Chapter Text
Luo Binghe almost misses the small, grey lump of fur lying by the side of the street. Hidden behind an abandoned shop cart, the fox is all curled up, its ears folded, its nine very skinny tails sheltering its tiny body. Perhaps it’s a defense mechanism of sorts, perhaps it’s because it’s the thick of winter; whatever it is, the poor thing is huddled amidst its nine tails and freezing all over, barely able to lift its head up from where it hides in the alleyway. Luo Binghe almost passes it by, but something twists so acutely in his gut as he does so, and the greater powers of this universe seem to tug him back—into the direction of the cursed little thing.
His feet takes him right before the shivering animal, whereupon he gives an uncomfortable kick to the fox. It’s neither aggressive nor vile; for even though he remains a demon lord in soul and in memory, he’d transmigrated back to his rather unsavoury twelve-year-old body, where his powers, strength and cultivation still remain heavily limited. Luo Binghe still can’t do much damage in this form. He doesn’t intend to, anyway, not now, not to a wounded animal, a creature much lesser than he is. Winter was always long and bitter around these parts, each one worse than the year before. It’s no wonder animals were dying here, right out in the open on these streets, with no one and nothing left to care for them.
The young fox stirs awake, from its bleary daze from before, having slipped in and out of consciousness this whole time from the rawness of the cold. It peeks an eye open, fluttering its long lashes up to reveal bright emerald green, the sweet hue of spring clover, the hint of all things newborn in the summer. Then it peels open another, painfully slowly, until both eyes are fully staring up at Luo Binghe, its nine tails unwrapping around a slender, youthful, and very human face that belongs to a kit—or more accurately, a sweet, young fox spirit.
Huli jing, Luo Binghe thinks as he widens his eyes, when he realises what he’s dealing with—or who exactly it is he has found. Fox spirits are rare enough as it is, its already small population vastly shrinking in numbers and quickly going extinct from overhunting; and by the time he’d come of age to receive a proper education at Cang Qiong Mountain in his previous life to best understand the gravity of the situation, there were hardly any fox spirits left—if any—in the world, memorialised only within myths and precautionary tales. Luo Binghe had never met one in his life, and he’d been the all-mighty ruler of the Demon Realm.
To see one in the flesh is a sight riveting on its own, but to be met with that…
...and the unmistakable hateful green eyes of his shizun?
Unless Xin Mo had magically attained the new ability to construct entirely new universes from scratch, which while Luo Binghe knows is not completely out of the question, he’s almost positively certain is not the case here—then it can only mean that his shizun, his despicable and rotten and so painfully beautiful shizun, must have brutally concealed the truth of his nature all this while, and taken this very secret to his grave. But how? Luo Binghe should have been able to detect it, if not by stripping him bare, then with all the blood parasites he let loose within his shizun’s body.
In a way, it irks him; that even right up till the very end, Shen Qingqiu still managed to best him. That Shen Qingqiu still found a way to hide something as important as this, something so—significant, so poignant, so pitiful, even; with far-reaching consequences that could have so drastically altered his sorry fate. Because Luo Binghe knows all too clearly why his shizun must have seen the need to hide this away from everyone else, and though he doesn’t know exactly he already has a very good guess; fox spirits are seen as dangerous and seductive creatures, mischievous and sly tricksters that steal human essence to enrich their own spirit, and really only good for bedding—or hunting. For their fur is exquisite, its softness and beauty unparalleled and unlike any other, often made into cloaks and weapons for royalty or high-ranking officials; and when worn or consumed by humans, said to provide divine healing and immortality-granting properties.
There is no way Shen Qingqiu would have lasted a day as the high-esteemed Qing Jing Peak Lord if word got out that he was a huli jing. He’d either have been ridiculed and spurned by his fellow peak lords and disciples, had his abilities and cultivation called into question because surely a fox spirit must have bewitched and swindled his way up to the very top; or he’d have been abducted and cooked into soup by overly eager hunters the minute he set foot off the mountain. Hell, perhaps he’d even have been ambushed right within the comfort of his own bamboo hut—fox spirits had become that prized and coveted in these parts of the world.
All this time, Luo Binghe had been so desperate to know what the key to unravelling his shizun was, what his weakness really was.
Who knew it had always been right there, just staring him in the face?
At his present young age, his shizun still lacks the cultivation and know-how to conceal his fluffy ears and tail. He still lacks the ability to disguise the overflowing beauty of a fox, the natural poison, the grace, the charm, the dark wispy lashes that already bat right up at him—in a way that Luo Binghe knows will prove utterly devastating and lethal many, many years later.
Those emerald green eyes do indeed gaze hatefully right up at him, but it takes only a second for Luo Binghe to realise that it’s not all directed towards him, no, it’s hatred for everyone else, hatred for the universe to bring Shen Qingqiu into such a world where Shen Qingqiu has nothing, no one, not even a loaf of bread to eat for so many days now that Shen Qingqiu has lost count. It’s hatred for being made to live when living is so wretched and akin to walking on nails.
This Shen Qingqiu does not hate him. This Shen Qingqiu needs him.
And when he parts his little mouth to speak, lips chapped and yet so adorably rosy-red still, it threatens to ruin Luo Binghe.
“Gege,” Shen Qingqiu huffs out, his big, bright eyes blinking up in what looks like a plea. “Gege, I’m so hungry.” His face is dirtied, his pink, puffy cheeks soiled with grime and soot. But he’s so cold, he can’t even muster the strength to wipe his face clean.
Already so young, and his allure is impossible to resist.
Luo Binghe’s stomach flips, in a way that it never did before, not when it came to his shizun, at least.
But this—!
This—!
This was—completely, and so infuriatingly, cute…!
“What,” Luo Binghe swallows, unable to believe his ears. Never in a million universes would he have envisioned his shizun to be this—illegal. “What did you just call me?”
Shen Qingqiu blinks again, frowning a bit harder this time. “I’m already so hungry!” he howls out, on the verge of yelling, and he probably would if he had the strength. But he doesn’t, and he’s still so dreadfully thin, and he really doesn’t think he can last one more day if this good-for-nothing gege won’t get food to him, already. His teeth are chattering as he pleads, “Gege, gege, won’t you take pity on poor ol’ me? Please, I’ll even give you some of my fur if you want. Gege, I’m so hungry…”
Luckily, Luo Binghe’s cultivation is still at the point where he’s not quite strong enough yet to qi deviate. But if ever that point had to be reached, it would be now.
(He’d called him gege a total of (5) times, within the span of just two minutes. Luo Binghe had counted.)
Shen Qingqiu’s clearly intelligent enough to know his fur can fetch him at least something, even at his tender age. Luo Binghe looks at how thin and frazzled they are, and wonders if Shen Qingqiu has given away far more strands of fur than he can count, all for food and sustenance and to get by on these chilly streets. He feels another punch to his gut again. It has to be painful, at least, he thinks. And I may have always wanted you to suffer, but you’re just a mere child.
“I don’t need your fur,” Luo Binghe tells him, shaking his head. “Can you walk? I’ll take you to get some food.”
Shen Qingqiu’s ears perk up, springing to life. All the venom melts away in his voice, as his nine tails twirl happily around him. “Gege! You’re so nice! Shen Shen will follow gege, as long as there’s food!” He scrambles to his feet, tails unravelling from the lower half of his body so the fox spirit can steady himself on his two scrawny legs.
There are purple and red bruises on his knees, evidently from kneeling too long in the cold. He’s still a little unbalanced, almost wobbling over from the lack of strength in his calves.
Luo Binghe’s arm reaches out to grab hold of Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders before he topples over and falls head-first into the ground. His poor shizun can’t even stand on his own.
It seems like Luo Binghe will have to take things into his hands. Quite literally, as a matter of fact.
He does not even bother asking. Even if Shen Qingqiu protests, they won’t be getting very far on those weak legs of his. Luo Binghe’s hands wrap around Shen Qingqiu’s small frame, and pulls him up easily into a tight embrace, nestling the young fox spirit right against his chest.
Shen Qingqiu is, rather predictably, affronted by such a thing. “Put me down,” he hisses out, with the same vitriol Luo Binghe finds so familiar. It seems his nice and polite demeanour from before was but an act… of course. “Put me down! I can walk by myself!”
“You cannot,” Luo Binghe chastises, hugging his shizun to himself that much tighter. He’s almost afraid that if he doesn’t, his shizun will leap out and run off from him. Not that his shizun realistically could, not when he’s starving and still so weak. But Luo Binghe has trudged through so many cities, and spent far too many months trying to find out why of all universes he’d been sent into this one by Xin Mo—only for him to discover his shizun and realise the very answer. “Be good, and let gege carry you. You can walk on your own after you’ve had some food.”
Shen Qingqiu wants to continue to object, but the cold gets to him at this point, and he loudly sneezes. His tails automatically wound around his frail self once more, bringing him what little heat and comfort is still possible.
Luo Binghe’s one hand cradles the back of Shen Qingqiu’s head, so his face is turned to his chest.
“Don’t talk,” Luo Binghe says. “Save your strength and energy.”
Shen Qingqiu goes very still, like he can’t believe the audacity of this gege. But after Luo Binghe crosses a street, and then another, he finally finds it in him to give in, and nuzzles his cheek into Luo Binghe’s warm chest.
“Mean gege,” Shen Qingqiu whispers, still in an irate tone, even though his lips are now slightly curled.
Luo Binghe has never wanted to be needed by anything else, more.
They enter the first brothel they find, where Luo Binghe drops a pouch of coins over the counter and hands over Shen Qingqiu to a group of overly thrilled ladies, anxious to spoil and coddle the young fox spirit brought to their attention.
“A huli jing, in the flesh? He’s so pretty,” they coo and sing praises of Shen Qingqiu, multiple hands extending out to pinch at his full cheeks and admire his cute furry tails. “Little huli jing, won’t you stay with us? We could do so much with you.” And Shen Qingqiu basks in the attention, like he knows he’s pretty, that little minx.
Luo Binghe makes sure to emphasise to them then, “Just a bath and clean robes for him, please,” afraid for them to get other ideas about taking Shen Qingqiu away from him. “I’ll have some food in the meantime. Bring him to me when you are done.”
They laugh and tell him, “Of course, young sir,” like he’s to be respected as a customer despite his young age. But he comes bearing silver and gold coins that he’d saved up over the past few months performing the odd job and errand as well as the extermination of low-level demons, all for the day he’d inevitably need the money, and so he has a say in this brothel, whether they like it or not.
