Work Text:
Shen Qingqiu felt himself smile as the first winds of spring arrived on Qing Jing Peak. Air swirled, weaving through the forests, fluttering bamboo leaves in delicate waves. He strolled through the peak’s lecture halls, ducking in and out of classrooms, and nodding regally at news of his disciples’ progress. His heart felt full witnessing glimpses of the lives in his care. He spent many of his days in quiet awe of what he’d been able to build- long after he believed his time due. If only he could figure out where the fuck his husband went.
Luo Binghe had lost some stickiness over the years, but generally stayed within walking distance. Especially on days like these where his mornings were stolen by his court. insisting on making up for lost time. When their extended honeymoon ended several years ago, Shen Qingqiu arrived at the bamboo house alone. Luo Binghe was detained on an extended tour of the demon realm. After Binghe’s years of literal bodyguarding, the empire had gotten comfortable operating without oversight and needed to be brought to heel.
The first assassination attempt had been enough to boot Shen Qingqiu from the campaign. The demon responsible had escalated what would have otherwise been a simple skirmish over borderlines. Demonic culture was fractured by design. Most of Binghe’s outings consisted entirely of telling the clans in the area that yes there was a new emperor, yes he had new rules, no he was not here to establish a marriage alliance please stop asking. But, demons were scrappy and retaliation against new authority was common enough. The assassin took advantage of the fact that the imperial visitors were dressed for a dinner party first, battle second, and staged an ambush during an already escalating argument. The ensuing chaos enabled the attackers to land a lucky hit on the previously untouchable peak lord. Binghe panicked, and removed him from the field immediately. It resulted in the first real fight of their marriage. Binghe insisting that Shen Qingqiu stay behind, safe at the palace, Shen Qingqiu insisting it was bullshit. Yes he'd nearly died! But he'd done that three times already, he got better! Shen Qingqiu sunk his heels in, but Binghe had looked at him with pleading eyes, saying that he couldn't bear losing a husband mere months after acquiring one. Binghe asked him to please stay until the worst was over, if only to ease his husband's mind.
And what the fuck was Shen Qingqiu supposed to say to that?
Hearing the news of his voluntary grounding, Cang Qiong had called Shen Qingqiu home to clean house. The ploy by his martial siblings was ridiculous, his disciples had been self-sufficient for years at that point. It was a transparent excuse to see him again. Shen Qingqiu had rolled his eyes, touched by all the fuss nonetheless.
Shen Qingqiu sighed, turning to make his way back to the bamboo house, abandoning his lackluster search of the peak’s library. It contained only sect elders jumping at the chance to remind their lord of his many overdrafts (he forgot okay!), with not a protagonist in sight.
His peak had not fallen into disarray without his watchful eye, quite the opposite. During Binghe's foray into the abyss, Ming Fan and Ning Yingying had assumed his previous duties as Shen Qingqiu's de facto collaborators on peak matters. They'd taken on even more when Shen Qingqiu turned himself into fertilizer.
Shen Qingqiu felt a swell of pride hearing their reports whenever he stopped by during his honeymoon. They'd nurtured the peak in his absence, leaving it shining from their care. Their work was flawless, meticulous, and innovative. It was clear that they'd grown into fine cultivators and leaders in their own right. They’d earned every word of praise he'd lauded upon them. However, once Shen Qingqiu moved back for an extended stay, there was nothing for him to do!
These kids were too damn efficient!
Even years later, at most he was asked to sign off on major projects. Shen Qingqiu was certain they were humoring him though. When flipping through a pile of paperwork in his office early on, he'd stumbled upon a page already filled in a flawless rendition of his handwriting. Ming fan had turned scarlet when asked about it. Ning Yingying, on the other hand, chose to lie out of her ass. She claimed that it was a simple mix up of old documents despite the paper being literally dated for that morning.
