Work Text:
If Madam Meiyin had told Shen Qingqiu those few months ago—or five years ago, as the case might literally be—that he'd be considering a fruit basket to thank Sha Hualing for kidnapping him, he would have called her a liar and a fraud of a seer, no matter how much he respected her powers from the original source material.
But here he is, with his freshly ground ink, in his new office, working out which fruits could be given without Luo Binghe feeling like he was moving in on his territory.
Not that the demon emperor seemed inclined to be protective or jealous where Sha Hualing was involved. Perhaps Shen Yuan had negatively impacted their first meeting somehow? The Immortal Alliance Conference had certainly ended with more hard feelings than it had in the book, but surely they'd overcome that by now. It wasn't as if his coupling with the demoness was particularly tender!
Still, better safe than sorry, and there were so many phallic and aphrodisiac fruits to avoid! Perhaps he could just make sure to dice up anything particularly sexual…
"Tea, my Lord Cucumber?" asked a demoness in a shabby human disguise from the door, her head lowered deferentially.
Aiyah, had Binghe instructed all of his attendants to offer every five minutes!? This humble new advisor and/or battery pack was going to drown in tea!
"Ahem, no need, no need," the so-called Lord Cucumber replied, one hand lifting to stroke through the stuck-on whiskers that he'd finally managed to put in some semblance of order now that he'd gotten access to proper bronze mirrors rather than muddy puddles. "This lord is very well cared for at the moment, miss…?"
"Early Teeth," the girl introduced herself with a bow, grinning at him with a mouth full of fangs.
Ah, how cute. He wondered if she'd met Six Balls yet—they seemed to be roughly the same age, and he had managed to secure some simple positions at the palace for his little crew of demon helpers.
A warping pressure interrupted him before he could ask, burning, all-consuming, terrifying , but so familiar. Early Teeth yelped an inhuman sound, bent entirely in half in a bow, and shuffled backwards out of the doorway.
"Emperor Luo," Shen Yuan greeted, struggling not to turn around too fast. Keep it classy, Cucumber! Be cool! Be collected! Don't let the instinctual panic hit you again!
It would be a lot easier to maintain the calm faced advisor expression he was trying to maintain if Luo Binghe would just use the door!
"Advisor Peerless Cucumber," Luo Binghe rumbled from behind him, the weight of demonic qi pressing in like a physical thing, crushing down around him like a physical weight. It felt a little like being in a deep sea vessel, struggling against the pressure of a mile of water.
Shen Yuan turned to face him, of course. Binghe seemed to like appearing in the corners of the room. HIs demonic seal was wild again, swallowing up his eyes, creeping over his forehead. He made an intimidating figure, glowing red in the darkness, tendrils of qi leaking visibly off of him in whorls and eddies.
When he was wearing his human guise, his eyes were full of stars. Like this, he became the star, piercing, wild, unknowable.
"Already?" Shen Yuan asked before he could think better of it, rising to his feet. "Emperor Luo, this advisor is of course happy to help balance your energies again, but how have you ended up in such a state again?"
"Are you?" Luo Binghe's head tilted slowly, the glowing lines cracking across his sharp, handsome features. "Why would advisor…Cucumber…be so pleased to be used by this lord?"
"Who wouldn't be?" Shen Yuan scoffed, confusion clouding his brow. "Besides," he reached to the desk and picked up a letter written in Liu Mingyan's hand, then wiggled it at him. "Haven't you already given me what I asked for? And this office as well. Not to mention the rank of advisor. My lord, no one could disagree that you've been very indulgent of this humble one."
"Peerless Cucumber is too modest."
"My lord could call me"-- anything else!-- "whatever he pleases."
"Not quite," rasps Luo Binghe, sounding starving. Was he so deeply affected? How was Xin Mo so consistently getting the better of him like this? For fuck's sake, what had Shen Yuan died for if Luo Binghe was just going to keep getting eaten alive by that sword!?