And so the group of ladies whisk him away, in a cloud of perfume and cheap silk, too happy to be paid to do such a thing instead of gurgling balls in their mouth.
Luo Binghe is mid-way through his rice bowl when they return Shen Qingqiu to him, plopping him down on a much taller chair right opposite him.
The first thing Luo Binghe realises, with a jolt, is that Shen Qingqiu is not grey—instead, he is white. Pure white. Snow white. His fur has been scrubbed clean of all of the grime and dirt, and now glistens underneath the pale yellow lantern lights. They’d trimmed his fur too, leaving it looking less ragged and much more sleek and glossy. Shen Qingqiu looks like a newly groomed pet, one of a wealthy master’s.
The second thing Luo Binghe notices, is that Shen Qingqiu is far more beautiful than he’d even realised. The emerald green in his eyes resembles exquisite gemstones and jewels, contrasting against the rare white of his fur and skin. His dark hair is mid-length, to his shoulders, still growing but appropriately kept at a length maintainable for the likes of a child. But his cat eyes are big, his cherry lips are pursed into a permanent pout, and his beauty is wholly devastating, as it rightfully is—it’s only to be expected, after all, from a pure-bred fox spirit.
The third thing Luo Binghe discerns, is that the ladies in the brothel have gone well above and beyond what he actually asked for. Because all he’d paid for was a bath and some clean robes, but they’ve clearly taken a great liking to Shen Qingqiu, and adorned him with their best silk, hastily tailored within the hour to fit his small and growing frame. They’ve applied loose powder and dotted his lips with red rouge, and then the remainder to his cheeks, as well. And so Shen Qingqiu wears green bamboo on his sleeves, and a jade hairpiece in his hair, albeit a fake one. It doesn’t matter. It hardly distracts from his lovely countenance, and his regal manner. Shen Qingqiu has a way of carrying himself in a way that makes him look far more important than he really is; this much hasn’t changed since he was a child.
And then, of course, there’s that, “Gege, if you stared any harder your eyes would fall right off,” smugness from Shen Qingqiu, and Luo Binghe’s hazy mind snaps right back to the present.
“Am I that pretty to look at?” Shen Qingqiu asks, tiny hands reaching up to prod happily at his clean ears. “Gege, do you think I’ve become pretty?”
“Eat,” Luo Binghe tells him, because he can’t summon a response to say otherwise. He knows his shizun has always been so obnoxiously beautiful—he just can’t fathom knowing that was only the tip of the surface of how his shizun had actually looked. Because his shizun would have had to employ much cultivation and magic to obscure most of his good looks, didn’t he? Fox spirits are meant to be insanely attractive creatures, their looks meant to be weaponised and used to seduce their way into survival. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t have just flaunted that beauty out front, without a care for others. Now everything suddenly made sense, especially with how drawn Luo Binghe had always been to him despite holding such deep hatred for his shizun…
Shen Qingqiu happily digs into his food.
Luo Binghe’s appetite slows down the minute Shen Qingqiu is here, preferring to keep his eyes on the fox spirit instead. I… I want, the realisation hits him hard-hittingly, like a ton of bricks. I want to take care of shizun, forever.
It’s like death and murder never even crossed his mind. A lifetime’s worth of grudges and misery—all gone to the wind, all forgiven because Shen Qingqiu is such a small little thing, and he relies on Luo Binghe, and he needs Luo Binghe’s protection.
And he calls him gege. That’s the best thing; that’s the only thing, that Luo Binghe even cares about.
“You are pretty,” Luo Binghe says, when he finally finds his voice again. Shen Qingqiu beams, when he hears this. “Did you say your name was Shen Shen?”
Shen Qingqiu is already halfway through his meal at this point. He’d chosen all the sweeter dishes, leaving out the spicy and bland ones. Especially the bland ones. The young fox spirit is picky, and notoriously fond of his sweets.
“Mm, my last name is Shen,” Shen Qingqiu answers, chubby cheeks still chewing a whole mouth’s worth full of pork and rice. “But I don’t really have any other name.”
Not even a proper name.
Luo Binghe’s appetite grows from bad to worse. This life has been far too cruel to his shizun.
“Gege,” Shen Qingqiu flutters his eyes back up to him, lips in a delicate—calculated—pout. “On account of your kindness today, how about you give me a name? You can call me whatever you like~”
Luo Binghe freezes right then and there, almost spitting out what little rice grains he has in his mouth. He certainly hadn’t expected to be bestowed with such a… thing.
“H...Haa?”
Luo Binghe! His inner consciousness chides. This is a child! A literal child!
“Anything you like,” Shen Qingqiu grins, batting his eyes.
Luo Binghe averts his eyes to the ground, ransacking his brain for an answer quickly so he doesn’t quite come across as an idiot before a literal child. “J-Jiu.”
Shen Qingqiu blinks. “Hm?”
“Nine tails,” Luo Binghe sputters out. It’s the only thing he can think of. He’s not particularly original in this endeavour, either. “S-Shen Jiu.”
“Shen Jiu?” Shen Qingqiu takes a second to think it over. He looks back at his nine tails, who dance behind him and take on a life of their own as they vigorously nod back to him and show their acceptance. “Hm. It’s not bad.”
Shizun said not bad! His inner consciousness gleefully notes. Well done, Luo Binghe!
(Less than a day, and he’s already back to craving the sweet, sweet validation of his young shizun. Just like that, Luo Binghe is back to square one, right where he started.)
The brothel ladies seem to approve as well, for they descend upon and surround the young fox spirit holding chests full of jewelry and sweets, still not quite done with playing with Shen Qingqiu—no, from now on, Shen Jiu—yet.
“Jiu-mei,” they sing and dance around him, lovingly calling him by his newly given name, reluctant to let him go. “Have everything you want on the house!”
But Shen Jiu is still a child, and so he only chooses the tanghulu, something he’d always hankered after and craved for, but never had the means to buy.
A genuine smile slips out then, as Shen Jiu sucks down on the hard candy on a stick. It’s all he ever wanted.
“Shizun...” Luo Binghe can’t help but ask softly, when he sees those green eyes light up in ways they never did before. “...Are you happy?”
“Mn,” Shen Jiu tells him, nodding his head with a healthy flush to his cheeks. He’s slightly confused by the shizun, but he’s not in the mood to pursue it any further. He’s very happy with his new clothes and tanghulu! “I’m happy with gege.”
In a sudden burst of courage, Luo Binghe parts his lips, and asks him, hoping with all of his heart that he will say yes, “Then, do you accept gege?”
Shen Jiu’s confused once more, but the tanghulu proves to be too good of a distraction.
He nods, “Mn.”
“Do you think gege is a good person?”
“Mn.”
“Do you trust gege to take good care of you?”
“Mn.”
“If gege wanted to take care of you for the rest of your life… would you follow gege?”
Shen Jiu blinks a good amount of times at what he hears. Such innocence. It still startles Luo Binghe to see of it.
“Gege wants A-Jiu?” Shen Jiu asks, disbelievingly.
And from there on, Luo Binghe’s heart is stolen from him, forever.
“Yes,” Luo Binghe whispers, rather shakily. “Yes, I want A-Jiu, more than anything in the world.”
Shen Jiu doesn’t even think about it.
It’s the first time anyone ever wanted him to stay.
“Mn,” he nods, giving a piece of his—still so pure, so trusting, so unblemished, so unbroken—heart away. A Shen Jiu that still doesn’t know the terrors of slavery, of being abandoned by the one man he held so dear; a Shen Jiu that only knows starvation and homelessness, and still so desperately in need of a person to trust and call his own. “Then A-Jiu also wants gege.”
Shen Jiu finds himself a home.
They spend their first night together in the brothel, in a room Luo Binghe pays for so his shizun can finally experience how it feels like to rest his head on a soft bed, for once. There are no women to serve them, there is simply no need. Luo Binghe is twelve, without Xin Mo, and still hardly at the age for lust. His mind does not stray that far, anyway. Not with his shizun crawling into his bed, willingly, curling up against him with the magnificence of all of his nine tails.
Shen Jiu is sleepy. He’s a child. He’s exhausted from the happenings of the day, and his belly is full in a way that it hasn’t been in a very, very long time. So he opens his mouth and he yawns, as his small hands prod at Luo Binghe’s rather thick and sturdy chest to scoot over and make way for his big, cushiony tails.
“It’s so warm,” Shen Jiu hums with half-lidded eyes, sounding far more giddy and blissful than Luo Binghe can take.
Luo Binghe wonders how much his shizun has had to bear with, in his absence, up till now.
He has so many questions, and he doesn’t even know where to start.
“Have you always been alone?” Luo Binghe asks, the question slipping out of his mouth faster than he can even stop it. Because he knows things about Shen Qingqiu, far more than he’d like. In order to properly exact his revenge, his blood parasites had reached and crawled into every inch of the crevices of Shen Qingqiu’s mind, digging out every shameful memory Shen Qingqiu had locked up and buried away. And Luo Binghe knows every little thing; he knows about Yue Qingyuan, he knows about Qi-ge, he knows about Qiu Jianluo, and all the horrific things Shen Qingqiu has been made to endure. He knows.
What Luo Binghe really wants to know is, Have you met him, yet? Have you met the man that will be the one to tip you over the edge, be the one responsible for your final ruin?
But Shen Jiu merely says, with heavy eyelids that flutter close, “I’ve never had anyone else besides you, gege.” And Luo Binghe’s anxious heart is soothed.
“Do you call everyone you meet gege?” Luo Binghe asks again, much more urgently this time.
Shen Jiu wrinkles his nose in annoyance, too tired to even roll his eyes at the boy’s nonsensical questions. “No, only the handsome ones,” he says, in a sickeningly sweet voice. “Can I go to sleep now?”
Luo Binghe is delighted.
“Goodnight, A-Jiu,” Luo Binghe murmurs, palming Shen Jiu’s forehead gently.
“Nigh’ nigh’,” Shen Jiu responds sleepily.
He does smile this time, as he burrows his face into Luo Binghe’s chest. As exasperating as this gege is sometimes—or how hungry he is for Shen Jiu’s validation, don’t think the young fox spirit hasn’t noticed—the boy, indeed, has a very nice, warm chest for Shen Jiu to fall asleep on.
As far as random kind strangers go, this one isn’t so bad.
Shen Jiu prides himself on his sixth sense, too. And he wouldn’t follow just anyone home, much less to a brothel. He knows this gege wouldn’t hurt him. Not now, at least. Preferably, ever. But for now, Shen Jiu will take whatever he can get.
