a day, and he's already got some great ideas about how to make Liu Qingge visible to other people—at least his sister.

AND, he's got a great new lead on some additional plot devices in the presence of another transmigrator.

"It's a miracle he didn't lead you into a fatal qi deviation, pretending to teach while coasting off my brother's talent," Liu Mingyan sniffs.

"Your spiritual core is unaffected?" Shen Yuan questions, tugging on the bracelet to draw Binghe's attention back to him, as if the future lovers weren't having their first spat in front of him.

"Yes, Shizun," Luo Binghe says, turning his head to smile at him warmly. "Nothing has changed."

"Some things may need to, however," notes a new voice, and they all turn, then rise together, hands cupped, to bow to the sect leader.

Yue Qingyuan is still looking a little worse for wear after whatever the flower pollen did to him. His face, however, appears to be a face again, and his simple, gentle smile has returned in full force—perhaps even stronger than ever, likely due to the fact that Shen Qingqiu is currently striding beside him, only a half-pace away.

"Idiot," Shen Qingqiu spits, snapping his fan closed and pointing it at Shen Yuan directly. "Next time the strategist tells you to run, you run."

"Apologies, shixiong," Shen Yuan says, rolling his eyes now that he doesn't have to pretend to be stoic. "Next time I'll ditch you to handle all the consequences and dig your own grave, as you suggest."

"You—!" Shen QIngqiu spits, bristling.

"The hope is certainly that there will not be a next time," Yue Qingyuan pacifies, holding one hand out as if to touch Shen Qingqiu's clawed fingers, but not making contact. "As such, I would request that we all reconvene at Qiong Ding Peak, with a rather new itinerary. I think there may be much to discuss."

"If you try to lock the doors again I will throw you off this mountain," Shen Qingqiu hisses at an intensely cowed Ning Yingying who is very much hiding behind the sect leader.

It's a shocking reversal of the usual state of affairs. Since when has Shen Qingqiu accepted the sect leader so close? Shen Yuan smiles, bracing his hands on his hips and glancing between the two of them until Shen Qingqiu notices and flares pink, snapping his fan back open and storming up the peak.

"Shizun," sighs Luo Binghe, wrapping his arms around Liu Qingge's middle and hugging him close for a moment. " Please pick better friends."

"Ah, sorry Binghe," he sighs, leaning back against his favorite disciple, who had so eagerly leapt to his defense. "That one picked me."

Shen Qingqiu is a terror in the conversation. He's snappish. He's angry. He's deflecting so hard that Shen Yuan feels a little dizzy just watching him.

Right up until Yue Qingyuan casually suggests they all swear to secrecy about all that they saw in the room that day. It's only when Shen Qingqiu's fingers twitch upwards to where the slave brand had burned itself across his chest that Shen Yuan even figures out what had crawled up his butt and died when everything else was wrapping up neatly.

"Blood oath sounds fine, but if we're really going to grow me a new body I might have to sign it a second time," he notes.

" You're fine," Shen Qingqiu sniffs. "It's the rest of these fools I don't trust to hold their tongues without reinforcement."

It's the nicest thing he's ever said to him.

"The point stands that having a demonic disciple, even half demonic, is not only unheard of, but beyond the pale." the Ku Xing peak lord is saying. "It's heretical!"

"I don't know what to tell you," Shen Yuan says with an apologetic shrug and a completely earnest expression. "Liu Qingge says Binghe stays. And that he should even keep doing Head Disciple things, preferably."

""Does he now?" Mu Qingfang asks, his brows lifted but a look on his face like he's somehow enjoying this. "Disciple Mingyan, does that sound like your brother?"

"He also says he has more stories, if Mingyan really wants them shared," Shen Yuan notes, inspecting Liu Qingge's nail beds.

"There is no further need," Liu Mingyan proclaims, sitting in lotus pose with her eyes closed.

"Stop lying to them!" Liu Qingge demands.

Shen Yuan taps three times on the tabletop, their agreed upon signal for 'no.' Liu Qingge throws his hands in the air and starts trying to shove Shen Yuan's teacup onto the floor.

Neither of them notice that Liu Mingyan is smiling faintly, her lashes dark and wet. She used to tap three times for no too, when they were having a secret conversation over an official dinner.