"Come, come," Shen Yuan insists, hands extended. "Hurry and let's get your energy back in order."
Despite that Shen Yuan knew Luo Binghe could do the energy transfer just by grabbing him and taking what he needed, the emperor stumbled forward two steps, dropped to his knees, and pressed his forehead into his worthless advisor's palm like a child with a fever.
How pathetic… What a good thing there was no one but his foolish old advisor to see him so unwound. Shen Yuan settled his free hand at Luo Binghe's shoulder, not daring to touch the crown of his head, and gently let the mushroom body's pure, bright qi soak into his disciple's— no, don't think that, don't even start— his emperor's meridians, driving back Xin Mo's madness.
He really needed to send Sha Hualing that fruit basket. He never could have come up with such a satisfying Alternate Universe, where he could stay by Luo Binghe's side.
Or, that is, where he could still be part of the story, safe and sound, not exactly far away from the plot, but certainly on the right side of it.
Now if he could just figure out how to advise Luo Binghe to let Liu Qingge have Shen Qingqiu's old body instead of fighting nearly to the death once a week over it…
After all, if Luo Binghe's soul summoning attempts did work while Shen Yuan was happily in his new mushroom body… Well, it might summon the other inhabitant of that body, and then Shen Yuan would probably have to kill him again to make sure he didn't hurt Binghe any more. That would be hard to explain…
The new Shizun's hands were cold, just as his real hands always were when Luo Binghe lifted them from the bed to cycle qi through his empty body. But when he leaned his face into that cool flesh, they curled to meet him. When he shuddered there, another hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing.
When he'd been a boy, he'd fallen against his shizun a dozen different ways, stumbling over simple forms and tripping over stones. Shizun had always caught him so gently.
These were not the hands that had been his safety and home, but did that matter? Did it matter what skin his master wore, if it was still him? The skinner demon had been a demon in any flesh. His Shizun was his Shizun, no matter what body he wore.
Plentiful qi swept through his body, fighting back the light incursion of Xin Mo's influence, beating his demonic cultivation back into position, strengthening the fragile spiritual veins he'd once poured all his effort and love into, then had all but foregone for years after, when he'd been cast aside in spite of all that forced goodness.
If he was going to be a monster no matter what, then why bother pretending?
But…
On the edge of the abyss, Shizun had called him unforgivable—unacceptable. A heavenly demon, not capable of being something like 'good.'
Then in Jin Lan city, Shizun had shattered apart in his arms, like a bowl of congee brought too late. Shattered apart in his arms, lost and gone like a pendant, callously tossed aside. His Shizun, his Shizun, his Shizun had—
"Were you fighting that Liu, erm… what's-his-name again?" Shen Qingqiu asks above him, his thumb brushing over Luo Binghe's brow without him having to puppet the body into such a gentle motion. His affectation of ignorance and the ludicrous 'wise old man' voice are as plainly false as his beard, but Shizun has always been a liar. His hands are what tell the truth. The way they pet and paper. The way they stab and cast away.
Right now, the truth is impossibly gentle. It cannot last. Luo Binghe turns his head to bury it in his "advisor's" stomach rather than making do with his hand.
"He may not take that which is mine." he growls, his boiling anger rising up again only to be doused into scalding steam at the touch of Shizun's gentility.
"Is it so important to keep him?" Shizun mutters, almost to himself. Luo Binghe doesn't deem the question fit to answer. Of course. Of course. Shizun is the most important. Everything about Shizun. Every piece of him, every drop of blood, every inch of skin, Luo BInghe will keep it all, will have it all, will keep it safe this time.
His claws catch in the back of his Shizun's new robes, and the oh-so-familiar stranger strokes his hair, and presses a cool hand to his burning forehead, murmuring "Shh, shh, shh."
Luo Binghe is not well. It's a fact that's haunted him since those first rumors he awakened to, and now dogs his steps, his thoughts, even his dreams . Luo Binghe is not well, despite all the work Shen Qingqiu has put into keeping him safe.