And tonight, it’s snuggling up in his arms, with Luo Binghe holding him so tight like he’s never wanted anything else.
They spend a few more nights in the brothel, only because Shen Jiu seems to enjoy the company of the ladies so much, and Luo Binghe thinks it’s good for Shen Jiu to eat to his heart’s fullest and be put in high spirits before they set off for the road. He takes the extra time he gets to think everything over, too, and develop some plans for the future. Their future. In his previous life, Luo Binghe had completely lost interest in living the minute his shizun departed from the world. It hadn’t been quite the revenge that he so wanted. He’d gone stir crazy and quite demented and deranged, and in a fit of rage, had whipped out Xin Mo to lead him to a place where he could find purpose again. He didn’t know what or how he was going to find it; he just wanted one.
But then Xin Mo led him right here, to a period in time much earlier than he should have existed, without giving a hint or clue whatsoever as to what he was here for; and Luo Binghe had drifted aimlessly wherever he went, doing the bare minimum for survival, going from city to city in desperate search of something new to live for.
Until he found his shizun.
Small, pretty, and so pure. Packaged up nicely for him with emerald eyes and white fur, handed to him on a silver platter.
At age twelve, Luo Binghe’s at the prime age to begin taking his cultivation seriously. If he were to still pursue illusions of grandeur, or big dreams of becoming the Heavenly Demonic ruler once again, perhaps he’d be best on his way to a great sect right now to hone his cultivation until he’s ready to venture into the Endless Abyss once more.
But Luo Binghe already had all of that once, and it’d gotten him nowhere. Nowhere even close to the way his heart beats right now, feeling more alive than ever as his beautiful shizun comes to him—seeks comfort in him—listens to him—wants him—relies on him; and Luo Binghe wants to forsake all of this… for what? To preside over a bunch of foolish humans and demons, and take charge of realms that cared not for him anyway?
No, Luo Binghe wants a life with his shizun. His sweet little shizun, his very own A-Jiu.
(Take that, Other Luo Binghe. You may have a kinder, more pliable Shen Qingqiu, but my shizun’s far cuter, far more prickly, and far more coquettish than yours will ever be. My A-Jiu reigns superior.)
Luo Binghe will take Shen Jiu along with him, travel around for a bit. But eventually, he wants to settle down with the fox spirit, perhaps in a nice hut on the outskirts of town. He’d ultimately still let Shen Jiu choose where he’d want to live—hence, the travels. But he hopes for a peaceful and calm domestic life with his shizun, far away from the extremities and atrocities of the cultivation world. There’s no need to want for power. He hopes his shizun would see it that way, too. Because weren’t they all children, once? His shizun now has no need for worldly desires. Luo Binghe would like to keep it that way.
Shen Jiu has a grand time in the brothel, spending much of his days hiding behind folding screens and giggling and gossiping with his newly acquired friends. Luo Binghe doesn’t pry much. The ladies teach Shen Jiu songs and dances, and how to properly brush and care for his white fur. They braid his hair, then tie it into pigtails, then adorn him with ribbons, and tire Shen Jiu out until he falls asleep on their chest, drooling just a tad bit and smudging the wet rouge on his lips.
Shen Jiu is happy. Luo Binghe is happy.
So, by the end of the week, when Luo Binghe announces it’s time to leave, Shen Jiu is sorry to go, but knows his gege has already given him far more days here than Shen Jiu could have ever asked for.
“You’re not upset?” Luo Binghe asks curiously, as Shen Jiu packs the last of the jewelry and clothes given to him into a small qiankun pouch Luo Binghe made for him.
“No,” Shen Jiu tells him, with the full determination and understanding of an adult. “Bing-gege has things to do, so A-Jiu will follow him. A-Jiu cannot be selfish forever.”
Ah, yes, Bing-gege. Ever since Shen Jiu learned of Luo Binghe’s full name, he’d taken to calling him Bing-gege instead, finding it a much more familiar term of endearment than just gege.
Luo Binghe likes it. He likes whatever his shizun comes up with.
“You are rather mature for a child,” Luo Binghe says, with a hand rustling through Shen Jiu’s hair. How cute.
Shen Jiu winces. “And Bing-gege is very immature, despite being older.”
“How so?”
“In every manner possible,” Shen Jiu sticks his nose up and says. He seals the qiankun pouch, and hands it over to Luo Binghe for safekeeping. “Here.”
Luo Binghe takes the pouch, and wonders how easy it was for Shen Jiu to place his entire fate in his hands.
Just like he did for his Qi-ge.
“Were you always going to follow the first person who showed you kindness?” Luo Binghe wonders aloud.
Shen Jiu cocks his head to the side, puzzled by the question.
“Bing-gege, you’re being weird again.”
“Nevermind,” Luo Binghe says, taking his hand into his. Shen Jiu’s palms are still soft, still so unscarred, having never done a day’s worth of work in his life besides begging for food on the streets. “Let’s go.”
“Mn,” Shen Jiu nods, firm and courageous.
They step out of the brothel together, this time much more appropriately cloaked for the winter, dressed in red and green, accordingly.
And so begins their new life together.
Shen Jiu is a sight to behold wherever he goes; as a young fox spirit, he is in his very prime and looking rather healthy and ripe for the kill. It becomes a problem, just slightly, while they’re on their travels. But it’s nothing Luo Binghe can’t handle. His cultivation may be far weaker in this body, for he hasn’t quite honed it enough yet at his age, but it’s still good enough to rid whatever hostile parties—mostly human—that come their way. His powers as a demon remain unsealed in this form, which means Luo Binghe is free to harness them as he wishes, in a way he never got to in his previous life. He can handle any monster. He can protect his A-Jiu.
He does get Shen Jiu to hide his nine tails and ears under his cloak when in unsavoury parts of town, but most times he simply lets the fox spirit be free. His shizun hid his true nature all his life in their previous lifetime, and it aches Luo Binghe to command the same of him in this new one. Luo Binghe wants Shen Jiu to flourish and thrive in ways he was never able to before, and he does notice Shen Jiu taking pride in the ways others would marvel in awe and admiration at his form. There is the occasional derogatory remark from the random passerby, yes, but Luo Binghe always makes sure to handle them in such a way they know never to utter such again (or even have a tongue to speak with, again). He tells Shen Jiu to pay no mind to them, for he knows his shizun’s young heart is still quite fragile.
Shen Jiu does listen to him, though. Shen Jiu heeds every word of his to heart, and only grows stronger and more confident underneath his Bing-gege’s affirming words of affection.
“No one can make you feel bad for who you are,” Luo Binghe says to him, while coming to a sudden realisation that his shizun—before pushing him into the Endless Abyss—might have wanted to spare Luo Binghe the same fate of having to permanently seal his demon nature away, like his shizun himself had to do so, should Luo Binghe have remained in Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. Had he always misunderstood his shizun’s intentions, all this time? Had his shizun meant to save him? “No one, unless you let them.”
“What do you take me for? I’m better than that,” Shen Jiu answers back, though he beams at what he hears, anyway. “I’m not ashamed of who I am.”
“Good,” Luo Binghe says. “Good.” And he wants it to remain that way.
As a fox spirit, it’s inevitable for Shen Jiu to eventually have to cultivate. As a huli jing, Shen Jiu is, by nature, a creature of yin that has to, at his very core, consume masculine yang energy to garner strength, further his cultivation, and maintain his immortality. Most fox spirits steal the life force of men through seduction. Luo Binghe would have been willing—but Shen Jiu is far too young for that. Additionally, Luo Binghe has done his research, and he knows there are other, far better ways to go about it. A huli jing can choose to absorb their much needed essence from nature instead, in a bid to refine their spirit. It’s a much more superior form of self-cultivation that would purify Shen Jiu’s soul and make him far stronger than via the traditional, licentious methods.
So when he returns to the inn he left Shen Jiu at, having spent the better part of his day helping an old villager exorcise a demon out of their daughter’s body to earn some coins to continue their travels, and he sees Shen Jiu running up to him, eager to welcome his Bing-gege back, he’s not at all surprised to hear Shen Jiu tugging at the hems of his robes, with a gaze that seems much more doe-eyed than usual,
“Bing-gege,” Shen Jiu asks so sweetly, and that’s how Luo Binghe knows Shen Jiu wants a favour. “Will you teach A-Jiu how to cultivate?”
There are innate powers residing inside of Shen Jiu that the fox spirit is not sure how to deal with. But he can feel it building inside of him, just waiting to be unleashed, and if there’s anyone that can guide him through it, it’s his very own Binghe-gege. Because isn’t his Bing-gege such a great, talented cultivator in his own right? Only age twelve, and he’s already going around saving villages from great ruin!
“You’re still very young,” Luo Binghe tells him. But he knows where Shen Jiu is coming from; the discomfort on his shizun’s face tells him all he needs to know about the limitless, budding power accumulating inside of his tiny body. “I can teach you simple meditation techniques to manage your qi.”
“Please teach me, gege,” Shen Jiu beseeches him.
So Luo Binghe does. He begins imparting whatever relevant teachings he can remember from his time as an esteemed Qing Jing Peak disciple, instilling into Shen Jiu only the most graceful and refined of practices so as to ensure Shen Jiu gets as much of a proper education as he can, away from the cultivation sects. Typically, the average cultivator only begins serious training at a slightly older age, but the ones from wealthier families begin practicing much earlier. Bai Zhan Peak Lord Liu Qingge was a good example.
If anything, teaching his shizun how to meditate would make it much easier on Shen Jiu in the long run. Even if his shizun doesn’t hold lofty dreams of having great cultivation or conquering the world, it’d be beneficial for Shen Jiu to know how to navigate life as a fox spirit.
As Luo Binghe spends the bulk of his day away on missions, Shen Jiu stays holed up in the inn until his gege comes back—Luo Binghe doesn’t trust Shen Jiu to be safe, out on the streets without him around—and meditates all day, learning to absorb what he needs from the air and wood around him, learning to be one with nature and purifying and absolving his laden spirit of unnecessary burdens.
Shen Jiu is naturally gifted at cultivation, and heavily talented. Within two weeks, Shen Jiu has already mastered the most basic of meditation, something that took the typical Qing Jing Peak disciple, at age twelve, to master within a month. It’s no surprise, considering the base his shizun is working with. But Luo Binghe had once heard rumours that his shizun’s cultivation was weaker than most, owing to the late start he’d had as well as his time with Wu Yanzi—though Luo Binghe now thinks Shen Jiu sealing away his huli jing nature must have played a major factor as well. Normal human cultivation techniques aren’t well-suited for hybrids such as him, much less pure-breds like Shen Jiu. Oh, how his shizun must have suffered, previously…
Perhaps it’s just an illusion, and perhaps Luo Binghe’s late nights labouring away at the villages are finally taking a toll on him. But now that his shizun has learned to begin cultivating properly, his tails seem to be growing even fatter, looking much healthier, looking irresistibly fluffier, and even lightening several shades into a cute, milky white, transforming into the peak form of the huli jing he was always meant to be.
