Work Text:
Shen Qingqiu is in his bamboo house, standing over his bed with shaky legs.
If Luo Binghe was with him in their room instead of at his meeting with Mobei Jun, he would see his shizun, pale faced and eyes wide, like a frail maiden about to faint. But Luo Binghe isn't here, and no one would see him and catch him if Shen Qingqiu does end up collapsing.
There, at the very center of the messy bed sheets sits a large cardboard box. Written on the side of the box in marker is his name, not Shen Qingqiu, but SHEN YUAN'S THINGS . This isn't just any box, as shown from the name and its open flabs; Shen Qingqiu looks inside, and he doesn't know whether to laugh or cry because in all the years he's been Shen Qingqiu he never expected to see these things again.
His stuff .
His Proud Immortal Demon Way stuff.
My babies, the otaku part of him cries, but the Shen Qingqiu part of him closes his gaping mouth and breathes deeply from his nose. His things from his home world are here, but how did they manage to come back?
Glancing around to make sure no one else is present, he shoves his hands into the box. He feels for the stacked manhua, novels, convention flyers and the stack of posters on his fingertips. His treasures that he so painstakingly collected over the years, all in this big box right with him. All of the Proud Immortal Demon Way franchise, and almost every item in the box is plastered with Luo Binghe's handsome face.
Shen Qingqiu picks up the book he sees first, the one with the cover of Luo Binghe half-naked and a demoness in his arms as he gazes lovingly at her. Shen Qingqiu still remembers this being the physical copy of the web-novel, volume 68. It's his least favorite of the series since it has the most ridiculous papapa scenes, yet holding the book is bringing back the nostalgic rush of memories; of going to conventions all across the mainland, going to pop up cafes, posing next to PIDW cosplayers...
When he flips through the pages, something slips out.
A piece of paper lands on the ground near his shoe. Frowning, he places the book back into the box, kneels down to pick up the piece of paper. There's a messy, blocky handwriting that he recognizes anywhere:
Shen Yuan.
Hope you're resting well up there. I know you said before that you didn't want your signed Luo Binghe poster burned for you, but seeing as we are moving mansions soon, we have nowhere else to store it. I am returning it to you, so please forgive me.
I have also burned all the other posters you said you were fine with burning. I also hope you receive them, and that they don't get lost in their destination in the afterlife.
I am sorry it took so long to deliver your things. It is hard to burn the possessions of my dear didi.
We miss you!!
-your ge
——
The dead, in Proud Immortal Demon Way and his home in the mainland, are paid the same respect by the living; time is taken in a year to visit the deceased at gravesites, tombs are swept, and incense is lit. What Shen Qingqiu learns is different about Proud Immortal Demon Way, both from experiencing the aftermath of battles and reading the novel, is that there is never mention of burning offerings to the dead.
As Shen Yuan, visiting his ancestors is an annual tradition in his family. When he was healthy, he and his siblings would go with his parents to visit the graves of his ancestors twice a year. He remembers on each visit up the burial mountains there’d be a vendor where his parents would buy bags of joss paper— fake money for ghosts— and they'd take it to the red brazier at the top of a hill. There, they'd burn all the papers and watch them erupt in flames.
"They're offerings for popo and gonggong," his mother told him. "So, they know we're always thinking of them."
Once, with eyes fixed on the flickering flame and smoke filling his nose, Shen Yuan decided if he's ever in his deathbed, he'd tell his wife and kids not to burn anything for him; it's a stupid hassle up the mountains.
Yet, years later when he finds himself on his deathbed with his family surrounding him instead, he doesn't say no when his brother asks if he'd like anything sent to him. Shen Yuan doesn't believe in an afterlife, but he does want to bring some comfort to himself knowing his family will continue to spoil their son when he's no longer around.
“What would you like sent to you?”
“My computer.”
“Paper things only, a 'Yuan, paper things.”
“Fine.” Shen Yuan rolls his eyes. “Then I’d like all my Proud Immortal Demon way stuff. Most of them are made of paper, anyway.”
The idea of burning his precious Luo Binghe posters would’ve been horrifying to the Shen Yuan years ago. Just imagining the smell of ash, Luo Binghe’s handsome face disappearing into vapor would have been absolutely heart wrenching to the otaku heart in him, but Shen Yuan supposes it's... nice to let go of things.
Brow raised, his brother asks, “Even your signed Luo Binghe poster?”
“No,” Shen Yuan’s tenses. “Don't burn that! I don’t want Airplane’s signature anywhere near me in the afterlife! He tampered with my beautiful collector’s poster…”
“A 'Yuan, you have it framed at home.”