"Now stop that!" he scolds the Luo Binghe he's dreaming about right now, dragging his arm away from the copy of himself he's been busy mutilating. "Honestly, what do you think you're doing?!"
"Enacting justice," Luo Binghe answers coldly. "You aren't supposed to be here."
Shen Yuan isn't listening to him, though. That Binghe stopped, he has a chance to kneel by the wheezing one in the crater, patting his hair gently, frowning down at his injuries. Isn't this too pathetic? It shouldn't be Binghe down here, torn apart by himself. That's Shen Qingqiu's role! What is his subconscious doing with all this?
"Shizun, don't touch that," whines the standing Binghe. "It's dirty."
Shen Yuan frowns, glancing up at the pouting demon lord.
"This is all wrong," he notes with a huff. "Isn't this supposed to be someone else?"
He looks down again, expecting to see his own former face replacing Luo Binghe's, limbs shorn away as it's supposed to be. Instead, his whole body locks up at the sight before him—not the grown, vicious Luo Binghe or the deserving villain Shen Qingqiu, but his white lotus disciple, blood seeping out of his ears, mouth, and nose, eyes wide and glassy with terror and pain, body broken and splayed. He's barely breathing—ragged lurches of his chest. Bloody tears streak down his cheeks.
They're on the bottom of the abyss. They're on the bottom of the abyss, and the wound in Binghe's chest is still bleeding, and—
"Wake up," the child before him groans past bloody teeth.
Shen Yuan wakes up in a body that won't stop shaking. Strange! How odd. He really… He should give his mushroom body more sunlight than it's getting. He probably needs to photosynthesize or something.
He stumbles past the unopened letter from Shang Qinghua, entreating a meeting with Lord Luo's new advisor. He'll make time for Airplane later, once he's sure everything's back on track. At the moment he doesn't have the energy to spare for the desperate author's attempts to survive his own stupid narrative. Anyhow, if Airplane's body growing adventures had been this successful for Shen Yuan, surely the little rat has nothing to really worry about!
Before he can make it all the way to his preferred courtyard for sunning, the ground shakes again and he heaves a heavy sigh. Already, Qingge?! Aren't you tired of getting your ass kicked by the protagonist?! Is it that intolerable to not be the strongest beneath the heavens?!
Well… SInce he's here anyway, and Shen Yuan doesn't find himself busy or too far away from the epicenter this time, surely it wouldn't hurt to go take a peek, would it? After all, though the outcome is a foregone conclusion, surely no one could blame a red blooded man like Shen Yuan for wanting to see the world's greatest warriors do battle with one another! Such a matchup as Airplane had never even tried to write! Doubtless the battle prowess of the War God and the OP Protagonist would be enough to leave one speechless! What was the point in letting himself get sucked back into the narrative in his new supporting role if he wasn't at least going to enjoy it?
He plucks a peach on his way past the courtyard, pleased with the idea of having a readily available snack for his adventure. It might not be popcorn, but the intensity of the real-life fight sequence could make up for many snack-food failings!
When he was Shen Qingqiu, he could gracefully soar up to the rooftops with barely a thought. In his new body, it takes even less than that. It's the work of a thought to send him soaring to the eaves of Huan Hua, and he sits casually on the rooftop, splitting his peach in half with a brief slice of qi. Before him, an artistic puff of smoke and dust is clearing to reveal two figures in the center.
The peach halves drop uneaten from Shen Qingqiu's hands.
Liu Qingge has been something of a pain to Shen Yuan, despite his hopes upon first saving him the Lingxi caves. His constant, insistent, somewhat-abrasive company during the years Luo Binghe was in the abyss were as much an annoyance as they were an entertainment to him. His insistence on gifting Shen Qingqiu monsters and their parts had caused a great deal of trouble for his disciples over the years, and many of their nighthunts together had been filled with ridiculous scenarios they could have avoided with just a modicum of restraint from Cang Qiong's war god.
