Chapter Text
Luo Binghe was idly scrolling through the latest novel rankings, searching for something—anything—worth reading.
Coiling Sea Serpent? Sounds like a rip-off.
Venerable Lunacy? Too edgy.
I Shall Heal The Heavens? Hmm. Maybe.
I've Been Reincarnated as The Demon Queen's Stepbrother? ...Yikes.
He sighed deeply, slumping further into his chair. Was there really nothing else?
As a big fan of wuxia and xianxia, Luo Binghe had already read and reread every decent cultivation novel he could find. He craved intricate world-building, deep lores, and complex power systems.
Unfortunately, 80% of novels in the genre were just shallow male power-fantasy, harem garbage!
See, here's another one.
Proud Immortal Demon Way? Luo Binghe scoffed, rolling his eyes.
The summary read like yet another cliché stallion novel dumpster fire. Except...
The MC has the same name as me?
Luo Binghe raised an eyebrow. His name was uncommon—maybe even considered unusual. He had never seen anyone else with it, yet here was the main character sharing his name. Curious, he clicked on the first chapter.
...
The more he read, the more irritated he became.
"Is the author stalking me?" Luo Binghe squinted, glancing around cautiously. The MC's looks, his mannerisms—they! were! exactly! the same!
But what the hell was with this pathetic white lotus personality?!?
If anything, Luo Binghe liked the master, Shen Qingqiu, more!
Cunning, ruthless, and handsome. Shen Qingqiu was exactly the type of character Luo Binghe preferred. A cold, aloof immortal who delivered punishment without hesitation. A powerful cultivator who wasn't above cheating and fighting dirty to win.
So what if he poured tea on the MC? It could've been way worse!
To a seasoned reader like Luo Binghe, that kind of cruelty was just part of the cultivation world.
Even though the MC pissed him off, Luo Binghe couldn't stop reading. He powered through just to get to Shen Qingqiu’s scenes.
Oh, Shen Qingqiu.
He was written like the typical scum villain, but Luo Binghe knew there was more beneath the surface.
I can't wait to get to his backstory! Luo Binghe thought with naive enthusiasm.
Then, he realized he hadn’t checked the comments yet.
He regretted it immediately.
"These commenters are so cringe!" Luo Binghe criticised aloud.
Especially that Peerless Cucumber!
"That's right, Master Shen, beat up that fake-ass brat! The rest of you, don’t bring your modern sensibilities into this time period!" Luo Binghe furiously typed.
Soon, he found himself going back to the first chapter’s comments section, leaving essay after essay, working his way through each chapter.
**
"Fuck you, Cucumber Bro! Come meet me IRL and I'll castrate you!" Luo Binghe, aka Unyielding Pillar, fired back at Peerless Cucumber’s hate comment about Shen Qingqiu.
Within a few days, Luo Binghe had seamlessly integrated himself in the PIDW fandom.
He had quickly become infamous as the villain’s biggest, if not only, fan, proudly wearing the "Shen Qingqiu’s lawyer and #1 apologist" tag.
Some readers eagerly anticipated his comments with every new chapter, especially when he argued with Peerless Cucumber, the #1 Shen Qingqiu hater, and Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, the author.
- Hahaha! Unyielding Pillar, Peerless Cucumber, and Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky? Are we sure they aren't part of the same comedy troupe?
- Maybe I'll change my username to Golden Spear Unbent (ᵔ́∀ᵔ̀)
- I don't even follow this story. I just eat popcorn while reading the comments!
The discussions were lively and full of laughter. The fandom was active, which kept Proud Immortal Demon Way consistently at the top of the rankings.
But alas, every feast has its final course.
"AIRPLANE, WHAT THE FUCK?!" Luo Binghe roared in anger.
Last update, his beloved Shen Qingqiu had his limbs severed and was kept in a medicinal pot. So why was this new chapter all about a new wife plot?!
Isn’t this transition too sudden? We're moving on from the scum villain just like that?