“Shut up!”
Okay, maybe in truth, he can't let go of things. But it’s not because it has Airplane’s signature! He hates Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, and he hates how his signature is scribbled in the bottom right hand corner of Luo Binghe’s muscular, veiny thigh! He just doesn’t want a tainted item to be burned…
“Sure,” his brother sighs. “I’ll make sure to tell mama about it.”
Shen Yuan sags in relief. Yes, death may come to claim him, and he might not get out of the hospital to see his beautiful posters ever again. But at least he knows one of his items will be kept untouched and in its shiny, protective frame, eternally safe in his home.
——
“Gege! You stupid idiot!” Shen Qingqiu screams alone in his room, crumpling the letter in his hands. If his brother were here, he’d cut him down with Xiu Ya. His poor, beautiful precious…
His eyes flicker to the box on the bed. He gets up again to scavenge the box, and hidden at the bottom is, as he expected, the signed poster.
It’s out of its protective frame, but the paper’s surface still has that glossy sheen. Ignoring Airplane's scribbly signature, Luo Binghe’s art looks exactly how Shen Qingqiu remembers it, Luo Binghe standing over a mountain of bloody skulls with Xin Mo raised above his head, a handsome smirk on his face, flowing locks of black hair and his giant, massive muscles on full display and straining against the silk of his robes. Now that Shen Qingqiu is literally living in the story, he knows the art is a right portrayal of Luo Binghe's attractiveness and the fact he's married to this very protagonist makes him giddy.
Upon inspection, it looks like the poster is undamaged and glorious as before, so with great reluctance, Shen Qingqiu decides he can forgive his brother.
Shen Qingqiu brings the poster to his face and presses his lips to Binghe's smirking face.
The real Luo Binghe who would be more than happy to indulge in him if Shen Qingqiu wants a real kiss. But it's that comforting smell of paper and wrapped goods that reminds him of his days as Shen Yuan . Before he could allow himself to linger on the past too long, he pulls his face away and smooths out the poster, placing it back neatly on the top of the open box.
Now, he has to find a place to hide all this before his husband comes back home from the meeting. As much as he cares for his sticky husband, Luo Binghe can't know about the world outside the system. He cannot know that he's a fictional character created by Airplane.
It's NOT because Shen Qingqiu's afraid Luo Binghe's going to see his collection and realize his ethereal, cold teacher is actually a cringey NEET fanboy with an unhealthy obsession with his own husband.
And he's totally not imagining embarrassing scenarios in his head right now, of Binghe's crimson eyes and glowing sigil, cold hands grabbing him by the throat and lips pressed into his ear.
"Shizun, you never told me you harbored such hobbies..."
He's not imagining his signed poster burning up in flames, all his things from his life as Shen Yuan turning to ash.
"Shizun, you lied to me. Shizun is a CRINGE ASS."
Shen Qingqiu cannot allow it. He absolutely can't let Luo Binghe find his precious otaku collection!
——
It's not the last time Shen Qingqiu's things get sent back to him.
Every once a week, he receives a package waiting for him at their bed. Some things inside he doesn’t even remember owning— like the oil stained McDonald’s paper bag with Luo Binghe’s face plastered across it, or the box full of PIDW themed band aids (some which are used and covered in dried blood, which are still kept in the box.)
Despite the large quantities of stuff sent his way, Shen Qingqiu does not receive a note from his brother anymore. It seems like the first time his brother wrote him that note was the last time, which Shen Qingqiu still keeps neatly folded in one of his wooden drawers. Luo Binghe still hasn’t discovered his stash, which is thanks to Shen Qingqiu’s amazing hiding skill called “stuffing everything into places Luo Binghe would never clean”.
Things are fine, until one afternoon.
After a long outing with Luo Binghe, they returned to his bamboo house. With Luo Binghe busying himself in the kitchen, Shen Qingqiu arrives in his bedroom to find his bed, yet again, occupied.
Lying on the bed, is a large five foot tall bolster with an illustration of naked Luo Binghe on it. Cartoon Luo Binghe is smiling, robe-less except for the flimsy red cloth covering his beast of a pillar, and his chest is exposed-- pink nipples that Shen Qingqiu knows are the wrong color!
Why is his body pillow here?
"Shizun!"
Shen Qingqiu hears heavy footfalls approaching behind him. He has to hide it! He moves quickly, grabbing it and shoving it under the bed frame.
"Shizun," Luo Binghe says from the door. Shen Qingqiu looks up from the floor, stepping in front of the hidden pillow and giving his husband a steady look. Luo Binghe doesn't suspect anything, but he's frowning with both his arms balancing trays of dimsum. "Is everything all right?"