None of that means he wants to see this—Liu Qingge, dangling from his neck in Luo Binghe's hands, shining white robes soaked with blood, Cheng Luan's gleaming blade falling from his hand, his wide eyes shining wild in the red gleam of Luo Binghe's Huadian and burning eyes.
Shen Qingqiu is on his feet without realizing it, even as Liu Qingge snarls, a sword seal sending Cheng Luan back towards Binghe, forcing the demon to drop him. It isn't force, though, Shen Yuan realizes with a lurch. Binghe could have clenched his fist and killed Liu Qingge without a thought. He might have gotten stabbed for it, but it wouldn't have killed him. He lets the war god leap away, landing off-balance on the rooftop, only to call Cheng Luan back to his hand, ready to enter the fray again.
"Give him back , demon!" Liu Qingge screams. Luo Binghe laughs at him, an unhinged, derisive cackle more befitting of a villain.
Is this what they've been doing? Shen Yuan thinks with slack-jawed horror. This is what people meant when they said they were fighting? This one-sided slaughter?! Even as he watches they clash again, and this time Cheng Luan scores an awful slice across Binghe's ribs. On a human the strike would be lethal. On Binghe, it barely causes a hitch in his laughter.
This is… This is ridiculous! Over a body? Forget wishing he'd answered Shang Qinghua's message to get ahold of some melon seeds for the show, they're trying to kill each other!
Or, well… Liu Qingge is trying to kill Luo BInghe. Luo Binghe… It seems like he could have killed Liu Qingge if he wanted, and has chosen not to? What the hell is going on here?!
At any rate, he can't stand by and let it continue! It's too awkward! Or maybe awkward isn't the right word, he admits to himself as he jolts forward off the rooftop in a flicker of preternatural speed. Maybe it's horrible. Maybe it's sickening, seeing those faces he knows so well all twisted up in hatred and pain. Maybe he really, really doesn't like being the cause of it.
He doesn't really have time to think about all that anyhow—he's busy throwing himself between the world's two greatest superpowers! (Excluding, perhaps, Yue Qingyuan, but considering that Airplane was too lazy to ever specify what the incredible powers of the Xuan Su sword actually were , even going so far as to kill him off screen—)
Cheng Luan he catches between two fingers, twisting it away from Binghe's chest, while his other hand presses flat to Luo Binghe's sternum, sending a pulse of cleansing qi through him to beat back the reddened, furious dregs of Xin Mo's influence.
"You—!" Liu Qingge barks, before grinding to an abrupt halt—presumably because he has no idea who Shen Yuan actually is!
"My lord," Advisor Peerless Cucumber says, keeping his eyes on Luo Binghe lest he get overwhelmed by how pathetic Liu QIngge appears, all bruised up and bloody. "Has this cultivator offended you so mightily?"
There's a tug on Cheng Luan. Liu Qingge must really be in a bad way, though, because Shen Qingqiu just has to tighten his fingers a little to hold it in place. Good master War God, you were more formidable after a Qi deviation! What are you doing still fighting with a demon lord while this weak!?
"Advisor," Luo Binghe greets, his voice brimming with barely-banked fury. "This man wishes to take Shizun from me!"
Shen Yuan flinches. AFter all this time, after his best efforts, Luo BInghe still? Liu Qingge pulls against the sword again.
"He's dead because of you!" the war god barks. "He should be laid to rest with honor in the sect, not kept and defiled by—"
Yeah, that's not helping. Shen Yuan lifts a leg, and kicks LIu Qingge firmly in the gut. The war god goes flying with a sharp 'Oof!', Cheng Luan still gripped tight, and plummets off the side of the building.
"My lord," he straightens now that he's not having to hold them off each other's necks, meeting Luo Binghe's fierce, burning gaze. "Your master is dead, and has been for many years. Do you still harbor such hatred for him?"