"Where's the rest of Shen Qingqiu's backstory??? Airplane, you better not leave your house!"
- Author’s note: Thank you, my dear grandaddies, for all your support! Our Binghe’s vengeance has come to an end. Next up, will he be able to save the sweet little Meimei? Stay tuned!
Luo Binghe’s eye twitched violently as he read this shitty author’s note. It didn't even mention Shen Qingqiu!
His heart pounded, and he could feel the pressure building in his temples. The edges of his vision began to blur. His breathing grew erratic as his rage spiked, thoughts of revenge swirling in his mind.
"Stupid author! Stupid novel!"
Before he could utter another word, his vision darkened and everything went black.
**
In the endless darkness, a mechanical voice sounded in Luo Binghe's ear.
[Activation code: "Stupid author, stupid novel." System automatically triggered.]
[Welcome to the System! This system operates under the concept: "The customer is king, and so is the protagonist!" We aim to provide you with the best possible experience. It is our sincere wish that, during your journey, you fulfill your desires and transform a stupid work into a high-quality, magnificent, first-rate classic. Enjoy!]
Shit, did I have a stroke? Luo Binghe groaned inwardly as he opened his eyes.
He was kneeling on the floor, and in front of him stood the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
[System successfully activated! Role bound: Luo Binghe, the protagonist of this world! Starting B-points: one hundred.]
Ha? Luo Binghe blinked, dumbfounded. He replied in his thoughts, "Wh-what the hell are you saying? Am I really in Proud Immortal Demon Way? That shitty novel?!"
[Correct! Please note that as the plot progresses, many different types of points will gradually become available.]
Luo Binghe wanted to bury his face in his hands. What the hell. He really transmigrated!
He was about to curse the System and Airplane's entire lineage when he remembered he wasn’t alone.
Luo Binghe glanced up again. The living work of art before him was holding a cup of hot tea, gazing down at him with unbridled disdain.
Wait... if this is PIDW, then could this be... His lips curled into an odd smile.
Shen Qingqiu!
Wowow. He's gorgeous! I knew he would be. Luo Binghe thought with pride. Ah, this must be the tea-pouring scene. Oh well. It is what it is.
He closed his eyes, bracing for impact.
[As expected of the main character, you adapt quickly!] the System lampooned.
Meanwhile, Shen Qingqiu paused, unnerved.
What the hell?
Just seconds ago, this brat Luo Binghe had been trembling like a frightened lamb.
Now, he had a strange air of confidence about him. Luo Binghe's back was straighter, and he was completely composed. Too composed.
Shen Qingqiu was going to dump the tea on him, but...
His sharp eyes caught Luo Binghe's lips curling ever so slightly.
Like he was happy and excited.
...
Weird! This kid is weird! Shen Qingqiu immediately assessed.
Furrowing his brows, he set the cup of tea aside.
Thirty seconds of silence passed, then a minute.
Hm?
Wondering why he hasn't been scalded yet, Luo Binghe cautiously opened his eyes.
He instantly blushed when he saw Shen Qingqiu staring straight at him.
Luo Binghe then tilted his head with a confused expression, as if cutely asking, 'Why aren't you pouring tea on me?'
Shen Qingqiu's eye twitched. Had he picked up a masochist? Maybe he should've let Liu Qingge take this little beast to Bai Zhan Peak after all.
Feeling the onset of a headache, Shen Qingqiu snapped open his fan and brought it closer to his face.
"You’re dismissed. Get out," he ordered curtly.
Ah?
Luo Binghe was speechless.
Wasn’t Shen Qingqiu pouring hot tea on him supposed to be a canon event? Why did it change? Is this really PIDW? System!!
[...]
The System was also speechless.
Sighing inwardly, Luo Binghe had no choice but to stand up.
He glanced at the tea, then at Shen Qingqiu, and back again, as if pleading, 'Please pour this tea on me!'
But Shen Qingqiu merely glared at him.