And when Luo Binghe returns back to the inn to have dinner with Shen Jiu, it’s always Shen Jiu who’s kicking up a fuss with how dirty his Bing-gege is, taking off his outer robes and hurrying to pass it to the inn maids for a good wash. It’s Shen Jiu who runs around to the back of the kitchen, instructing impatiently for the cook and help to serve the dishes up to their room, and how they must not delay for even a second because Bing-gege has worked hard all day and must be starving and needs to be waited upon now that he’s back!
(The cooks and maids are not vexed by this tiny huli jing bossing them around at all. No, Shen Jiu’s very presence is endearing, and he’s simultaneously the quietest, most intelligent child they’ve come across, as well as the most nitpicky and ill-tempered one.)
“Bing-gege, eat,” Shen Jiu announces respectfully to his gege in the comfort of their room, when the maids finally set the table with dishes and leave them be. He makes sure to only pick up his rice bowl when Luo Binghe does so himself, and only to begin eating once his Bing-gege swallows his first grain of rice.
If Luo Binghe wasn’t already convinced to do away with any vile intentions regarding his shizun by now, then this sight alone has to be compelling enough, at least.
His shizun clearly thinks the world of him. Shen Jiu won’t eat until Luo Binghe does, won’t sleep until Luo Binghe tucks him in, won’t leave the inn unless Luo Binghe tells him to do so.
Such an obedient child.
Luo Binghe must have slipped into another one of his dazes again, because Shen Jiu has on another exasperated look on his face as he crawls up higher on his chair and leans over the table with his short, chubby arms, dropping a few pieces of meat with his chopsticks into Luo Binghe’s rice bowl.
“Gege, I said eat,” Shen Jiu emphasises, like Luo Binghe is an idiot. And maybe he is, just for Shen Jiu. “Not stare. Stop staring! The food is not on my face!”
Luo Binghe can’t stop grinning as he looks back down into his bowl, immediately scarfing down the food his beloved A-Jiu had given him.
Shen Jiu seems content to see this, for he slinks back into his own seat, and resumes eating. He swings both his legs energetically from where he sits high up in his chair, the happiness not apparent on his face but instead hidden underneath the wooden table.
The words go unsaid, but Luo Binghe can hear it all too clearly in the silence.
Let’s stay like this forever. Let’s be like this, together, forever.
Luo Binghe promises Shen Jiu they’ll spend just one day more in this small town before moving off to the next one, knowing his shizun is getting restless and anxious to move on, instead of being stuck in an inn all day. Luo Binghe thinks he’ll stop taking on any more jobs as well, having saved up quite a bit of coins with this latest one. It’d been a big one, exterminating a fair bit of demons, much more than he usually handles. Luo Binghe knows he’s been neglecting his shizun, his time with him reduced to just sharing morning meals and having dinners together. His shizun might not have complained about it thus far, but he knows the fox spirit has grown incredibly lonely. He wouldn’t look so happy to see his Bing-gege back every night, otherwise.
Luo Binghe plans to spend some quality time with Shen Jiu after this, perhaps have some fun splurging on better inn stays and visiting the odd brothel (after all, Shen Jiu enjoys the company of the ladies there very much). As a reward for his shizun’s good behaviour, Luo Binghe decides to hand him some silver coins too on their last day here, telling Shen Jiu he can go out to the streets with the company of an inn maid and buy some things before Luo Binghe comes back.
“Don’t stray too far from the inn,” Luo Binghe instructs, with full confidence that Shen Jiu will listen to him. “You know it can get dangerous.”
“Mn,” Shen Jiu nods whole-heartedly, knowing his Bing-gege means no malice, and is simply protective. They’ve travelled quite a bit by now, and he’s seen his fair share of, well, bluntly speaking, predators. He’s still a child, so Bing-gege gets him a chaperone. But he’s content and grateful enough that Bing-gege wants to give him coins and the freedom to buy things, so he doesn’t complain. “A-Jiu will get some sweets for the road.”
“Good,” Luo Binghe smiles, a hand tousling through Shen Jiu’s hair. Shen Jiu pulls a face. “I’ll try to be back before dinner.”
After Luo Binghe leaves, Shen Jiu does head out with the inn maid assigned to him as promised, and roam the nearby streets. He does have his trusty green cloak on, just in case he needs it, but otherwise he lets his ears and tails spring free.
Shen Jiu stops at every interesting street stall that he sees, mostly food and sweets he can take with him for the road. He does eventually pause at a stall that sells wooden combs though, hoping to find something he can buy for his Bing-gege. Bing-gege’s hair is so long, curly and messy all the time, and even Shen Jiu, a child half his age, grooms himself much better than he does.
So he pores over the table with a rather resolute and determined look on his face, sucking on the tanghulu he’s holding in one hand and sifting through the many options of combs in the other. The inn maid that accompanies him offers some suggestions, but ultimately the choice falls upon the young fox spirit himself.
And Shen Jiu is so immersed in his selection, that he almost misses the soft voice calling for him from behind.
“Xiao Jiu?”
Shen Jiu jumps, wondering if his Bing-gege is already back so soon.
But when he turns his head, with enthusiasm and glee that he usually takes care to conceal, he comes face to face with a boy that, albeit is around Bing-gege’s age, is not the person he actually wants to see the most.
The exuberance on his face instantly melts away. Shen Jiu doesn’t care for a stranger.
Plus, with the boy dressed in such black, xuanduan style robes, there’s an air of nobility surrounding him that immediately leads Shen Jiu to distrust him. The smile on the boy’s face is unwavering, although it does look abnormally tight, like he’s holding back a dam of emotions that’d threaten to burst forth otherwise. Shen Jiu doesn’t care to think too deeply into it.
After all, he’s just a stranger.
A stranger that seems to know his name; which already raises huge red flags on its own.
“Xiao Jiu, are you well?” The boy asks, his gaze flickering back and forth between the inn maid and Shen Jiu, trying to understand the young fox spirit’s situation. The sight is akin to a wealthy heir taking a light stroll with his servant, and very baffling for the boy, to say the least. “Are you with family? Are you eating well?”
“Who are you?” Shen Jiu asks, eyeing the boy warily. He pulls the tanghulu out of his mouth, still licking the sugary sweetness on his lips. “How do you know my name?”
The boy’s eyes widen in shock, like he hadn’t expected such a thing. “You…” don’t remember. “Do you not know who I am?”
The distaste on Shen Jiu’s face magnifies. “No? Am I expected to?”
The venom in his tone pierces the boy’s heart like no other. “Xiao Jiu, I—I’m your… Qi—”
And then a shadowy figure swoops in, before the boy ever gets the chance.
“Bing-gege!” Shen Jiu cries out excitedly, just as Luo Binghe lifts him right into his arms.
Luo Binghe cradles Shen Jiu to his chest, like he’s never held anything so precious. He turns Shen Jiu to the side, facing him away from who he immediately recognises to be Yue Qingyuan.
Yue Qingyuan’s face pales quickly in response, when he puts two and two together and realises exactly who he’s dealing with.
In their previous lives, he’d been older, richer, perhaps even more powerful in rank. In this life, Luo Binghe’s not that much younger than him, and even looks comparably powerful—that is, in strength—as well. As Luo Binghe raises his head back towards Yue Qingyuan, he even grows smug at the realisation that he towers just that few inches over his old zhangmen-shibo, fate having decided to give him just that bit of an edge in this timeline.
“Y...You,” Yue Qingyuan’s voice trembles out in despair, still haunted by the ghastly memory of Shen Qingqiu’s severed legs accompanying a blood-stained letter. “You’re back…”
“Luo Binghe,” Luo Binghe introduces himself coolly, like he’s never seen this man before in his life. “Who are you, and what do you want with my A-Jiu?”
At this, Yue Qingyuan lets out a manic laugh, in pure disbelief. “I should be asking you the same question…”
Shen Jiu lifts his small head, his lips puckering up to whisper into Luo Binghe’s ear. “Bing-gege, I think he’s a bit creepy, but I don’t think he was going to abduct me, like the others.”
“Hm,” Luo Binghe says, maintaining a firm look of suspicion. “We can’t be too sure. We need to be on our guard.”
Shen Jiu sighs, but nods anyway. “Mn.” He understands. They’ve been embroiled in too many fights for his Bing-gege to trust any stranger off the bat. Besides, this stranger knew of Shen Jiu’s name, so at the very least—he had to be a stalker of some sort.
Turning his head back to Yue Qingyuan, Shen Jiu informs the older boy, rather stiff-lipped, “Gege, we are not unjust people, and if you will leave us in peace, then we will not pursue this matter with you any further. I do not know how you know of my name, but if you promise not to harm me, my Bing-gege will not take action against you.” And you should be wary of my Bing-gege taking such action, goes unsaid.
Yue Qingyuan looks like he’s on the verge of losing it at this point, unable to reconcile the sight before him with what had transpired in their former lifetime. What’s worse—what’s worse is that Xiao Jiu looks so happy, being cradled in Luo Binghe’s arms, in ways that Yue Qingyuan never got to do so, for him. Yue Qingyuan has regrets. Yue Qingyuan has a ton of regrets. And he’d thought this new life would have been his second chance at fixing things, and so he’d spent all this time exerting a huge amount of effort trying to hunt down the fox spirit he once knew; but when he finally found him…
“Xiao… Xiao Jiu, you… you’re truly happy with this man?” Yue Qingyuan questions, with much horror.
Shen Jiu sighs again, wondering what is up with this gege. “Yes, I’m happy. I’m very happy with my Bing-gege.”
His Bing-gege. Luo Binghe clutches Shen Jiu that much closer, that much tighter; his head raised that much higher with utmost pride.
Yue Qingyuan hesitates, then asks again, “You trust him?”
“Mn.”
“He treats you well?”
Shen Jiu squints his eyes, then answers again, “Mn.”
Yue Qingyuan eyes the expensive-looking crown in Shen Jiu’s hair, and the thick cloak that he’s wearing. The small huli jing looks far more majestic than he’s ever seen him—back when he’d first met him as a babe from the streets, in their former lifetime.