"Besides, Shizun" she began, gathering said papers, eyes bright. "who could even come close to emulating such a peerless purveyor of the arts! Truly the perpetrator would have to be an esteemed master in their own right, the likes not seen for generations!" She'd then given him a giant shit eating grin.
As the duo left, she wielded the offending forgery with a flourish, declaring that she'd be sure to correct this grave error in record time. Ming fan in turn promised he'd tell Ning Yinying to tone it down.
Shen Qingqiu hadn't bothered notifying them when he'd found similar papers days later.
As he walked home, he began to wonder if it was an elaborate form of petty revenge.
Oh?? Now Shizun wants to work? After abandoning the peak! Abandoning the peak for five years?! Too bad!
In those days he’d felt more like the peak's mascot than its lord. In the grand scheme of his transmigration experience, he'd spent a fraction of his first decade teaching. He enjoyed it! He did. But between the abyss, dying, becoming a plant, dying, turning gay, dying.... he'd been busy okay! The extent of his teaching career in his first life had been miniscule. While he'd tutored his meimei after school when she came to visit him in the hospital- it had been an excuse to see each other rather than a try at proper pedagogy. The less said about his attempts to save the masses of Zhonglian from their own stupidity, the better. Shen Yuan didn't think he'd live past the age of twenty, let alone become a tenured professor at xianxia university.
Those empty days, with Binghe off conquering, had convinced Shen Qingqiu to rededicate himself to his role. There had been no new Qing Jing disciples since Binghe's admission. Despite Ming Fan and Ning Yingying being lords in everything but name, only Shen Qingqiu could approve entrance to the peak. It was a matter of sect safety, ensuring quality members and tight records. In pidw the recruits of each peak were a reflection of the sitting lords' legacy. Who they chose to nurture, and who they left behind, shaped the peak for generations to come. It had primarily been used to emphasize how the cruelty of Qing Jing was an extension of the scum villain's own corruption. Shen Qingqiu, all those years ago, had gazed out at his empty school yards and felt his stomach turn.
Shen Qingqiu cringed, thinking back.
Of course, Qing Jing hosted students when he’d been dead. Various sect members would crash classes, as remedial study or to develop existing skills. Calligraphy was highly prized universally, especially when making talismans. An Ding sent nearly every member at one point, the excessive paperwork of the peak demanding legible handwriting. That hadn’t stopped the base population of Qing Jing from slimming.
Those of Qing Jing were famous for their unending pursuit of knowledge in all its forms. They were illustrious scholars who refused to stay in one place. Whether it be new cultivation techniques, far off libraries, or an idle curiosity- Qing Jing cultivators had a reputation for following their academic pursuits wherever they may lay. Additionally, they were classically trained artists. Many left to become sought after court musicians or storytellers. Shen Qingqiu would bet good money that many Qing Jing alumni had made a fortune performing low brow rpf.
With a lack of cultivators to raise, Shen Qingqiu began recruiting. He started small, as not to overwhelm the instructors (or himself). New to his roles as prince-consort and husband, he needed time to regain his footing. A small part of him worried for Binghe’s fragile heart. The boy had been the baby of the peak for nearly a decade at that point! Such a stark change in dynamics was bound to rattle anyone!
When the demon realm had been settled at last, Binghe did his best to be supportive. He eagerly slid into his old role at his shizun’s side, becoming invaluable help when developing the new curriculum. He’d grade papers, tune guqins, and clean paint brushes with a smile. However, meeting the children face to face had been another story entirely. Shen Qingqiu never saw his husband during school hours, let alone witnessed him speak to a student directly. Luo Binghe seemed to do everything in his power to avoid even looking at them.
Shen Qingqiu somewhat understood the hesitation. He regularly entertained the worry that genres would shift without him noticing. One moment a male lead, the next a wizened mentor to the next-gen. Shen Qingqiu tried to remain vigilant. He kept an attentive eye out for any roaming bands of misfits choosing to study the power of friendship in lieu of cultivation. Having a protagonist for a husband had given him a halo by proxy, securing him a gentle epilogue. Nevertheless, he was always aware of the fact that their HEA could become a HFN in the sake of someone else’s tragic backstory. The system was mainly silent these days, but he wouldn't put it past it.