"Erm, as you wish, Sh... Shizun," Luo Binghe stammered, bowing awkwardly. He wasn’t used to the honorific "Shizun" yet and felt like a kid with 8th Grade Syndrome.
As he walked away, he could still feel Shen Qingqiu’s sharp gaze on his back, warily observing him. Outside, Ming Fan was waiting and led him to the disciple dormitory.
**
Luo Binghe lay on the bed, contemplating what had gone wrong.
"System! Do you have a function to replay scenes?"
[Yes, dear protagonist ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ You may spend 10 B-points to replay a scene.]
"Okay. Replay the scene with Shen Qingqiu from earlier."
The scene played in Luo Binghe’s mind like an HD movie.
He could recall the moment easily, but he wanted to see the full picture—just in case he missed anything. Altering a canon event this early was concerning, so he wanted to study it closely.
...Or at least, that was what he was supposed to do.
Ahhh, he's really my favorite character, Luo Binghe sighed dreamily. He had been staring at Shen Qingqiu’s face for the past ten minutes.
The original MC was such a loser. Imagine chasing after anyone else when this beauty is right here! Shen Qingqiu, my beloved. You. Will. Be. Mine.
I'll save you from your doomed narrative! To hell with the plot!
[??? WARNING: Out of Character! OOC! OOC!]
"Shut the fuck up! I don't care!"
Notes:
Coughs. Freeing this from my drafts is the gift. I really wanted to finish my two other ongoing fics before publishing this, but alas I didn't make it time (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)
Referenced cultivation novels are: Coiling Dragon, Reverend Insanity, and I Shall Seal The Heavens. They're all very good classic xianxia! The 4th one is made up, but it wouldn't surprise me if it did exist out there.
No, Shen Yuan will not be in this story. Maybe a bonus chapter where this pair and Bingyuan meet. I'm still half-half about SQH.
Chapter Text
Luo Binghe rapped his fingers on the wooden table in the shared dining area.
Hmmm, now what? he pondered, pulling out a manual from his sleeve.
Despite the significant change to a canon event like the tea-spilling scene, in the end, Shen Qingqiu still handed him the faulty manual.
"Good morning, Shizun~ What's this? A gift for me?" Luo Binghe greeted in a sing-song tone. He clasped his hands together under his chin, tilting his head slightly.
Shen Qingqiu clicked his tongue, tossing the manual towards him with a rough flick of the wrist, which Luo Binghe caught effortlessly. "You could say that."
"Wow! Shizun is truly magnanimous! This disciple is grateful for your kindness." Luo Binghe dropped into a deep bow, his aura practically glowing. If one squinted, they might even see hearts and stars radiating from his form.
"Hmph." Shen Qingqiu swatted away a floating heart with his fan as he opened it with a snap, sneering, "Make sure to study it well."
"Binghe will do as you command," Luo Binghe said obediently. However, after Shen Qingqiu was out of sight, his grip tightened on the manual until it crumpled, his expression dark.
Oh, Shen Qingqiu, you just can't help yourself, huh?
Luo Binghe skimmed through the manual, amused. A twisted grin spread across his face when he confirmed that following its instructions would only bring him harm.
Two senior disciples carrying trays of food scanned the room for open seats. When they approached Luo Binghe's table and saw his expression, they quickly turned and sat elsewhere.
"Hehehe."
That shitty Airplane had gotten at least one thing right about him: Luo Binghe was indeed the type to pay everything back tenfold. Whether kindness or cruelty, he'll pay it all back!
Even if that someone was his beloved—or rather, especially if it was his beloved!
The tea pouring scene was an exception, as it was caused by that wannabe white lotus. But now, Shen Qingqiu's actions were aimed directly at him—the OG! A battle of wits, a test of endurance, a contest of wills between two formidable men.
A trial of fate, a clash of destiny.
True to his scum villain nature, Shen Qingqiu would stop at nothing to undermine Luo Binghe, sabotaging him at every turn. Meanwhile, Luo Binghe was determined to make the scum villain his. The only question was: who would break first?