Overall the punishment, if it can be called that, could be a lot worse. No more teaching disciples, at least not without running the lesson plan by Yue QIngyuan first. Honestly, after hearing the words 'took his arm off by accident' come out of his mouth when he described his actions in the demonic invasion, he had to admit even he agreed with that one.

Assisting Mu Qingfang in researching a solution to the Liu Qingge's Soul problem using his 'limited vision of the future' is no hardship. He would have done that anyway, and already has quite a few notes to share. It might have been easier if Shang Qinghua had not vanished from the mountain, leaving behind only an unseasonable chill in his leisure house, but Shen Yuan is fairly sure he knows where to start looking if he actually needs backup.

Perhaps he can find a way to get a letter to the Northern Demon Realm, just to begin by answering one of the dimwit's pinyin-coded messages.

He is barred from missions, unless accompanied by a member of a senior peak.

The entire room had looked at Yue Qingyuan with flat, unimpressed expressions at that proclamation, but the sect leader had the gall to face them all down with an easy, charming smile.

"Ridiculous," Shen Qingqiu had sniffed, snapping his fan open to hide his face from Yue Qingyuan.

Unfortunately, he had still be sitting right next to Shen Yuan, which meant he very much saw how flustered he was by the blatant favoritism, now that he suddenly seemed to recognize it as such.

And then, just before the meeting had ended, Yue Qingyuan had lifted a hand, smiled warmly directly at Shen Yuan, and said: "For as sorrowful and painful as this situation has been to some among us, I cannot help but feel we have been deeply lucky in your arrival over all others. As we cannot call you Liu Qingge, for obvious reasons, would you give us your name, young master?"

And then Shen Yuan had to sit there in front of all those cultivators, right beside the scum villain who had just taken his side against his own sect, and admit to everyone that his name was—

"Shen Yuan," Luo Binghe sighs again, gazing at him where he's lounging on the daybed.

"Hi, Binghe," Shen Yuan replies, still staring at the ceiling of the leisure house. With nothing to do, Liu Qingge's body is quickly becoming restless. He's going to need to fight someone soon, or he's going to take the house apart board by board.

"It's a wonderful name," Luo Binghe opines, turning back to his paperwork and making another mark. "Very handsome. Very fitting, for your true form."

"I'm going outside," Liu Qingge announces, and walks straight through the wall.

"Qingge's been leaving a lot recently," Shen Yuan notes, sitting up in a fluid motion.

Huh. That didn't feel too bad. He lays back down, then sits up again. Down, then up. Luo Binghe seamlessly wanders over to sit on his feet, holding him down so he can properly work out.

"Well, Mingyan hangs around. Maybe he goes to spy on her like she's spying on you."

"Maybe," he concedes, lifting his fists and lightly punching the open palms Luo Binghe offers him. "I don't suppose Binghe would like to spar later? I would understand if you'd prefer to spend the evening with someone your own age. After all, as you said, Mingyan is nearby."

"I always want to spar with Shizun, naturally. Shizun, may I ask a few questions, now that everything is back to normal?"

"Of course," he pauses mid situp, watching the serious expression on his student's face. "Though you know I'm not really an immortal master to answer them."

"Only you can answer," Binghe insists. "Why do you keep asking if I'd like to see Mingyan?"

"Don't you like her? She's very pretty. She and Yingying both are available young women your age… What young man wouldn't want to—"

"That's enough, thank you," Luo Binghe sighs. Then he considers for a moment before asking his next question: "Shizun, if I were to like someone, what should I do?"

"It's Binghe," Shen Yuan notes, flapping a hand. "Anything would be fine, so long as they didn't object."

"Last question," Luo Binghe leans in a little, eyes dark. "How old is Shen Yuan really?"

"Oh, uh," Shen Yuan stutters, blinking. "Like, 23?"

"Ah," Luo Binghe sighs, nodding to himself a few times, then resolutely straightens up. "I can work with that."

When he leans in, his teeth clash with Liu Qingge's lips, and Shen Yuan is so surprised he performs a perfect grappling throw, tossing Binghe across the room without a thought.

"That wasn't an objection!" he yells immediately, then covers his face with both hands as Binghe lets out a startled, pleased laugh in response.