[Host called? (ง ื▿ ื)ว]
Fuck off.
[Understood ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و]
The tension had broken when Liu Qingge visited, having heard of Luo Binghe’s return. Liu Qingge had claimed that a demon lord wasn’t a proper role-model for young cultivators, let alone fit to teach them. The ensuing fight caused an unthinkable amount of property damage, but was well worth the cost. Luo Binghe’s declarations of loyalty to the peak, shouted throughout the melee, had been melodramatic and at times explicit. (Shen Qingqiu had no idea where his husband learned to swear like that!) Binghe’s words were spread rapidly by the disciples that heard it, and further aggrandized later by those who didn’t. Shen Qingqiu reprimanded Binghe at length for his thoughtlessness, but the damage was already done. The disciples of Qing Jing had seen Luo Binghe defeat a war god, and look fantastic doing it. They fell in love instantly.
In hindsight the appeal was obvious: dark clothes, moody poses, unspeakably handsome. Of course! Luo Binghe was every thirteen year old’s emo idol personified. Especially with this bunch of fucking nerds!
The kids rushed Binghe, eager to be the first to congratulate him. They begged to hear all about his other grand battles! The thrilling adventures he’d gone on with Shizun! Tell us everything! Luo Binghe, overwhelmed by the swarm, stumbled his way through the first story that came to mind. He quickly realized how inappropriate the wife plot was for young ears and swerved to censor himself. Playing up his unbelievable coolness, he implied that the real details were tightly held imperial secrets he wasn't at liberty to share despite being the emperor himself. The kids went wild, asking question after question about Binghe’s duties as a demon lord. The chuunibyou allure was too strong!
Binghe confessed later that night that he never knew lying to children could be so fulfilling.
"I understand now Shizun,” he said solemnly, his eyes sparkling with mischievous delight.
Understood what Binghe?!
Months later, after the children had strong-armed their shixiong into a day of idle picnicking down the mountain. Binghe confessed to Shen Qingqiu once more.
"I think they like me, Shizun." His voice was soft with awe, as if speaking too loud would frighten the good news away. "They really like me"
Shen Qingqiu heart warmed. He insisted on commiserating Binghe's accomplishment with him. The favor of tweens was hard won and delicately kept, more than worthy of celebration. After a few drinks of their finest wine, Binghe led him by the hand into the kitchen. Whispering gentle instructions into Shen Qingqiu’s ear, they waltzed around their kitchen. Laughing while making the first of many treats for their disciples.
The memory fled Shen Qingqiu’s mind when he heard a familiar voice in the distance. Turning away from the path to the bamboo house, he stepped onto a nestled away training ground. He’d located his husband at last.
Disciples were scattered haphazardly in a sloppy half circle. They were mudstained, hair unkempt, and faces flushed. Seemingly collapsed the moment they received permission. Several were still panting. Shen Qingqiu believed he spotted Qi Qingqi's nephew laying face down in the grass. The few remaining upright were leaning forward where they sat, eagerly following the over-embellished yarn Binghe was weaving.
Shen Qingqiu's husband also sat on the ground, still dressed in his demon court finest from that morning. Binghe lounged regally on a small patch of clovers, transforming it into a throne. His face, also pink from exertion, was dazzling and sunkissed. Binghe’s voice was rich and warm, granting his story an otherworldly grandeur. His protagonist halo worked overtime, holding all eyes that fell on him captive by his charm. Shen Qingqiu moved closer, compelled.
"I'd given him too many chances in my taunting, allowing him vital seconds to recover. This shixiong soon realized that he’d been foolish to test my luck against such a beast! I stood completely unprepared for the horror that awaited me.." Binghe paused, letting his crowd see his look of mock regret. Ah, a parable today. The children probably had become overzealous when handed baby's first practice swords, and tuned out Binghe's warnings. It would explain the mess…
"Shixiong won though!" chirped a bun to Shen Qingqiu's right, clutching her training sword to her chest. "Or he wouldn't be here to teach us!"