The challenge ahead filled Luo Binghe with glee.
How shall I punish Qingqiu for this? he mused, chuckling mischievously as he swung his legs with excitement.
…
Nearby, the two senior disciples exchanged nervous glances, lowering their voices.
"Is our new shidi… mentally ill? He’s laughing all by himself."
"Aiya, Shizun’s harsh lessons haven’t even started yet, and he’s already losing it…"
BAM!
They flinched and turned to see another martial brother stepping up to the new kid, slamming his fist onto the table in front of him.
"So you're the mutt stinking up our peak, eh?" sneered the type of cannon fodder character not even worth a name. He crossed his arms, looking down at Luo Binghe with a smirk. "Now, be a good dog and give up this table to your esteemed seniors."
Yikes. The young master cliché? Boring! Luo Binghe rolled his eyes. Only Shen Qingqiu looks cute sneering.
He ignored the young master and continued eating until one of the lackeys, who had blended into the background until now, harshly swiped Luo Binghe's bowl, spilling its contents onto him. "You dare ignore your shixiong?!"
Ah. They're so dead. Luo Binghe glared at the two of them as he got up, brushing the food off himself. His sudden death glare made the older disciples shudder, a sense of danger prickling in their minds. But there was no way they would back down, especially against such a scrawny brat.
"Shixiong, what do you want, you bastard?" Luo Binghe asked with a smile. His tone was so polite you’d almost think you misheard the insult.
Gasps rippled through the disciples who overheard him. But the young master only chuckled. "As expected! No manners at all. Don’t worry, Ming-shixiong will sort you out later. I’m just here to soften you up, make things easier for him."
The other lackey chimed in, "Yeah, come with us to the training courtyard. We'll beat—I mean, teach the lessons into you."
Luo Binghe glanced around the cafeteria, as if giving everyone one last chance to intervene. When no one did, he shrugged.
"No thanks. I still have to 'study' the manual Shizun gave me," he said, making air quotes around the word study.
"A desperate attempt to suck up to Shizun?" the young master grinned mockingly. "Let me see that," he said, reaching out to snatch the manual. But before he could blink, Luo Binghe had moved—grappling him in a smooth twist, coiling his body around the young master's arm, applying just enough pressure to threaten a break.
"What the f—" the lackey started. He stepped closer to attack but...
"Stay right there, or I'll tear his arm off," Luo Binghe darkly threatened, pulling the young master's arm with his entire body, making the older disciple scream.
"SHIT. HE'S SERIOUS! BACK OFF!" the young master yelled to the lackey, pure panic in his voice. Why can't I break free from this runt?!
Luo Binghe grinned, seeing everyone's horrified expressions.
Suddenly, a familiar notification sound played in his head.
[Warning! Out of Character! The white lotus Luo Binghe would not display such thug-like behavior towards his senior martial brothers! Cease and desist or you will receive punishment!]
Luo Binghe blinked innocently. "But wouldn't the readers think I look really cool right now?" he replied in his mind.
[...]
[That's—]
"Isn't the protagonist's coolness factor what matters the most?"
[The protagonist is correct but... continuity error! Luo Binghe would not have the skills to do this. Fix this situation or there will be consequences!]
"I'll fix this alright, just shut up and watch!" Luo Binghe's grin widened as he twisted his body, breaking the young master's arm anyway before separating and giving him a solid kick to the back, aiming dangerously near his spine.
"You little shit! Just wait till Ming-shixiong gets here!" the lackey yelled as he lunged towards Luo Binghe. "You're courting death!"
But Luo Binghe swiftly dodged, leaping onto the table and landing a sharp punch to the lackey's chin, knocking him out cold.
He grabbed the unconscious martial brother by his robes and tossed him over the young master, who was cradling his broken arm. The lackey's limp body crashed into him with a heavy thud, sending both of them sprawling to the floor.