Shen Qingqiu tries for a smile, throws a glance at the corner of the pillow peeking out from the bed.
"Ah, yes, Binghe. Of course." He kicks the pillow further back under the bed. "Binghe should go set the table first. This master would like to... retrieve something."
Luo Binghe nods hesitantly, returning back into the pantry while balancing the plates. Okay, now that his husband is gone, Shen Qingqiu really needs to find a better hiding spot for his body pillow. Just imagining Luo Binghe breaking the bed during one of their papapa sessions and finding a five foot version of himself, indecent and promiscuous, printed on a bolster would be a nightmare.
Shen Qingqiu ends up storing the pillow under his floorboard, as with some of his PIDW merch. It's storage space Shen Qingqiu found in his early years of transmigrating, a little something he stumbled across when he noticed one of the floorboards being a lighter color than the rest. Under it is a large, hollow space holding boxes of calligraphy brushes. What the original Shen Qingqiu used these things for, Shen Yuan didn't know, but he'd replaced all the items with his PIDW things. The brushes were given to Shang Qinghua.
The body pillow is taking up so much space, maybe Shang Qinghua will know of more places to hide his stuff. He’s running out of space for storage!
Luo Binghe calls, "The table is set!"
Shen Qingqiu pushes himself off the ground, adjusting the floorboard with his toe. This looks fine. "Yes, I'm coming."
He sees Shang Qinghua again the next day. That afternoon Mobei Jun had arrived at their door with Shang Qingqiu hiding in his long robes. Said he wanted to discuss a territorial dispute over at the Demon Realm, something Luo Binghe wasn’t present to hear about since he spends most his days in the bamboo house as Shen Qingqiu’s male-wife now. While Mobei Jun and Luo Binghe went to the gardens to resume their conversation, Shang Qinghua’s left alone with Shen Qingqiu in the house.
Shang Qinghua idles around Shen Qingqiu’s desk, probably sensing something is wrong with his anti-fan, because he’s not meeting his gaze. Shen Qingqiu did stare the entire time when Mobei Jun was around, a look more intense than his typical glare.
Shen Qingqiu towers over Shang Qinghua, who’s looking up at him with wide eyes. Shen Qingqiu grips the trembling man by his shoulder, breath fanning his face.
“Question, bro. Are we dead?”
“Bro, what?” Shang Qinghua frowns, trying but failing to wriggle free out of Shen Qingqiu’s hold. “I don’t know what we’re talking about!”
“Is this place the afterlife?”
“What?”
“I’ve been receiving things from our home world almost every week!”
That gets Shang Qinghua to pause, lips pursed. His eyes are wide, alarmed, like a little rat caught in the kitchen stealing cheese. “What… what things?
Shen Qingqiu wants to choke him, but he doesn’t, because he’s Shen Qingqiu now and Shen Qingqiu does not dirty his hands. He sighs, releasing his grip on him. Shang Qinghua stumbles back against a wall. “My Luo Binghe merch. My stuff from home. My ge burned them for me, you know, like you do for ghosts. Is this the afterlife?”
“Huh,” Shang Qinghua only says, straightening his robe. “I don’t actually know.”
“Aren’t you the author of this world?”
“Yeah, but there are some things even I don’t know, man. Like, I was born here, I thought it was a transmigration thing, wouldn't have guessed it’s an afterlife.”
Shen Qingqiu frowns. Hearing the word afterlife out loud makes him feel… almost sad. He shakes his head, massaging his temples. If he’d told himself years ago when he was Shen Yuan that the afterlife is going to be exactly the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way, he would've laughed his ass off. Would’ve.
“Also... did you say you had merchandise of my work?”
“No!” Shen Qingqiu snaps. “I mean, yeah, but so what? Your writing is still shit… And it’s not like I bought them myself! My family did!” Shen Qingqiu scowls, and Shang Qinghua is giving him a strange look. “Anyway, I’ve been getting a lot of my stuff back. I need your help to hide them from Binghe.”
“Hide them? Why?”
Because he’ll think I’m so uncool is left unsaid. “Because... Binghe just can’t know about any of this!“
“Okay, I know. I get it, bro.” Shang Qinghua’s hands raise in defense, “I’ll help you, okay? Just calm yourself, man.”
With Shang Qinghua escaping a chokehold, Shen Qingqiu finally has Shang Qinghua agreeing to keep a quarter of his (least favorite) merch in the Demon Realm, somewhere he knows that’s top-secret, safe place. Of course, not before Shen Qingqiu gives him a warning: “Oh, and don’t get my stuff damaged or I'll seriously kill you.”
