Chapter Text
It was cold in his dark little cell, snow and moonlight drifting in from the window above him. During summer it had been too warm, the air clammy and cloying on his skin, moisture collecting in his lungs and making it hard to breathe. Now however, he found that the days left him cold and the nights left him frozen. At night his breath crystalized in the air, freezing as it touched his face. His fingers turned uncooperative when the temperature dropped, refusing to bend to help the blood flow. His toes turned blue and entered that dangerous stage where they in the end stopped hurting. He knew he was going to die there.
It had been two days since Luo Binghe last visited him. Luo Binghe had been his usual cruel self, dripping poisoned words into his ears as he used his qi to set Shen Qingqiu’s body on fire, mocking him for his broken golden core. Unaware that Shen Qingqiu was hiding away the last slivers of his cultivation to use at the right moment.
The beast had said something vile, referring to the rumors that Shen Qingqiu was a predator, that he preyed on women, and finally, finally, he had found the strength to slap him. With his one available hand, the one not chained to the wall, he had struck him with all his remaining strength and had immediately realized he had fallen right into Luo Binghe’s trap. He had given Luo Binghe the misguided justification to do what he already wanted to do.
Luo Binghe had taken the strike with eerie calmness, merely grabbing his hand before Shen Qingqiu could retrieve it. He held his hand with false gentleness, his fingers running along his palm, tracing the fine lines there. Shen Qingqiu had tried to tug his arm back, but Luo Binghe’s gentle touch had turned into a steel clamp around his wrist. He had uncurled every finger, traced every joint, before he had brough the hand to his lips and given the palm a mocking kiss. Only then had Shen Qingqiu been allowed to take his hand back. Only then had Luo Binghe left.
His touch had been gentle, but the way his eyes had lingered on every knuckle, on every joint from his fingers to his shoulder spoke of future pain. Nothing Luo Binghe did in his presence was whimsical, he acted purely on purpose when he hurt Shen Qingqiu. The kiss had been mocking, had been a last blessing, had been a signal of damnation. Shen Qingqiu knew that once Luo Binghe returned, he would lose his hand, his entire arm, possibly even both.
If he wanted to escape, it was now or never.
-
He had been imprisoned for almost a year following the sham of a trial he had refused to entertain. With the sect’s reputation and existence in jeopardy he had pleaded guilty immediately, refusing to let Luo Binghe drag it out and tarnish the sect further than Shen Qingqiu had already done just by existing.
His golden core had been broken, but his spirit had remained whole, if severely beaten. Luo Binghe had cut his hair, had refused him any clothes except a replica of Luo Binghe’s old disciple robes. He had been beaten, tortured, mocked, and humiliated, starved to the brink of death only to be denied release. He knew he deserved so much more than this. He deserved so much less.
With Luo Binghe gone no one had bothered to check if he had been fed, and he would use the neglect to his advantage. The beast had told him he would be gone for at least a week, and the guards usually forgot about Shen Qingqiu for the first few days.
Shen Qingqiu waited in the moonlight, listening intently. Outside his cell he could hear the earthwings sing their nightly tune. The entire castle’s inhabitants were all asleep or in their rooms by the time the earthwings came out of their burrows. Winged and mole-like, the earthwings were remnants of the previous castle lord’s experiments. Luo Binghe and his ilk had eradicated most of the unfortunate beings that had been experimented on, but some still roamed this part of the Demon Realm. Most of them barely survived, but the earthwings thrived, filling the night air with their haunting songs.
Shen Qingqiu listened to them sing as he got to work. The shackles restraining his hand was done so Luo Binghe could enjoy watching Shen Qingqiu stretch as far as he could for food and water placed just out of reach. His hands were almost skeletal, and he rubbed his bony wrist against the sharp edge of the shackle until the blood flowed freely. With his free hand he used the blood as lubrication, smearing it around his restrained hand until it glistened in the moonlight.
Shen Qingqiu took hold of his thumb and took several deep breaths. On the last exhale he pulled on his thumb as hard as he could, whimpering as he felt the ligaments rip. With a last effort he pulled on the hand before it could swell and slipping his hand free with a pained gasp.
There were no guards stationed outside his cell because Luo Binghe was jealous in his revenge. He didn’t want anyone else to see Shen Qingqiu, didn’t want anyone to see how depraved Luo Binghe was when doling out his punishments. Didn’t want anyone to take pity on Shen Qingqiu and granting him release, either by freedom or by death. There were only two demonic guards allowed to feed him when Luo Binghe was away, and both usually forgot about their duties regarding him. He had passed out from hunger more than once while Luo Binghe was away, only to reawake to Luo Binghe force-feeding him broth until he was so full he vomited most of it back up.