Standing tall on the table, Luo Binghe looked around at everyone.
"Yo suckers don't be BUGGIN," Luo Binghe declared loudly. The commotion had already drawn the cafeteria’s attention when the young master slammed his fist on the table. Now, all eyes were on him, utterly confused and bewildered.
?? What the hell is he saying?!
"I am Luo Binghe and I came FROM THE STREETS!" he continued. "Don't mess with me, or else!" Luo Binghe pointed a finger across the entire room before dragging his thumb slowly across his neck—giving everyone a mental image of blade slicing through flesh. The room fell silent as they swallowed involuntarily.
Similarly, the System was also silenced.
[...]
[Disciples nearby—whether they viewed you favorably or not—were left in awe. Protagonist's coolness level: +100 B-points.]
Hehe. Luo Binghe had long figured out that plot and continuity didn't matter. This shitty novel, "Proud Immortal Demon Way", had only one singular goal. Every word written served a single purpose: coolness!
He was basking in his victory when a cold, unruffled voice cut through the tension.
"And what is going on here?"
Heads turned towards the entrance, revealing none other than their master, Shen Qingqiu!
His presence was a godsend for everyone in the hall.
"Shizun!!" they all shouted, their voices pleading for help.
It was rare for Shen Qingqiu to dine in the cafeteria—he much preferred the quiet of his bamboo house. So why was he here today?
A glance at Ming Fan and Ning Yingying at his side provided the answer: Shimei must have invited him. What impeccable timing!
Shen Qingqiu withdrew his fan from his sleeve and pointed it straight at Luo Binghe, who was awkwardly climbing down from the table. "I won’t repeat myself. Explain."
"It’s nothing worth your attention, Shizun." Luo Binghe clasped his fist and bowed. "Shixiong was merely helping me with some training and had an accident."
The disciples around him exchanged incredulous glances.
Such a bold-faced lie! Shameless!
But Luo Binghe didn't stop there. "Oh nyooo, Shizun," he exaggeratedly whined, his expression hovering between false sincerity and mischief, "the precious manual you gave me got ruined!"
Everyone except Shen Qingqiu blinked in confusion. "What manual? What's he on about?" an onlooker mumbled.
Just then, Luo Binghe stepped over to the senior disciples, nudging them aside with his foot to reveal a torn manual beneath their bodies.
A renewed sense of fear gripped the crowd. When did he put that there?!
As if reading their thoughts, Luo Binghe, pleased with his own quick thinking, answered to himself, I tore it while that cannon fodder was yapping and slipped it under after grappling him.
"Is that so?" Shen Qingqiu arched an eyebrow, surveying the scene.
Ming Fan clenched his fists, unable to bear this nonsense any longer. "You runt! How dare you lie to Shizun?!" he blurted out. It was obvious even to him what had really happened.
Luo Binghe shrugged nonchalantly. "I believe Shizun will judge fairly." He glanced pointedly at the manual and then at Shen Qingqiu, as if daring him, So? Do I pass the test?
Seeing such a cheeky response, Shen Qingqiu seethed deep down. Yet beneath that irritation, there was a hint of intrigue.
Despite the insolence in his words, Luo Binghe’s eyes shone with devotion, as if saying, Did I do well? Praise me! Praise me!
...
Really too weird, Shen Qingqiu concluded, his first impression of the boy deepening.
This Luo Binghe was brash, confident, and surprisingly clever. He had the kind of talent and attitude Shen Qingqiu wanted to crush.
Normally, he’d have him tied up and beaten. The thought lingered for a moment, a familiar temptation, but...
Such a punishment wouldn’t suit him.
Shen Qingqiu’s gaze flicked to Luo Binghe, calculating.
"The youngest disciple is right," he said finally, his tone as indifferent as ever. "This isn’t worth my time. Ming Fan, I’ll be returning to my quarters. Bring my meal there."
"What, no! Shizun, I wanted us to eat together!" Ning Yingying protested, but Shen Qingqiu merely patted her head before turning to leave.