Rather than barking out a laugh or cruelly sneering in the face of those words—which, really, should be the perfect setup for a rant on the cruelties of his tyrannical shizun, Luo Binghe's snarl falters, then falls apart. His eyes widen, and his brows twist, his lips parted in as though in an agonized gasp, though he doesn't seem to be breathing at all. Shen Yuan frowns, and sends another pulse of qi through him, in case this is evidence of Xin Mo working upon his mind.
"Hate?" Luo Binghe breathes, as though in disbelief. "You think… You think I hate him?"
"Of course!" Peerless Cucumber, advisor extraordinaire declares. After all, who else knows the depths of the protagonist's suffering but him? Who else knows the lengths he would go to and has been deprived of by Shen Qingqiu's untimely death? Who else—
Luo Binghe's eyes are shining in the wrong way, and it throws Shen Yuan's inner monologue directly down into the mud, plummeting more swiftly than Liu Qingge had off the rooftop.
The first tear stripes down his cheek in such a heavy fall it doesn't even trace the curve of his face, just striping a straight line down from his lower lashes.
"He chose me for Qing Jing," Luo Binghe claims.
"And abused you daily there," spits Shen Yuan with disgust.
"He treated me well," Luo Binghe insists.
"Not well enough," huffs Shen Yuan with a scowl, lip twisting at the memory of his own failures towards the child.
"He saved me in Jin Lan city at the cost of his own life!" Luo Binghe barks, reaching forward and clawing both his hands in Peerless Cucumber's sleeves.
"After throwing you personally into hell!" Shen Yuan yells back. Oh, shit, is that common knowledge? He should—He—
Binghe's shaking him, gently. Back and forth, by the grip on his sleeves.
"I want him back," the young man cries.
"Because your revenge is incomplete?" Shen Yuan offers, uncertain suddenly in the face of those sweet tears.
"What revenge!?" the protagonist wails. "What hate!? Who would I hate but myself?! Who has taken him from me but myself?! Who would I seek revenge on but myself?! Shizun, I—I really—I won't be able to live if you leave me again!"
Shen Yuan is so fucking confused that he fully forgets he should be scared. He's too busy staring open-mouthed at Luo Binghe, the expression wide enough that it tugs on his stuck-on beard. Binghe knows? Of course Binghe knows, he's the protagonist, it only makes sense, keep up Shen Yuan, there are more important things, like… Like…
"But," Shen Yuan breathes. "I hurt you."
"Hurt me again," Binghe begs. "Beat me, hurt me, punish me, throw me to hell, just don't go , don't leave me again , Shizun, I can't, I can't, I—"
Shen Yuan is gathering him up before the impulse fully registers. Binghe is so much bigger than him, in this new mushroom body. He pulses gentle, soothing qi into his meridians, working through the last vestiges of Xin Mo's influence, hoping it will help settle him down. Instead Binghe just bursts into tears and drops to his knees, pressed up close against him.
"There now," Peerless Cucumber—or, well, no need to call himself that anymore he supposes—Shen Yuan strokes his hair, holding him close as he shakes and cries. "There now, there's no need for this. I'll stay. I'll stay…"
Later, they'll find the body gone. Liu Qingge is an opportunist if nothing else. Binghe hovers in the doorway to the room where he'd kept it, anxious and uncertain, but Shen Yuan breathes a sigh of relief.
"Let them have it," he insists, one hand on Binghe's arm. "Shen Qingqiu is dead. From now on, let me just be Shen Yuan with you."
"Shen Yuan," Luo Binghe whispers once, then he bends, and breathes "Shen Yuan" again, against his ear this time. When his mouth turns further, and presses their lips together… Well, what's Shen Yuan supposed to do but let him? After all, Luo Binghe has had such a long, hard day.
(and if Luo Binghe gets a little beard hair in his mouth from trying to chew at Shen Yuan's lips, that's just what he gets for indulging in bad habits! Shen Yuan will shave later.)