The cell was always left unlocked, a stroke of luck for Shen Qingqiu. It was a dark wooden door with a small square window, different from the first cell door that had been made of impenetrable metal and set with locks that were loud as they were turned, to really drive home the point that Shen Qingqiu was trapped in his cell forever. But then, one desperate night, he had come so close to successfully ending his life. In the end Luo Binghe had to slam the door off its hinges to get to him in time, to reverse the damages he had done to himself.
Luo Binghe had spent weeks making sure Shen Qingqiu would never dare to try to take his own life again. Shen Qingqiu had spent weeks pretending to be cowed by the beast.
And now there was an out, a chance of escape. He could have used the sharp shackle to let his blood flow like a river, but there was something in him that wanted to live. Luo Binghe had taken away his desire to end himself, but he hadn’t taken away Shen Qingqiu’s will to escape.
Luo Binghe had become so sure Shen Qingqiu didn’t have the means nor the will to escape that he left the door unlocked. The door was silent as he slowly opened it, as Luo Binghe kept it in perfect condition. Shen Qingqiu assumed it was so Luo Binghe could slip in unnoticed while he slept, hovering over him as he startled awake from a nightmare.
It was a good thing there was no one to watch him slip away, as he had no strength to fight them. It also meant there was no opportunity to get his hands on a sword or warmer clothes. All he had was himself. It would have to be enough.
He made his way through the abandoned prison, walking quickly but silently, making sure there would be n guards suddenly appearing. It was dark and damp and moldy, and Shen Qingqiu couldn’t wait to get out of there, but when he finally reached the door leading to the outside he hesitated. He opened it cautiously and was immediately knocked back by the howling wind. There was a snowstorm outside, the wind howling around him, bringing in heaps of snow from outside for every moment he kept the door open.
With substantial effort he managed to close the door, leaning back against it in exhaustion. He looked down at his bare feet, his toes pink, verging on blue. There was nothing to do about it, his only chance of escape was through that door.
With trembling hands he reached down and tore the bottom of his robe into strips. One strip he tied around his still bleeding wrist, the others he tied around his feet. It wouldn’t be enough to keep his feet from sustaining injuries if he stayed outside too long, but it was better than nothing. The cloth would also be protection against any sharp rocks he might step on. Even if he was so cold he couldn’t feel his feet, it would be best not to injure himself more than he had to.
With his feet wrapped up he pulled the door wide open and escaped into the night. The first steps were the worst, his body begging him to turn back as he waded through the knee-deep snow. He pulled his head down, bracing against the wind as he followed the castle walls until he reached the side closest to the nearby forest.
There was no one in sight on the grounds, the snow left unmarked by any passing guard. Shen Qingqiu risked a glance upwards, seeing no one standing on top of the castle walls. He scoffed to himself. Luo Binghe’s soldiers had become complacent as Luo Binghe’s powers had grown, his reach and his influence enough for them to think no one would dare attack them. It was a stupid mistake, one that could cost them dearly, but it worked in his favor. If no one was watching for intruders, no one was watching for anyone escaping either.
He dashed across the snowy field and slipped into the dark forest, tucking his aching hands into his armpits to preserve his fingers. If he was lucky no one would notice he was gone until the snow had covered his tracks completely. It could buy him time to cross the border to the western kingdom, one he knew Luo Binghe still didn’t have control over. Luo Binghe had promised to take him there once he conquered it, to take him swimming in the sulfuric hot springs in the west. He was sure it was more drowning than swimming that Luo Binghe planned for him to do. Or perhaps he was just going to throw him in and watch him desperately swim back as his skin peeled off. Whatever Luo Binghe had planned it wouldn’t have been pleasant.
As he stomped through the snow, now only reaching midcalf thanks to the shelter of the trees, he preferred this to be his end. If it came to it he preferred dying in the snow, knowing he died alone and by his own choice, and not dying by Luo Binghe’s hand, by Luo Binghe’s will.
An unseen root hooked over his foot and he stumbled, slamming into a tree. Alarm ran through him when he realized neither the stumbling nor the slam had been painful. The moon shone through the treetops, its position revealing that half the night had passed since his escape. He had made decent progress in his escape, but it was taking its toll on his body. Since he couldn’t feel most of his body he would soon have to find shelter, somewhere to hide. The border was a few days away in this weather, but while the storm was a hinder to him, it would also hinder any pursuers.