"Very well, Shizun," Ming Fan replied promptly, bowing his head. He quickly headed to the food counter, casting a glare at Luo Binghe and the two disciples still sprawled on the floor.
Luo Binghe felt a wave of relief begin to settle—until—
"Oh, by the way," Shen Qingqiu's voice rang out as he paused near the exit, turning his head back towards the room. The disciples held their breath, awaiting his words. "Luo Binghe, since your manual was destroyed and your senior martial brothers' lessons were a failure, I will teach you myself. Come to the bamboo house later today."
...
Huh? HUUUUH??
Everyone in the dining area nearly fell out of their seats.
What the—? Was the world ending??
P-private lessons? With their antisocial, avoidant, lofty immortal master, Shen Qingqiu?!
All heads whipped toward Luo Binghe, their mouths agape.
But even more shocked than them was the protagonist himself. Luo Binghe’s eyes went wide as plates, his heart practically leaping from his chest.
Seeing that wild troublemaker so stunned, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but let out a soft, unexpected snort ("Shizun laughed? No way!"), followed by a smirk. This surprised everyone again. They had never even seen their shifu smile before! Luo Binghe blushed from head to toe, suddenly grateful for the System so he could replay that moment later.
With that, Shen Qingqiu made his graceful exit.
After Ming Fan left with Shen Qingqiu's meal and the commotion eased, Luo Binghe slumped to the floor, laughing.
He knew full well that Shen Qingqiu meant the arrangement as a veiled threat. There was no doubt he would be given hell later.
But still...
Ahh. I love him so much!
Notes:
I've mentioned this in my other fic's A/N but yeah, this took so long coz I got addicted to Lord of the Mysteries and read all 8 volumes during my free time instead of writing hihi.
Don't worry, I do know what's gonna happen in all my fics and how they end. The trouble is transferring them from my head to written word (ᵕ—ᴗ—) thanks for all the comments and kudos, even when it takes a while for new chapters. For the curious, writing plans are on my profile.
Chapter 3: My Shizun, what kind of training is this?!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Ming-shixiong, you said Luo Binghe was like a wounded puppy, but he’s actually a feral stray!" a disciple exclaimed, trailing after Ming Fan. The other lackeys nodded in agreement.
"That little runt dared to trick me?" Ming Fan grit his teeth and clenched his fists. "I’ll deal with him later—"
BOOM!
Something exploded from afar. They all instinctively turned their heads toward the mountain where Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe disappeared to for the private lesson.
"—...if he makes it back in one piece," Ming Fan finished with a sharp grin. The others shuddered, unsure whether to pity their shidi or not.
***
"SYSTEM!!" Luo Binghe called out in his mind, panic threading through his mental voice. He sprinted through the forest, breaths coming in ragged gasps.
[Hello, dear protagonist! How may I assist you? (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ]
"How many times has the Protagonist Halo activated already?"
[The Protagonist Halo has activated a total of three times!]
[WARNING: Any further stress and your demon mark will be unsealed!]
"Fuck you, I knew you’d say that!" Luo Binghe hissed through gritted teeth. He only asked to confirm the obvious—his body felt like it was on the verge of imploding.
"How close is the seal to breaking?"
[The estimated progression is 72%!]
"@#$%!" Luo Binghe cursed, pausing to catch his breath. It's way too early for this! The damn Immortal Alliance Conference and that damn rhino fight weren't supposed to happen for years! If his demon lineage got exposed now, who knew where this garbage story would go?!
But there was no time to dwell on it. A soft, melodic tinkling of bells reached his ears, sending a jolt of adrenaline through him.
Somewhere behind him, Shen Qingqiu's voice rang out, calm and mocking. "What happened to all your toughness, Luo Binghe?"
Luo Binghe’s head snapped around, his gaze darting through the trees. Shen Qingqiu walked at a relaxed pace, no different from a leisurely stroll in a garden. The small bells tied to his waist jingled with each deliberate step.