If Luo Binghe was truly ill-treating his Xiao Jiu, then it certainly didn’t look like it.
(...Spoiling him, more like.)
Perhaps Luo Binghe was telling the truth, and didn’t recognise him? Perhaps the Luo Binghe of this lifetime had a change of heart, or had grown up differently, and in a rather ironic twist of events—had come to truly love and care for his ex-shizun that he’d stumbled upon by fate?
Yue Qingyuan’s attention returns to Luo Binghe. “You…” He begins, with a conflicted look on his face. “What is Xiao Jiu to you?”
Luo Binghe stiffens. He owes no one an explanation as to his relationship with Shen Jiu, much less Yue Qingyuan of all people. But seeing as the man might prove relentless in his efforts to take Shen Jiu back if not appeased, Luo Binghe will indulge him—just this once.
“My A-Jiu,” Luo Binghe pointedly corrects, with a hand caressing past Shen Jiu’s hair, scratching lazily at Shen Jiu’s fox ears. Shen Jiu suppresses—a very satisfied—purr, leaning into his Bing-gege’s touches. “Is my life. I would die for him. With him. Make sure he wants for nothing in this life. Never betray him. Always come back for him.” He’s almost sneering at the last part, making sure to enunciate it for emphasis.
Because that’s more than Yue Qingyuan had ever done for Shen Jiu.
“I see,” Yue Qingyuan says, with a lowered head and slumped shoulders. “Then, that’s all I can ever ask for.”
“Gege,” Shen Jiu looks at him, with much pity. “Please just go.”
Yue Qingyuan casts one last look at him, reluctant, and nods. He takes a step, pauses, then decides to turn to Shen Jiu again.
“I’m glad you’re not hiding your ears and tails, this time round,” Yue Qingyuan says, so softly Shen Jiu has to strain his ears to pick up on it. “You should always have been proud of them.”
Shen Jiu blinks. “I am.”
Yue Qingyuan smiles, bitterly. “Good.”
And then he takes his leave, knowing Shen Jiu would be much better off without him in this life.
Because it’d been him in the first place, who told Xiao Jiu it’d been a sign of weakness; to hide his huli jing nature from everyone else, if he wanted to survive.
(Xiao Jiu always listened to him, for better or for worse.)
Shen Jiu doesn’t know why, but it feels like a whole weight is off his chest the minute Yue Qingyuan is out of sight.
“Bing-gege, put me down,” Shen Jiu says, wriggling his small butt in Luo Binghe’s hold. “I can walk on my own.”
Luo Binghe tightens his grip, all the more. “No. If I put you down, you’ll get kidnapped again.”
Shen Jiu shoots him a glare. “I was never kidnapped!”
“Almost,” Luo Binghe insists, booping his shizun’s nose with a finger. “I thought I could leave you on your own for an afternoon, but it seems not. You’re lucky that I had a gut feeling you were going to get into trouble the minute I left, and came back to find you of my own accord. From now on, I’m never letting you roam the streets without me again.”
Shen Jiu’s glare grows hot. “But you’re never around! If Bing-gege is never around, then that means A-Jiu will never get to go out!”
“Yes.”
“How is that fair?! I’m like a prisoner!”
“How are you a prisoner?” Luo Binghe playfully pokes at the crown in his hair. “Do prisoners get to wear such luxurious things, and stay in lavish inns?”
“I cannot be bought!” Shen Jiu huffs, folding his arms. “And I happen to like nice things! And Bing-gege is dumb enough to offer them all to me! That’s all!”
“Alright, then I guess A-Jiu doesn’t need ‘nice things’ anymore,” Luo Binghe says, taking away the tanghulu Shen Jiu’s hand still clings onto. “If A-Jiu doesn’t need nice things, then we’ll just stay in abandoned wooden sheds, and I won’t have to work so hard trying to earn enough to fund A-Jiu’s excessive lifestyle anymore.”
Shen Jiu whimpers the moment the hard candy is taken away from him, and he eyes the tanghulu mournfully from afar, but ultimately still asks, “If we stop living in inns, and I stop eating tanghulus, then Bing-gege can be around more often?”
Luo Binghe pretends to contemplate hard over this. “Mm.”
Shen Jiu hides his sulk, putting forth his best, convincing nod. “Then I don’t need any of those. I just want Bing-gege around more.”
...Luo Binghe’s never heard a sweeter thing in his life. It completely takes his breath away.
“Shi… Shizun,” it escapes Luo Binghe’s lips in an entranced daze. “Do you… really mean that?”
He had only been teasing Shen Jiu prior, of course; he wasn’t actually going to stop pampering his young shizun and putting him up at inns and feeding him whatever he so wanted.
But to know his shizun was willing to forsake his comfort all just to have him around him a bit more…
Oh, Luo Binghe will never love another again.
“Who’s your shizun?” Shen Jiu furrows his brows, questioning. He hardly even knows what it means, at this juncture. “What’s a shizun? Bing-gege, why do you like to call A-Jiu ‘shizun’?”
Luo Binghe looks at Shen Jiu, his smile bright. “Shizun should have been more honest, before… You would have been much cuter. Like now.”
Shen Jiu sulks harder. “I don’t want to be cute. And stop ignoring my questions!”
“But you are,” Luo Binghe squeezes him, rubbing his cheeks against Shen Jiu’s. “I like A-Jiu the best, like this, so honest.”
“Hey! Stop answering me selectively,” Shen Jiu says, but Luo Binghe ignores him again anyway, bouncing Shen Jiu in his grasp. “We’re not done talking about you taking me as your prisoner!”
“What are you talking about? A-Jiu likes being taken prisoner.” In more ways than one, Luo Bingge thinks.
(Luo Binghe! This is a child! He’s literally still a child!)
“Fine! Whatever. If I’m going to be your prisoner, then can I at least have my tanghulu back?”
Luo Binghe erupts with laughter. “Mm.” He hands the tanghulu back to Shen Jiu, who immediately sticks it back into his mouth with much annoyance. “It seems A-Jiu can be bought, after all.”
“Think whatever you want!”
“Mm,” Luo Binghe chuckles. He turns back to face the stall Shen Jiu had been eyeing before the whole altercation with Yue Qingyuan had begun, and asks, “Did you want a new comb for yourself?”
“No,” Shen Jiu sniffs, refusing to let Luo Binghe know he’d been looking for one for him. “I don’t want one anymore.”
“Hm,” Luo Binghe says. “Alright. Did you want to look at anything else on these streets?”
Shen Jiu eyes him carefully. “Don’t you have to go to the village for work today?”
“I can go in a bit,” Luo Binghe cheekily answers. “I’ve more or less wrapped things up for them. I’m more worried about leaving you alone here.”
“I have the inn maid!”
“She’s great,” Luo Binghe nods to her, as a courtesy. “But she’s not going to be able to gouge out the eyes of any man that touches you.”
“Why is it always gouging eyes or tongue with you?” Shen Jiu wonders. “Bing-gege, has anybody told you that you have homicidal behaviour?”
Luo Binghe grins. “I thought A-Jiu liked his Bing-gege homicidal.”
“Whatever,” Shen Jiu responds, his go-to whenever he knows Luo Binghe’s won his end of the argument. He gazes into the distance, trying to decide what else he wants to see. “I want to go look at some fans, next.”
“Then we’ll go look at some fans,” Luo Binghe says, beginning to make a move. “Do you want one like the ladies at the brothel?”
“Mn. They’re pretty,” Shen Jiu says, as a matter-of-factly.
“Then we’ll get the prettiest one,” Luo Binghe smiles to him, his heart warm.
Their travels do slow down eventually, and they do settle on a nice enough place to stay at. Shen Jiu chooses his favourite town, based on how nice the brothel jiejies are and how easy it would be for him to access his sweets, while Luo Binghe evaluates it based on how kind the civilians are and how safe it would be for Shen Jiu to roam about alone. He also surveys the surroundings of the town, finds a nice spot right next to the lake and forest, and decides the fengshui is good enough there for them to make permanent residence at. He also fully intends for them to be self-sufficient when it comes to their sustenance in the long-run, and the lake nearby would provide an endless supply of fish—Luo Binghe had made sure to check it was clear of monsters—and the fertile soil from the ground would be great for a small farm he hopes to grow, that would provide them whatever fruits and vegetables they’d need.
So Luo Binghe puts Shen Jiu up at an inn for the very last time, as he sets out to work building a nice home for them both. Shen Jiu can’t seem to leave him alone, though, adamant on helping his gege. As Luo Binghe goes about cutting down trees and chopping up firewood, the young fox spirit can be seen hurriedly transporting whatever materials his Bing-gege needs from the town to their would-be house, and back and forth, and back and forth. He bargains in the local market for things such as hammers and nails, and with much effort piles them all up in his tiny arms so he can deliver them safely to where Bing-gege works by the lake.
Such a sight endears them incredibly to the townsfolk, who agree that Luo Binghe is the best brother they’ve seen, to go to such lengths for his younger sibling, and that they can only hope their children turn out like these two, who must have been orphaned by both their parents at such a young age, these poor things.
(Luo Binghe scoffs at what he hears, but doesn’t bother correcting them. They’ll just be surprised when Shen Jiu finally turns of age—sixteen, Luo Binghe has decided—and Luo Binghe is able to take him as his bride, officially, for real.)
Meanwhile, Shen Jiu notices the stares the women in town are already giving his Bing-gege, and glares heatedly at whoever dares. With such a fierce huli jing guarding him at all times, no one dares approach Bing-gege with ulterior motives, not wanting to scar such a cute, young boy by flirting with his brother right in the open.
They’re a week into building the house and almost done, and Shen Jiu’s just on the outskirts of town, right at the very edge of the forest, having just finished another quick run to town to garner more materials for his gege; when he trips right over an elevated lump on the ground in the middle of a wide clearing and falls right flat over, dropping all the heavy firewood in his arms.
He’s rubbing at his bruised forehead rather sorely, yowling quietly in pain, his ears and tails folding around him protectively to assuage some of the ache he’s feeling. He only gives himself a minute or so to wallow in it though, knowing he has to be back on his feet and back by Bing-gege’s side as soon as he can so they can get their house done and then Shen Jiu can live properly with him, side by side, forever.
That’s when he first hears the horse.
The animal pulls to an abrupt stop right before him with a loud neigh, its hooves raised high up in the air as the haughty young master that saddles him... begins to view the young fox spirit lying on the ground before him with much interest.
Looks like Shen Jiu has caught the attention of another one of those again.
“Well, well, well. Look what we have here.”