By the time they've settled down and cleaned up, Shen Yuan has his head on straight again. Or, at least, as straight as it can go with luo Binghe right in front of him, leaning in like he would like to try kissing once more, even if it ends in another ruined cabinet.

"Can you wait?" Shen Yuan asks softly, feeling ridiculous. "Until my body is really mine?"

"Shizun," Luo Binghe murmurs, gathering both his hands. "I would wait forever."

In the years that follow, there are many notable partnerships in the wake of the disaster. No one knows if Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan got married or not—if they did, it was before the eyes of no living man or woman—but it does not change what they are.

Linked halves, two faces of a coin. Where once it was rare to see both in the same room for more than three sentences at a time, now it was rare to encounter Yue Qingyuan without also facing the barbs of Shen Qingqiu. Very few people sought out the reverse experience, but they would have found the same change in place.

Liu Mingyan and Ning Yingying courted more loudly and openly. To Mingyan, being believed, being trusted, being helped when she was at her lowest had opened her eyes. To Ning Yingying, joy was a thing to be shared. Shen Qingqiu gifted them their own residence for when they were staying on Qing Jing, far far away from the bamboo house.

Luo Binghe wore the demon suppressing bracelet until he could no longer stand it. The itch became unbearable, over the years. When the skin beneath was raw no matter what ointment Mu Qingfang supplied, there was no denying it was time.

Shen Yuan only had a few loose ends to wrap up first.

"Shizun," he calls in the doorway, tapping twice against the wood.

"A-Yuan," sighs Liu Qingge, meditating in a handstand against the far wall of his still-alarmingly-empty house. "What is it this time. If another of your monsters has gotten loose—"

"No no! No, no monsters. Just…"

"Spit it out," Liu Qingge commands, easily flipping upright from where he'd rested.

His body fits him so well—firm, attractive, but adaptable. He has been nothing but flexible every step of this process.

Shen Yuan's new body still feels like he needs to break it in sometimes. Shen Qingqiu had insisted on growing the mushroom body for him, but some of Liu Qingge's blood had been necessary, and now, to the whole mountain's chagrin, he has ended up looking something like their love child.

"I've stayed," he says. "I've fixed it. I've learned."

Liu Qingge gazes at him from dark grey eyes. Shen Yuan never got his expression right. It isn't empty. It's just quiet.

"Take anything you like when you go," his Shizun says, and tousles Shen Yuan's hair fiercely, despite his many protests.

"Ugh," says Luo Binghe, looking over Shen Yuan's shoulder.

"Don't ugh, he can hear you!" hisses Shen Yuan in reply, thwacking Binghe lightly on the shoulder. "I told him I was going, he's not here to make a scene."

"He always makes a scene," Luo Binghe notes. "I'll be saying bye to Yingying. Come find me when you're finished."

Shen Yuan tugs him down by a lock of hair to give him a soft kiss, then lets him go.

They won't be separated long, and the journey to the Northern Demon Realm to make good of their long-offered invitation will give them plenty of time together.

"Imagine how much more relaxing your life would have been here if you hadn't bothered stealing a beast for yourself," Shen Qingqiu sneers.

"I can still kick your ass," Shen Yuan insists, turning away from watching Binghe go to meet his friends' eyes.

"You're inevitably going to forget something," Shen Qingqiu tells him with a huff, tossing a pouch at his chest. "Buy yourself a nice replacement for what you're missing when you do."

"I'll be careful," Shen Yuan promises, as if that was what Shen Yuan had asked of him. "You take care too, alright? Make sure Qingyuan doesn't get into trouble. You know how defensive and snippy he gets. He needs someone even-keel to help keep him on the path."

"I should throw you off the mountain by hand," Shen QIngqiu snarls.

There's no heat in it. How could there be, between them? After everything.

"I'll miss you," Shen Yuan says, reaching out a hand in offer.

"Don't be ridiculous," the scum villain mutters, and brushes his own fingertips lightly against Shen Yuan's palm, as if that passed for a handshake or hug between them.

It did, in a way. A touch was a touch, and from Shen Qingqiu those were hard-won, even for Yue Qingyuan.

To Shen Yuan, it didn't mean half as much as looking back over his shoulder once, as he and Binghe flew away, and finding the scum villain giving him a thumbs up behind his back.