So hot, but so scary! Luo Binghe groaned, ducking behind a tree. Dirt streaked his face, and his robes were torn and singed from earlier close calls. His arms ached from the impact of his tumble down the mountain terrain—the Protagonist Halo saving his ass from falling off the cliff.
Sure, he knew Shen Qingqiu was gonna give him a bad time, but still! Why the fuck was he tryharding against a literal child?!? AAAAAAAA!!!
The bells jingled closer. No time to think—just run.
"Fuck!" Luo Binghe yelped as a beam of light from Xiu Ya narrowly missed him. At the last second, his foot slipped on a random leaf that had blown into his path—sending him sprawling just in time to avoid the lethal strike.
The beam blasted past his prone figure, striking a boulder ahead. The rock exploded, chunks of stone raining down around him. Luo Binghe lay there for a beat, his heart pounding in his chest.
[The Protagonist Halo has activated for the fourth time! Estimated progression for the Demon Mark Unsealing is 85%!]
"I hope you choke on it!" Luo Binghe grumbled under his breath. His body was in complete agony as he rolled over and lay on his back. Damn it! If he'd known this was going to happen, he never would've agreed to this stupid game!
**
Some hours ago.
Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe hiked up the mountain trail. As a true immortal master, Shen Qingqiu showed no sign of strain—not a single bead of sweat on his perfect face.
Luo Binghe, on the other hand, was a picture of two extremes.
He followed his master up the steep incline, sweat dripping down his face and exhaustion evident in every step. Yet whenever Shen Qingqiu glanced back, Luo Binghe's posture snapped upright, his breathing steady and unbothered. A tireless soldier in top condition.
Shen Qingqiu’s sharp eyes actually caught the act, but said nothing.
Before Luo Binghe’s legs gave out, they reached a clearing nestled in the heart of the forest. Shen Qingqiu allowed for a short break, which Luo Binghe gratefully took.
As he wondered how they might train here, Shen Qingqiu pulled a small bundle of bells from his sleeve. They chimed softly as they swayed.
"Let's play a game, Luo Binghe," Shen Qingqiu said casually, though his gaze carried a distinct edge.
"A game?" Luo Binghe tilted his head, curious.
Shen Qingqiu tersely nodded. "If you manage to snatch these bells from me," he said, holding them up so they gleamed in the light, "I’ll grant you any request."
"Any…?" Luo Binghe's eyes widened, his mind racing with possibilities.
Shen Qingqiu smacked him on the head with his fan. "There should be a limit to your insolence, brat! You think you can take these that easily?"
"No," Luo Binghe admitted, rubbing his head with a sheepish grin. "But I’ll do my best!" His eyes burned with determination.
Shen Qingqiu lightly exhaled through his nose. Without further ado, he tied the bells to his waist. "As long as you can hear them, you’ll know my location," he said, the bells jingling as he secured the knot. "Should make it easier for you, don’t you think? Consider it a favor."
**
Favor, my ass!! Luo Binghe whined internally. He was supposed to be hunting Shen Qingqiu, but the moment the game started, he became the prey!
How was he supposed to formulate a plan when he was too busy running for his life? Shizun, what kind of training is this?!
He groaned in frustration as the cursed bells jingled closer.
Damn you, Shen Qingqiu! Those bells are going to sound so sweet one day! Just you fucking wait!
But for now, he had to think fast. There was no way Shen Qingqiu would just let him get the bells, and there was no chance they’d keep at this until Luo Binghe dropped dead. There had to be another way out.
Fuck, Luo Binghe cursed for the nth time.
Shen Qingqiu stepped into the clearing, the faint jingling of bells announcing his arrival. His brows arched slightly at the sight before him—Luo Binghe, face pressed against the dirt in a deep prostration, arms stretched out with palms open like an animal surrendering.
"Oh?" Shen Qingqiu intoned, his voice laced with mock curiosity.