"Don't be presumptuous Jia-er," Shen Qingqiu reprimanded, more concerned with the rude interruption than the obvious conclusion. The children startled, not having noticed his presence. Binghe had naturally known he was there from the start, but greeted him as if seeing him for the first time.
Shen Qingqiu met his eyes and was gifted a boyish smile for his efforts. Shen Qingiu’s breath exited his lungs, he'd fought years for that smile, to see Binghe unburdened enough to let it show again. Regaining it was one of the key achievements of Shen Qingqiu’s life regardless of what points had to say. He swallowed and broke contact, refocusing.
"How could this master's disciples be certain that Binghe emerged unscathed?” Shen Qingqiu said to be a bitch. “For all we know he may have indeed perished that day.”
The children replied with offended stares. Qi Qingqiu's nephew pointed over his shoulder at the very much alive Luo Binghe before them. He didn't even lift his head from the ground to do it, refusing to humor the question with more energy than strictly necessary. Shen Qingqiu waved his fan leisurely, ignoring his husband's poorly contained laughter. Instead, he made eye contact with each member of his audience.
"This teacher is disappointed," he said, sounding the part. "His disciples will accept the Lord of all Demons as their martial brother, but neglect to consider that he may be a ghost king as well?" Tiny heads whipped back at Binghe, who sobered instantly.
"Are you?" the boy asked, finally lifting his head from the ground, before addressing Shen Qingqiu."Is he?"
"Who is to say…"
"Shizun is his husband, shouldn't he know?"
"One would think…" Shen Qingqiu then decided that this line of inquiry was below him. He sat down primly, flipping his hair. "It seems this teacher needs to listen as well." Shen Qingqiu motioned for Binghe to continue. His husband had the audacity to blush, looking demure under the attention.
You were the one who wanted to make shit up Binghe! Commit to the bit!!
Binghe soon gathered himself and continued his narration. As it would happen, Binghe had died briefly. The villain had cursed him, turning him into a ghost king for one harrowing night, before his shizun revived him. Shen Qingqiu then utilized his knowledge of floral panaceas to craft a cure, the likes of which had never been seen before or since. Alas, the power required to activate the concoction drained Shen Qingqiu's robust qi reserves- leading to his foggy memory of the event. Binghe finished his tale with the moral that it was always better to approach an issue educated and level headed, like their shizun, and avoid rushing in head first like their foolish shixiong. Clever boy.
Shen Qingqiu silently joined the grumbles of disappointment when Binghe stood, declaring both class and the story over. Once the field cleared, the excited chatting of the crowd fading, Binghe returned to his husband's side.
"This disciple will endeavor to remind Shizun of his exploits more often," he said, helping Shen Qingqiu to his feet. "I must be doing a poor job if his memory remains clouded."
Shen Qingqiu dusted off his robes. Looking back at Binghe, his heart stuttered. Binghe's cheeks must be hurting with the force of his grin, poor thing. Shen Qingqiu pinched one of the offending cheeks only to be countered with an even wider smile. Too op!!
"Oh hush, I was building intrigue. Stranger things have happened to us."
"Of course, Shizun."
Their eyes met and Shen Qingqiu removed his hand, coughing into it. He raised his fan, turning his head to look at a simply fascinating patch of grass.
"Is this master correct in believing that Binghe is available now?"
"Shizun, what did we learn about making assumptions?"
"..."
“...”
“Goodbye, Binghe” Shen Qingqiu promptly turned, heading towards the bamboo house.
"Wa- Shizun! This disciple is coming! Slow down!"
Shen Qingqiu weaved his way through the bamboo trees, laughing at his husband’s dismay. Glancing behind him, seeing his heart framed by the green of their home, he was certain he would never want to be anywhere else.