Shen Jiu can detect the young master’s malicious intent, so clear, so plain as day. So unlike the kindness on his Bing-gege’s face the very first time they’d met.
The fox spirit scrambles to his feet immediately, knowing right away in his gut that he needs to leave and leave now.
But the young master is already hopping off his horse, dressed richly in a violet gown, with a pitch-black whip in hand, ready to put it to good use should the new fancy object of his eye run away.
“Where are you going, little one?” He laughs out loud, his voice so foreboding and so cunning. “I only want to make friends.”
Shen Jiu halts in his steps, his back turned to the young master, suppressing a shiver.
He knows he can’t outrun this man. Shen Jiu’s cultivation is still low, and of the pacifist sort. Luo Binghe had been reluctant to teach him any fighting techniques as of yet, so Shen Jiu’s not even sure he can adequately defend himself. If worse comes to worst, Shen Jiu thinks, he could always use his sharp claws and teeth to fatally injure the taller, older man.
“My gege is waiting for me,” Shen Jiu tells him quietly, just so the young master knows there’s someone waiting for him.
Bing-gege will gouge your eyes out!
The young master walks over to him, circling him slowly until he’s eventually face to face with Shen Jiu.
His dark piercing pupils held the most evil Shen Jiu had ever seen. Dread gnaws at his insides, with such rabid, instinctual fear that Shen Jiu wonders if he’d ever been terrorised by this same man in another life.
“What a pretty thing,” the young master coos, extending a hand out to cup at Shen Jiu’s jaw. “Skin as white as snow, cheeks as red as a rose. You’re the first huli jing I’ve ever seen. Tell me, is your gege like you, too?”
Shen Jiu feels utterly violated by that filthy stare and those depraved words, in ways he doesn’t even understand at his tender age. “No.”
“Then, I won’t have any use for him,” the young master grins, eager arms wrapping around Shen Jiu so the fox cannot possibly escape him. “You, on the other hand, I’d quite like to take with me as a gift. Haitang will take such a liking to you. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you… too much.”
Shen Jiu goes absolutely feral. He begins kicking and screaming in the man’s arms, sinking his fangs into his shoulder and clawing into his chest. The young master scoffs, and simply raises his black whip as a warning, his pupils dilating rather sinisterly.
“Don’t you dare, or I will be forced to tame you,” he hisses, striking such fear in Shen Jiu the fox spirit momentarily goes quiet, not even daring to move, every single strand of hair on his body standing up in shrill terror.
And then—because Shen Jiu is still a child, at the end of the day, no matter how much he denies it—in a complete state of panic and helplessness, and at how absolutely frightening and fear-inducing the sight of that whip is, Shen Jiu’s eyes begin swelling and turning red, and he begins to bawl, harder than he’s ever done in his life, screeching out, “Bing-gege! Bing-gege! Save me!”, his screams so loud they resound throughout the empty forest.
A sudden gust of wind, a quick rustling of old trees, and Qiu Jianluo doesn’t even see what hits him when he’s punched to the ground, the wind knocked completely out of him, Shen Jiu being removed from his hold and carried into the arms of his rightful gege.
“Qiu Jianluo,” Luo Binghe grits his teeth, saying, knowing all too well who this man is from Shen Jiu’s old memories. Looks like his shizun’s past has finally caught up with them. “How dare you.”
It takes a good minute for Qiu Jianluo to regain his bearings, but when he does, he’s still rather hot-headed and full of spite.
“You know me?” Qiu Jianluo questions from where he’s lying on the ground, through bloodied teeth and blackened eyes. “Well, I’m not surprised. If you know me, then you know I have the power to make—”
“I’m not interested in having a conversation with you,” Luo Binghe tells him, shielding Shen Jiu’s teary face away. He strokes past his shizun’s hair, soothing and calming him down from his crying fit. “But since you’re here, then I’ll ask you one simple question. Do you live in this town?”
Qiu Jianluo spits out a loose tooth, and blood. “I live in the next town. I’m just passing by.”
That’s already too close for comfort. “Thank you,” Luo Binghe says, already making plans for tonight. In order for him to live comfortably in this life with his shizun, with no disturbances whatsoever, such pests from his shizun’s past need to be eradicated. It’s unfortunate that Qiu Haitang will be a casualty in this, but what his shizun doesn’t know will not hurt him. Shen Jiu never developed a bond with Qiu Haitang in this life. He won’t need to bear any guilt, or pain.
Qiu Jianluo’s a couple of years older than Luo Binghe, but even he knows he can’t possibly defeat the boy standing before him when he displays such—insane strength and… hatred? For him? Despite meeting him for the very first time?
He knows what he’s looking at. It’s the sort of hatred that spans lifetimes.
Qiu Jianluo, despite his pride, knows he needs to go.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Luo Binghe’s voice crackles like thunder, when he sees the man attempting to drag himself across the ground, back to his horse. “You dared to hurt my A-Jiu. You don’t think I know the sort of things you were thinking about doing to him? You don’t think I know your kind all too well?” Because I was you, once. “He’s just a fucking child.”
“I was… wrong,” Qiu Jianluo forces himself to say, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get any mercy otherwise. “I got excited, because I’ve never seen a huli jing. I simply wanted to gift him to my sister as a playmate, so please…”
“And then, what? Enslave him for your own use? Order him to come to your bedroom at night? Make him commit the kind of acts you can’t speak to your mother about? Are you a human, or a demon? Do you even have a conscience?”
Shen Jiu snivels into Luo Binghe’s chest, chills running down his spine at the thought of being made to do such despicable things under the control of someone else. To be enslaved by someone like this? Shen Jiu would rather die…
Qiu Jianluo continues pleading, “Please, I was wrong. Just let me go, my sister needs me…”
Luo Binghe snorts, then lowers his voice so it’s much softer, much kinder when he talks to Shen Jiu. “A-Jiu, do you want to let this man go? Do you think he deserves to be taught a lesson for taking things that aren’t his?”
Shen Jiu sniffs. He has calmed down quite a bit now, immensely comforted simply by being in Luo Binghe’s arms. “I think... he deserves to be taught a lesson.”
“What lesson?”
Shen Jiu’s emerald green eyes harden, from where he lies against Luo Binghe’s chest, as he strains his gaze to look down at where Qiu Jianluo miserably lies on the ground.
“Death.”
He doesn’t know why, but he wants to make this particular young master pay.
The corners of Luo Binghe’s lips tug up into a grin.
So much for “homicidal tendencies”. His shizun is one and the same.
“No, no, no, please, I won’t do it again, I’ll give you whatever you want, I’m rich! I’ll give you gold, silver, houses, please, think of my sister—”
“A-Jiu,” Luo Binghe sets his young shizun back down onto the ground, squatting to his level and patting him on the head with a rather fondful look on his face. “Head on back, first. I’ve already started a small fire, so you can begin roasting the meat I’ve already skewered.”
“Mn.”
“When I’m done, I’ll come back with some suitable fertiliser for our growing crops,” Luo Binghe says.
Shen Jiu’s lips curl. “Mn.”
“I won’t be long.”
“Don’t be,” Shen Jiu tells him, patting him right back on the head. “I won’t start eating until you’re back. Don’t be late for our afternoon meal together, I’ll get hungry.”
“Mm,” Luo Binghe answers, his heart throbbing in his chest. His shizun is always so cute, telling him what to do. “Run along, now.”
And so, Shen Jiu does. He runs along, and never looks back. Even as the woeful pleas behind him morph into excruciating screams, praying for release, pleading for benevolence, begging for any form of sympathy.
But, well, Qiu Jianluo isn’t a good man.
Shen Jiu has no sympathy for those who seek to hurt him.
And Shen Jiu is so glad his Bing-gege is here, in this life, to seek justice for him.
Their house gets fixed up, their crops grow well, and they settle into a domestic mundanity that is most welcomed. Luo Binghe gets up early every morning to tend to the chickens and the rest of their farm, while boiling some porridge on the stove for breakfast, just in time for when Shen Jiu finally rises. After they have breakfast together, then it becomes time for Shen Jiu to begin tending to their crops, while Luo Binghe goes off to fish or hunt for what will be their dinner. Sometimes, when they have excess harvest, Shen Jiu goes into town to sell it by the side of the streets. They’re often sold finished before midday—the townsfolk are very fond of their A-Jiu and his charming, responsible gege. This is due in part to Luo Binghe often exterminating demons in the area, most primarily motivated by wanting to keep his shizun safe; thanks to his efforts, the town labels Luo Binghe their very own cultivator and protector.
Shen Jiu grows up well. Even though he’s never received a formal education, Luo Binghe sits him down during their free time and teaches him how to read and write, and Shen Jiu proves to be a voracious reader, often buying up books from street sellers when they’re able to afford it. As he grows a bit older, Luo Binghe teaches him self-defense techniques as well, and expands the basic cultivation methods he’d taught him prior. It’s nothing too major—Luo Binghe still doesn’t want to encourage any unnecessary lofty ambitions, not when it’s not needed, in this lifetime when they’re so happy in this small wooden hut of their own—but what little that he does teach does help with Shen Jiu’s growth, and that’s all he needs for now.
Sometimes Luo Binghe still partakes in the occasional night hunt or mission; whether to scratch an itch, improve his cultivation or to earn more coins to spoil A-Jiu with. During those times, Shen Jiu often spends time at the local brothel, singing and dancing and playing with the brothel jiejies and learning much tips and tricks from them.
(“We’re not siblings,” Shen Jiu had made clear to them, when asked about his relations with Luo Binghe. “And I don’t wish for Bing-gege to view me as such, either.”
“Oh?” They’d asked back, so enthused. “Well then, our pretty little jiu-mei, when you’re a bit older, we’ll teach you just what you need so he doesn’t view you as such. But for now, why not learn how to dance your way into a man’s heart?”
And so Shen Jiu picks up a notable talent or two, training his flexibility and learning how to be graceful in every of his movements, knowing how to turn on his charms and purse his lips just right and bat his eyelashes so no one will ever refuse whatever he asks for, as taught to him by his jiejies.)
Luo Binghe grows into a fine, young man himself. He sheds his boyish looks as he grows in and out of adolescence, gaining a much more masculine, much more chiselled jawline, filling out more broadly around the shoulders, growing so built and so tall he easily towers over most folks in town; by the time he reaches an appropriate and marriageable age—seventeen, the average for civilians around here—many of the townsfolk eye him as a good candidate for their younger, unwed daughters, hoping to gain him as a son-in-law of their own.