——
Sometimes, during those rare moments when Luo Binghe isn't around, Shen Qingqiu goes to the wooden floorboard to make sure his things are still there.
Of course, his stuff is safe! Where else would they go?
Even Luo Binghe is starting to notice something's going on. Every now and then, while Shen Qingqiu's standing in a daze thinking of how to organize his merch, Luo Binghe will slip up behind him and wrap his arms around his waist.
"Is there something on shizun's mind?" he pouts. "This one is sad to see his husband so worried nowadays."
Shen Qingqiu pushes his husband away, telling him everything's fine. Luo Binghe never questions any further, but the confusion is there on his face. It doesn’t help that Luo Binghe has been cooking more dessert in every meal, been a lot gentler during sex, perhaps thinking he’s the reason for Shen Qingqiu’s anxiety.
Shen Qingqiu feels awful, but he’s just worried about Luo Binghe finding his things...
Shen Qingqiu remembers in the last years of high school, he brought a girl to his house, and took her up to his bedroom. In retrospect, she probably thought they were going to "do the deed" that time, but Shen Yuan was too inexperienced when it came to romance that he had given her a long tour of his PIDW collection instead. Shen Yuan was proud of his collection, and he was so sure his classmate would appreciate Luo Binghe's tiddies as much as he did.
The words that left her mouth stayed in Shen Qingqiu's mind. The "This is... weird, Shen Yuan." and "I never knew you had this kind of hobby."
And then, "It's a little cringe, don't you think?"
——
Standing before Shen Qingqiu, death comes in the form of Luo Binghe. His sigil and eyes are glowing crimson, and he looms over him, pressing him against a wall.
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe coos. A smirk is etched across his face, a look that Shen Qingqiu was convinced he’d never see again after bringing him back from Xin Mo’s clutches. “Shizun, this one is… disappointed.”
Shen Qingqiu’s fingers reach down to pinch himself in the thigh. He has to wake up from this stupid nightmare! But fingers are on his chin, dragging Shen Qingqiu's vision up to his face. “Look at your husband when he is speaking to you.”
Shen Qingqiu trembles. Luo Binghe’s smile widens, eyes empty. ”Are you not you going to ask why I’m upset?”
“Um,” Shen Qingqiu gulps. “This master—“
Luo Binghe gestures his chin to the side, where, sure enough, is the Luo Binghe body pillow. Surrounding them, books, computers, doujins, are burning up in flames. His things...
He’s been found out. Shen Qingqiu had tried so hard to hide them. The body pillow is floating in the air, and the Luo Binghe illustration on the pillow looks warped; Pillow Binghe’s face is twisted, like an egg yolk mixed into the white, and what’s worse is that Pillow Binghe’s missing an eye, his limbs severed from his body with red tendons hanging out from the wounds. “Shizun has been like this all along?”
Luo Binghe presses Shen Qingqiu harder against the wall. He scrambles for the right words, “Binghe, listen to this master. It’s not what you think!”
“Not what I think?"
When Shen Qingqiu blinks again, he’s flat on his back, staring up at his husband. Luo Binghe’s smile is feral, his clean face suddenly stained with blood.
“This one should have never looked up to a hermit like you.” Luo Binghe growls. “I'll punish you for deceiving me.”
Pillow Binghe is still there, his face twisted as ever and watching them with his fake, beady eyes.
Hands are tearing at his arms and Shen Qingqiu screams.
Shen Qingqiu wakes up in a cold sweat. He's groggy from sleep; looks around, trying to grasp his position. He's in their bed and sitting up on drenched sheets.
None of it is real! He thought he was long over his fear of angering Luo Binghe but it looks like the whole PIDW merch is bringing his nightmares back!
He'd been painstakingly hiding things, lying to Binghe and bothering Shang Qinghua for more hiding spots-- all because he wanted to keep his little secret safe. His gege sent him his things back because he knew Shen Yuan had always taken immense pride in his collection. Shen Qingqiu should be happy, but the past few weeks have been stressful .
He's tired of worrying. There’s no sign that his brother will stop sending back his things either.
This is the last straw.
Shen Qingqiu has been married to Binghe for years now. He may know the original goods better than the Luo binghe that is his husband, but he still knows him, nonetheless. Luo Binghe loves him, and even if he stumbled upon his things, he would never--
Wait. Where is Binghe?
The spot next to Shen Qingqiu is empty. The sheets feel cold, which means Binghe has left the bed for a while. Which is strange because they went to bed together last night and Luo Binghe would never leave his side even if he so badly needed the toilet in the middle of the night.