Trudging on, he was careful as he walked on through the forest. He might not feel a sprain or a cut, but a broken leg would be hard to ignore. His breath froze as it left his mouth, the moisture on his skin already forming a hard layer on his face. His eyes stung in the cold, and when he rubbed one eye he felt the unpleasant sensation of his eyelashes breaking.
Shen Qingqiu trudged on, and at the edge of the forest he looked around, the storm making it hard to find the mountain range he would have to navigate by. A lull in the wind allowed him to see the white mountain top, closer than he expected. If the mountain was on the right it meant the river would be on the left, and he was precisely where he needed to be, if his knowledge was correct. All he had to base his escape on was Luo Binghe’s bragging and the memory of a map he had once glanced at more than a five years ago.
A mountain usually meant caves, or at the very least an overhang he could hide underneath. It would take some time, but if he angled his direction right it would not eat into his estimated window of escape too much. If he reached the bend of the mountain it would allow him cover from any view from the forest in the morning, if the storm subsided enough for anyone to see more than a few feet in front of them.
His movements were slow, the snow almost waist high now that he no longer had the cover of the trees. His muscles refused to lift his legs high enough, fast enough. Still, he persisted. He stumbled and fell, foot catching on nothing or something he couldn’t feel. The snow threatened to cover him immediately as he struggled to get up, his arms not cooperating with him as he clawed his way up from the snow.
Somewhere along the way his body had gone from trembling to straight up shaking, and shakes were so hard they were threatening to knock him off his feet again. He kept his eyes on the mountain, even as his mind drifted to far better places. He was no longer somewhere in the freezing Demon Realm, he was back at his peak. He was safe and warm, sitting underneath the bamboo trees on a warm summer day, conversing with Liu Qingge. His mind replayed the last part. That wasn’t right. Liu Qingge was-, he was-.
It was getting too warm, and he tugged on his robe. The tug made him stumble and he fell again, falling into the warmth. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice was shouting for him to get up and the shouting continued until he listened, until he got back up, his back now to the mountain. The shouting was replaced by a loud rumble, threatening to drown out the conversation he was having.
It was too loud, what was it? With a start and a frisson of fear he turned around, knowing what he was about to see. A wall of white was rushing down the mountain, enveloping trees and pulling them with it.
Shen Qingqiu only had a moment to close his mouth and clench his teeth before the wall hit him, sweeping him with it as it continued on its way to the river. He was tossed around like he was nothing, as he tried to swim to the surface without knowing which way was up. The roaring continued around him as he was knocked around, unable to do more than try to move.
Something collided with his ribs, and even the cold couldn’t prevent the pain that stabbed through his chest. His scream was smothered by the roaring snow, drowning out any sound he made.
The avalanche slowed down as it reached the river, and halfway through it came to a stop. He dug his way out of the snow with his last strength, gasping as he breached the surface. The snow gave way underneath him as he crawled along it and slid down, unable to stop himself from falling into the icy water.
The water immediately pulled him down, forcibly tugging him along and dragging him down to the bottom. The rushing river tore at him, throwing him around as hard as the avalanche had done. He struggled to reach the surface and just as he did he slammed into a rock. With heaving breath he clung to it until the river took hold of him again, pulling him along. The turbulent water threatened to pull him down again but he struggled, swimming more like a creature than a man, movements desperate and frantic.
He had almost nothing left to give when he was slammed into another rock, but this time the water pushed him around the rock towards the riverbank. It was enough to let him reach for another rock, and his frozen fingers closer around an edge, allowing him to pull himself into a calmer part of the river. Solid ground was underneath his feet and he limped forward, supporting himself on the various rocks. He crawled as far as he could, pulling himself halfway out of the water.
He had nothing left to give, no spare reserve of strength hidden within him. He would die there like a drowned animal, frozen to death by the elements. Tears formed in his eyes, freezing solid as soon as they trailed down his face. His robe was growing stiff, along with his body. But he didn’t want to die there, even if it was better than dying by Luo Binghe’s hand.
Desperate to live, he lifted one pale blue hand. He bit into the fleshy part at the base of his thumb, tearing into the skin. Blood flowed sluggishly to the surface, and he hastened to dip into it. He used it as ink to write a spell on his chest, calling for strength and protection, for warmth and survival. To activate it he used the last remnant of his cultivation, the last pieces of cultivation Luo Binghe hadn’t been able to detect nor destroy. The activation of the spell pulled everything he had from him, casting him into oblivion as he was engulfed in light.
-
An unknown time later, Shen Qingqiu woke up. On all fours he crawled out of his stiff robes and stretched before shaking himself. He ambled away on massive paws, gait unsure but growing steadier with each step. Ears forward and tail low, he turned towards the direction of the border.