Not that Luo Binghe is interested, though. He has gained a reputation for being overly devoted to that younger—and prettier—huli jing didi of his, the one that barks and bites you if you ever look at Luo Binghe too closely.
However, it still doesn’t stop young maidens from stopping by Luo Binghe and Shen Jiu’s little hut near the forest, often hoping to catch Luo Binghe alone so they can introduce themselves and strike up a conversation with the young, charming bachelor.
Luo Binghe doesn’t reciprocate their affections, but that doesn’t mean he can’t bask in them. They are beautiful maidens, and besides, Luo Binghe is just a hot-blooded man. He does entertain them every now and then, speaking to them head-on with a confident grin, telling them he doesn’t have any time to fool around with a girl when his beloved A-Jiu needs him so.
(He thanks the lords he does not have Xin Mo in this universe, for his sexual appetite would have been insatiable otherwise. For that reason alone, he does not plan to seek Xin Mo out. He doesn’t need to be any ruler of any universe. He doesn’t want to betray his shizun in any way possible, either. When his shizun is of age, and they are finally ready, then they’ll be able to experience their first times together, and make such passionate love, and it will be glorious. Luo Binghe cannot wait for such a day.)
Until then, however, Luo Binghe is speaking to one such maiden as he—very shirtlessly—plows the land near their hut, leaning against his hoe, sweat dripping down his burning face and neck under the hot morning sun. His long hair has been neatly tied back into a low and loose ponytail, and has the maiden all starry-eyed as she takes in his lean chest muscles, his throbbing biceps, and his cocky smile.
Luo Binghe has seen the maiden around town; another spoilt, wealthy young mistress to her family’s fortune. She rather reminds him of one of his ex-wives, Qin Wanyue, in both looks and demeanour. But while her fortune is tempting, Luo Binghe’s already had it all once, and it’d done nothing for him.
Like clockwork though, Shen Jiu returns back from the market by noon. Dressed in a bamboo hat and long flowy green robes, he’s a rather picturesque sight, with a small skip in his steps as he makes his way back home. But when he’s rudely greeted by the sight of another maiden flirting with his Bing-gege right out in the open, he’s instantly hurrying angrily back to Luo Binghe’s side, not even bothering to hide the anger in his rush, glaring at the girl like she’s a pest that needs to be done away with.
Shen Jiu immediately steps in between them, still carrying his basket full of goods on his one hand, and clings on to Luo Binghe’s arm like a jealous concubine.
“Thank you for keeping my Bing-gege company while I was away,” Shen Jiu says oh so sweetly, with so much poison trickling out from his voice, like the maiden speaking to Luo Binghe is just something he has allowed in his absence. “You may leave, now.”
Of course, the young mistress takes great offence to this. “You’re not all that, huli jing.”
Shen Jiu’s green eyes burn, and he seethes out, “Trying to insult me?”
“A-Jiu,” Luo Binghe says, barely able to contain his smugness. His shizun’s never subtle when he gets into his jealous fits. “We were just finishing up our conversation. She was just telling me about her ten nieces and nephews. A huge family, this one.”
“My family’s very fertile,” the young mistress winks. “I could give you many children. Perfect for such an outstanding man such as yourself!”
Shen Jiu’s mood drastically sours, even more so than usual. He bares his teeth, and raises his claws. “Scram!”
The young mistress flees, not confident in her ability to take on the likes of a huli jing.
Once they’re without company, Shen Jiu steps aside from Luo Binghe, loosening his hold on the man. He’s in a foul mood, made all the worse by the young mistress’ last words.
As Shen Jiu stalks back to their house, enraged, Luo Binghe sighs and tosses aside his hoe, knowing he’ll have to give chase and pacify his shizun now. As Shen Jiu grows older, his temper gets more and more… short. Shen Jiu is a fuse always waiting to blow out.
Shen Jiu sets the basket down onto the table in the kitchen, removes his bamboo hat, and begins preparing lunch.
Luo Binghe tumbles in after him, hoping his shizun will see reason today.
“A-Jiu,” he starts.
“Don’t,” Shen Jiu cuts him off. “While I was busy toiling away at the market, Bing-gege apparently found time again to have fun with some pretty girls.”
“Not pretty,” Luo Binghe shakes his head, insisting. “Not as pretty as A-Jiu.”
Shen Jiu’s ears perk up happily at his words, but he subdues them again a second later, scoffing, “What a silver tongue.”
“You can’t take what she said to heart,” Luo Binghe says. “You know you’re prettier than all of the girls in town.”
“What use is beauty,” Shen Jiu sarcastically says, with much bite. “When I cannot bear you children?”
Huh, they’ve never spoken about this before.
For all purposes of maintaining a semblance of normalcy in their relationship, they hadn’t ever expressed romantic inclinations of any sort to each other, not directly, and especially not from Luo Binghe. For as debauched as he may be, and despite already deciding that his shizun is it for him in this lifetime—he knows his limits as well, and expressing interest in his shizun, as young as he currently is, doesn’t sit right with him, for he’s supposed to be Shen Jiu’s caretaker and a trusty confidant… for now.
It appears his young shizun has already made up his mind about what he wants to be, and where he wants to stand, with Luo Binghe, though.
(Luo Binghe is not blind. He knows Shen Jiu has grown attached to him, the way a maiden would to a gege that has taken care of him all her life, and he knows the boundaries between them have become exceedingly blurry. It was never brotherhood, no, not when Shen Jiu still curls up to him in bed every night, only being able to sink into sleep once he feels his Bing-gege’s breath against his cheek and his arms around Shen Jiu’s slender torso. Shen Jiu is greedy, and he wants and wants, and Luo Binghe wants as well, but he doesn’t want to rush Shen Jiu into this, he wants to do it right in this life. Everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong in their former lifetime, and in this one—Luo Binghe wants to make it right.
They have to fall in love right. His shizun has to come to him right.
Perhaps Luo Binghe had been presumptuous on some counts, for he’d never planned for Shen Jiu growing up and changing his mind about him. But he’d never had to fear for such a thing happening, not when Shen Jiu looks at him like Bing-gege is his whole world, like he’s the only one worthy of Shen Jiu’s kindness.
The same way Luo Binghe thinks the absolute world of his young shizun; the same way Shen Jiu has saved him in this lifetime with his own kindness.)
“You are thinking,” Luo Binghe breathes out, incredulous. “Of bearing me children?”
It’s at that moment that Shen Jiu bites his tongue, wishing to swallow it whole. “Nevermind.”
Luo Binghe’s almost vibrating from the happiness coursing through him. “You want a family?”
Shen Jiu throws the question back at him. “Do you want a family?”
Luo Binghe’s excited to answer. “Yes. Not now—but yes. In the future. When I’m ready. When you—”
“So I guess you’ll be marrying a girl,” Shen Jiu interrupts him, stiffly, his stricken face looking so disheartened. “As expected. No wonder you’ve been making your rounds with all the fair maidens in town.”
So this is the source of his contempt. “I don’t need to marry a maiden to have a family.”
“Well, they’re the only ones who can give you children!” Shen Jiu hisses out, hatefully.
It seems his shizun, innocent as he still is, is not aware of the all-mystifying, reproductive abilities of a huli jing, regardless of sex. The fault is on Luo Binghe; he’s the one that keeps strict tabs on the sort of books Shen Jiu peruses, determined to filter anything too inappropriate and sexual out, at the cusp of his adolescence.
“You are capable of more than you think,” Luo Binghe says, his tongue tied. He doesn’t know how deep he wants to go into huli jing lore—at this point in Shen Jiu’s life. Plus, there’s something else that Shen Jiu had failed to consider, as well. “And, well… I’m not the man that you think I am.”
Shen Jiu stills, as he pulls out a loaf of bread from the basket. “What do you mean?”
Luo Binghe hadn’t thought of revealing his demon heritage to Shen Jiu so soon, out of some lingering trauma and fear from his past life—although logically, there really isn’t a reason for A-Jiu to reject him, not when Shen Jiu embraces so openly his huli jing nature in this life—but he decides now is a better time than never.
“I’m not… I’m not human,” Luo Binghe tells him.
Shen Jiu exhales out loudly, like he’d expected something far worse. “Oh.”
Luo Binghe stares at him. “Oh?” He’s almost offended. He’d been bracing himself for a far worse reaction. Explosive, even.
“Well, I’m not surprised,” Shen Jiu says, hardly batting an eye. “Are you a demon?”
Luo Binghe hums. “Half.”
“Oh,” Shen Jiu says again, pulling out salted slices of meat from the basket this time. “Half like me, then.”
He’d expected his shizun to be much more receptive to his demon heritage this time round, but he didn’t realise it would be this much. “You’re not angry I lied to you? You don’t consider this a betrayal? You wouldn’t… So, if you ever got the chance, you wouldn’t cast me out, because of it?”
Shen Jiu had formerly done so, after all.
“What betrayal?” Shen Jiu asks. “What cast you out? Am I supposed to hold it against you? That’s stupid. I’d be a hypocrite if I did.”
God knows why, but Luo Binghe feels a ball rising to the back of his throat. Ah. He hadn’t realised how much being accepted by his shizun, for who he really was, meant this much…
“Besides, I suspected as much,” Shen Jiu continues, going about preparing their afternoon meal like nothing is wrong. “You always seemed far too blood-thirsty for a human.”
Luo Binghe wrinkles his nose. “Blood-thirsty?”
“Homicidal,” Shen Jiu corrects. “I don’t think humans usually have this great of an appetite for torture.”
Luo Binghe thinks back on Qiu Jianluo, and says, “You’d be surprised.”
“Well, I can imagine,” Shen Jiu says. “I’ve met my fair share of people wanting to hurt me.”
Luo Binghe’s gaze softens. “I’ve made sure they never get the chance to.”
Shen Jiu’s lips twitch. “I know.”
A beat of silence, and then Shen Jiu returns to the topic at hand. “What does being a half-demon have to do with having children? Unless you think such logic doesn’t apply to our race.”
Luo Binghe rolls his eyes, smiling. “Well, anything can happen in the demon realm. Beyond just a demon, I’m half a Heavenly Demon. That means I’m capable of impossible things. Things beyond your wildest dreams.”
Shen Jiu pauses, quickly getting the message. His ears tint red. “I see.”
“You’re still too young to talk about it,” Luo Binghe says. “But will you stop getting mad at me for talking to the young mistresses that come our way?”
“No,” Shen Jiu huffs. “You can just turn them away.”
Luo Binghe laughs. “Alright, I’ll turn them away, if that will make you happy. Starting from today, okay?”