That's when he hears a soft thump of wood against wood. Like someone's trying to quietly move furniture around.
Heart pounding in his chest, Shen Qingqiu squints through the dark. Over the bed, he makes out a large figure crouching on the floor, the same spot where he kept the body pillow and other things.
Shen Qingqiu swallows. Pulling the blanket aside, he carefully slides off the bed and holds onto the wall, if he doesn't collapse from exhaustion then from the fear hammering his chest. As his hand reaches for the unlit lamp light on the bedside table, he thinks this is fine! This is also a dream, one he'll laugh about in the morning.
"Shizun, you're awake."
"Binghe, what are you doing?"
As his eyes adjust to the dark, Shen Qingqiu could see Luo Binghe turning to face him, eyes big and wet but his expression unreadable when it's half covered by his locks. "Shizun, this one apologizes. I was awoken by a rat in the middle of the night so..."
Luo Binghe glances at the open space under the floorboard, where all his collectibles and the body pillow are stuffed in, then tears his gaze away.
"Binghe..."
Shen Qingqiu swallows when Luo Binghe rises from the ground, towering over his shizun like he did in the dream. Except, seeing him so close, Luo Binghe’s face is a blotchy red, his big, round eyes puffy and bloodshot like he'd been crying.
“Shizun…”
“Luo Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu can't take it anymore, his heart! He grabs him by the face, their noses close enough to touch. “Listen to this master… what Binghe just saw—“
Is cringe. Is nerdy, unlike the ethereal, refined teacher you know. But please, no matter what..
“Shizun loves me so much.”
Unable to hide the shock, the word fall from his mouth before he could stop it. “What?
Luo Binghe’s eyes are glittering, like a little puppy that's just been thrown a bone. “Shizun truly does love this one. He loves me so much he is willing to commission painters to paint a hundred different pieces of me." he sniffs, "This one was afraid Shizun didn't care about me anymore."
Shen Qingqiu inwardly sighs. "This master apologizes for my recent behavior." he says. "It's just... Binghe isn't bothered?"
Luo Binghe cocks his head to the side. "Bothered? Of course not!" Binghe clasps Shen Qingqiu cold hands in his, pressing their foreheads together. "This one is flattered!"
Flattered, huh. It never occurred to him that Binghe would've been happy with his obsessive hobby. So, does that mean he doesn't need to hide his collection now?
Then... then that he can put everything on display, in its full glory, admire and adore his things without any shame like before?
With the thought, a sudden idea pops into his head.
"Binghe, this master needs your assistance tomorrow."
"Yes?"
"The house will be decorated."
——
"Shizun, this husband is begging you."
"No." Shen Qingqiu says. "This master refuses to take them down."
It's been a few days since that night, already Shen Qingqiu has the whole bamboo house adorned in Luo Binghe paintings and tapestries. The wooden shelves are lined with PIDW bobble heads and the novels, which Binghe is still oblivious to since he is thankfully unable to read the contents inside. Shen Qingqiu will explain everything to Shang Qinghua when he comes to return more of his items later, but for now the biggest problem is Luo Binghe being embarrassed by seeing his own handsome face in every corner of the room.
It took him a while to get used to, with Shen Qingqiu having to convince his husband that yes, Binghe looks as beautiful as the art portrays him, yes, Binghe is well loved by this master and yes, Binghe's boobs just as big and masculine in real life despite his bouts of immaturity, like now.
Shen Qingqiu sits by the bedside, fan covering his frown as Luo Binghe kneels by his feet. "Shizun is mistaken. This one means... that cushion." Binghe "Please don't cuddle with it at night... only your husband."
Guiltily, Shen Qingqiu has been hugging his body pillow to sleep, his body seeming to forget he has the real deal right with him. He scoffs and whacks his head with his fan. "Binghe doesn't need to worry."
Binghe wails and hugs Shen Qingqiu's waist, burying his face in his lap with a muffle, "Please, only for tonight can Shizun not...?"
Shen Qingqiu knows what he means, his face heating up. Of course, even for him, it's uncomfortable to have your body pillow on the same sweat stained sheets, watching you and your partner getting freaky. Things like that belong in horror stories.
Shen Qingqiu ruffles Binghe's hair. "Fine."
Those sparkling, crimson eyes look up at him. "Shizun!"
"Just for tonight."
"But—"
"No buts, Binghe." Shen Qingqiu chuckles, "Binghe must know this master loves you the most."
The handsome faces of the protagonist hanging in the room are beaming back at him, but the brightest smile will always belong to his Luo Binghe.