“Fine. Whatever,” Shen Jiu says. But his mood significantly improves, and the crease between his brows goes away. “You really don’t plan to marry a young, spoilt mistress and have her live with us?”
Luo Binghe grins. “A-Jiu, why would I do that? I already have plans for us.”
And then Shen Jiu gets so embarrassed, he just drops the subject. “Mn.”
“Mm,” Luo Binghe hums back.
They don’t speak any further on the subject, but they seem to reach a consensus that day: that this life with each other is permanent, that this home they’ve built is permanent, that both of them want no one else but the other.
They don’t talk about love. That’s embarrassing.
But deep into the night, Shen Jiu crawls that much closer into Luo Binghe’s arms, and whines for a forehead kiss goodnight.
Luo Binghe obliges. His love and attention is reserved for his shizun, and only his shizun.
They don’t remember their birthdays. Luo Binghe got fished out of a river, while Shen Jiu’s been on the streets for as long as he can remember. They’ve never had a day to call their own. Luo Binghe never minded it; only children cared about birthdays, and he’s long outgrown any whimsical desires of that sort. He’s not even sure demons celebrate such things back in their realm. But Shen Jiu spends a great deal of time in town, and soon becomes very acclimatised to more modern human ways and practices. He sees the boys and girls celebrating with toys and candy on the street, and gets it into his head that he wants to celebrate such a thing for Bing-gege.
When Luo Binghe tells him he doesn’t have a birthday, Shen Jiu asks him to make up a day, to “choose the most important day of your life”, and Luo Binghe decides it has to be the day he met A-Jiu.
Since Shen Jiu also doesn’t have a birthday, Luo Binghe proposes they share a birthday.
Shen Jiu’s eyes had lit up even before he could remember to dull their shine away.
“Let’s grow old together, Bing-gege,” Shen Jiu told him, wearing a rare, shy smile on his face.
And so they begin celebrating their birthdays together.
Today is another one of those birthdays. They’re dressed in their best. Shen Jiu in his favourite green robes, even an exquisite crown in his hair, something he’d been gifted by the brothel jiejies that dote on him so. Luo Binghe, in what fancy dark robes Shen Jiu manages to sew for him. It’s always Shen Jiu who’s fussing over Luo Binghe’s presentation, his hair, his outfit. He spends a good hour or so brushing the knots out of his hair, making sure Luo Binghe’s curls fall beautifully down his back.
Shen Jiu skips out on heading out to the market this morning, and spends all day decorating the house haphazardly with any sort of ornaments he can fish out, even if they’re not necessarily right for the occasion. Cute animal-shaped lanterns and red celebratory banners adorn the front of their home. Meanwhile, Luo Binghe busies himself with whipping up a grand, extravagant meal for the both of them, making sure to cook all of Shen Jiu’s favourites, and then the mandatory long noodles and peaches for prosperity and good luck—because he’d always been the better cook. Shen Jiu sets the table, and readies their gifts by the side.
It’s his favourite day of the year. Rather than celebrating their birthday, it feels like it’s celebrating the anniversary of when they met. And that means way more to Shen Jiu, much more sentimental and way more poignant, than any notion of some “birthday”.
They sit down and have their meal together, each one fighting to drop more food into each other’s rice bowls. They don’t stop until Luo Binghe is forced to take his first bite, and only then does Shen Jiu eat. (Because the elders have to eat first, Shen Jiu tells him. You only have yourself to blame for being so old!)
It’s ultimate bliss, for both of them.
“To another year together,” Luo Binghe wishes out loud, raising his wine cup up high. His eyes are full of love when he looks across to his young shizun. “Happy birthday, A-Jiu.”
“Happy birthday, gege,” Shen Jiu squeaks out in reply, cheeks uncharacteristically flushing. Then he guzzles his cup of water down, and averts his gaze, unwilling to exhibit his overflowing look of happiness.
What Shen Jiu is most excited for, afterwards, is the exchanging of gifts.
The both of them don’t have an excessive lifestyle—they live within their means, and pretty much grow and hunt most of what they eat. Luo Binghe does set aside a small allowance for Shen Jiu every month, from what they earn from the market and the night-hunts, giving him just enough to indulge in sweets and new clothing as he pleases, but other than the occasional tanghulu, Shen Jiu mostly saves it up for special occasions such as this. Most recently, he’d ordered for a craftsman in town to do up a jade pendant necklace as a present, having overheard some young maidens in town discussing amongst themselves on what to gift their significant others for an upcoming occasion and how giving their beaus something to wear and remember them by was the “way to go”. Shen Jiu, who had zero experience in gift-giving, decided to heed such wise words of advice.
He’d asked his brothel jiejies what they recommended, and they’d said that jade would go well with Luo Binghe’s skin.
So Shen Jiu had ordered such a thing; a token of his love that had been months in the making. It’d cost him a good amount too, about three months worth of full allowance. But Shen Jiu was relatively pleased at how great the pendant turned out, and held no complaints at all. (The craftsman was made all too clear that the quick-tempered huli jing would terrorise him, otherwise.)
“Your gift,” Shen Jiu says to Luo Binghe when it’s time, passing to him a small, silken green pouch.
Luo Binghe hands to him a sealed box at the same time, significantly larger in size than Shen Jiu’s gift to him. “And yours.”
Shen Jiu tries not to look too flustered as he receives his present into his hands. He waits until Luo Binghe is loosening the ribbon on his pouch, before Shen Jiu unseals the box before him.
He comes into sight with a lovely white fan with intricate bamboo detail, graceful brush strokes littering each fold. Luo Binghe had even signed Shen Jiu’s name at the very bottommost corner, in cursive writing, “For A-Jiu”.
Shen Jiu warmly grasps the fan, unable to contain the way his heart skips a beat at such a heartfelt gift. It must have taken Luo Binghe a while to craft this.
“You painted this yourself?” Shen Jiu asks softly, wondering how Luo Binghe ever found the time. They spend almost every second together. Luo Binghe must have done it out in the fields, or whenever Shen Jiu left to go into town.
“Yes,” Luo Binghe answers, smiling broadly as he lifts his own gift right out of the pouch. He startles at what he finds, remembrance flashing within his very eyes. “Ah…”
He hadn’t expected to receive a jade pendant, again, in this life.
Shen Jiu raises his gaze anxiously, his heart stuttering. He’d expected a way more gleeful reaction. “Do you—do you not like it?”
“No, it’s, it’s beautiful,” Luo Binghe murmurs, hastening to alleviate Shen Jiu’s fears. He’s sure much planning and coin must have gone into this. “It’s… exactly what I wanted.” It’s exactly what he’d lost before. Except the jade his shizun had chosen and gifted to him was much higher in quality, of course, not the cheap, fake jade his adoptive mother had been swindled to buy. His shizun was way too smart for that. And luckily for that.
His past had a really strange way of catching up with him.
“Here, let me put it on for you,” Shen Jiu hurriedly says, wanting to see it around Luo Binghe’s neck more than anything. He sets the fan aside, and moves to Luo Binghe’s side. Taking the necklace into his fingers, he nimbly loops the red thin thread over Luo Binghe’s head, making sure it hangs securely down his neck.
It looks great against Luo Binghe’s skin, just like the brothel jiejies had suggested.
“Thank you,” Luo Binghe says to him, fingering the jade pendant lying on his chest. “I’ll make sure to take great care of it.” And not lose it, like the way I did before as a foolish child.
“You better!” Shen Jiu warns, looking extra pleased with himself for such a gift. “You’re not allowed to take it off. I went to great lengths to prepare this for you.”
“Oh,” Luo Binghe breathes, astonished by the sweetness, the genuine affections, that slips out of Shen Jiu every now and then. As his shizun grows older, it seems he grows much sweeter on Luo Binghe, as well. “I promise you, it’ll never come off.”
“Good,” Shen Jiu hums.
Luo Binghe glances at the fan he’s set aside. “Do you like your gift?”
Shen Jiu moves back to pick the fan up. He’d almost forgotten about it, in his haste. “Yes, of course. Bing-gege is a really great painter. You’re a natural.” And he means it, he really does. It’s a very thoughtful gift, and one that Shen Jiu will use and cherish with all of his heart.
Luo Binghe’s eyes twinkle. “I know you like to use one when you’re dancing with the ladies at the brothel. So, I thought I’d gift you one, specially made by me.”
Shen Jiu snaps open the fan, and raises it to hide the lower half of his face. How convenient, he thinks. “I really like it. It suits me.”
“You always liked your bamboo trees,” Luo Binghe teases. Then, getting bold, he asks, “If you like it so much, how about a kiss on the cheek? Can I get a bonus present?”
If this had been any other Shen Qingqiu, he’d have gotten whacked right on the head with the fan.
But because this is his A-Jiu, Shen Jiu only huffs, scoots over, lowers his face, and plants his lips to Luo Binghe’s cheek.
“Happy birthday, Bing-gege,” Shen Jiu murmurs, as he draws back from Luo Binghe’s face, turning pink.
Only his A-Jiu would indulge him so.
“A-Jiu,” Luo Binghe grins, pulling Shen Jiu into his arms and embracing him tight. He just couldn’t resist. Not when his shizun looked so cute. He scratches at his ears, and tells him, “You really shouldn’t do as I say, everytime. Don’t you know how dangerous that is? I’ll only become greedier and greedier in time, and take awful advantage of you.”
Shen Jiu sniffs. “Bing-gege doesn’t take advantage of me.” He knows a man who does, when he sees one.
“No?”
“No.”
“A-Jiu is very trusting.”
“You’ve never given me reason to doubt you,” Shen Jiu says, rather earnestly. “You’re the only one I trust like this, with my whole heart.”
Luo Binghe’s voice falters. “I am?”
“Yes,” Shen Jiu says, being very brutally honest. “Which is why when I’m older, I hope…”
And he doesn’t continue his sentence, but Luo Binghe knows his every intention.
“I’m really happy with Bing-gege,” he says, quietly, lowering his gaze. “I want to be with him, like this, forever.”
Luo Binghe feels a hot, prickling sensation rise from behind his eyes. He wonders how easily his shizun manages to say these things everytime; wonders just how much he must want it to come true to even have the courage to vocalise it in the first place.
But Luo Binghe feels the exact same.
“Mm,” he utters out hoarsely, swallowing down tears. “Me too.”
“To another year, then,” Shen Jiu flickers his eyes back up at him, bashfully. “To a forever with you.”
“Forever,” Luo Binghe says, squeezing him close. “And ever.”
I love you.