Luo Binghe flinched. For a hot second, he genuinely wondered if Shen Qingqiu would decide to end him then and there.
But instead, Shen Qingqiu casually sheathed his blade. "Go on," he said, his tone cool and detached.
Luo Binghe gulped, swallowing his pride. He raised his voice, making sure every word was clear and sincere: "This disciple apologizes for beating up his seniors… and for lying about it and the manual. It was wrong, and I won’t do it again."
Shen Qingqiu raised an eyebrow. "That’s it? How boring." He sighed. "If you’re going to grovel, at least make it worth watching." Stepping closer, he fished something out of his sleeve and dropped it into Luo Binghe’s open hands.
Holy shit, that worked! Luo Binghe rejoiced internally, the System supporting him with a congratulatory chime. He resisted the urge to glance at the object, keeping his head low.
"You may get up," Shen Qingqiu said, waving a dismissive hand.
Phew! Luo Binghe exhaled, glancing upward. Shizun, if you're so intent on putting me in my place, at least step on me while you're at it!
[WARNING! Being stepped on will increase the progression for the Demon Mark Unsealing to 93%!]
That doesn't sound so bad, Luo Binghe considered seriously as he scrambled to his feet. In his hands was a new cultivation manual. Quickly flipping through it, he confirmed it was the real deal this time.
"Shizun, thank you!" Luo Binghe bowed, fist to palm in respect.
Shen Qingqiu ignored him, deftly untying the bells from his waist. Luo Binghe’s heart sank as he watched his master tuck them away into his sleeve. A wasted opportunity, he lamented.
Before Luo Binghe could further dwell on his loss, Shen Qingqiu unsheathed Xiu Ya. The blade gleamed as it rose into the air, hovering just beneath his feet.
"Eh?" Luo Binghe blinked. Are we flying down the mountain this time?
His mind instantly spun into a daydream: him clinging to Shen Qingqiu's back, arms wrapped around his waist as they soared through the sky, Shen Qingqiu's hair flowing elegantly in the wind. Or maybe—just maybe—a princess carry, Shen Qingqiu cradling him effortlessly, his master's handsome face framed by the endless sky. Either way, perfection.
Reality slapped him hard when Shen Qingqiu floated upward, his expression as frosty as ever. "You know the way back. Be in the dormitory by curfew," he said sternly.
Ah. Luo Binghe's fantasies of them flying together, blushing and laughing, shattered like cheap porcelain.
Yeah...this is really more like him...
As Shen Qingqiu turned to leave, Luo Binghe’s voice rang out. "Shizun, wait! Shizun!"
Shen Qingqiu halted mid-flight, irritation flashing across his face as he glanced over his shoulder. "What now?" he asked icily. Will this brat dare complain about being left here?
His opinion on Luo Binghe was lowering, but he decided to give him a chance to speak.
To his surprise, the boy clasped his hands together, his face glowing with determination. Taking a deep breath and mustering all the luck and courage he had, Luo Binghe asked, "Shizun… can we do this again sometime?"
For a moment, Shen Qingqiu faltered. He half-turned, his expression unreadable. "This?" he repeated, a bit incredulous. "Are you actually too stupid to understand the gap between us?"
Luo Binghe pouted and quickly straightened his posture. "This disciple understands! Shizun is beyond reach—so far above me you could crush me like an ant. Shizun is the best! But..." He clenched his fists, raising them in defiance. "Even so, I want to keep trying. This disciple doesn’t care how long it takes! I’ll never give up!"
Shen Qingqiu let out a derisive scoff and turned away. Without another word, he urged Xiu Ya forward and shot off, not sparing a single glance back.
"Ahh! Shizun! At least answer me!" Luo Binghe’s whining echoed after him, petulant and persistent. "Is that a yes?? A no?!"
"Let's play again, please!"
"Shizun!!"
Far ahead, Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes. He sighed, Maybe.
**
"Shizun, come back!" Luo Binghe shouted again, but Shen Qingqiu was already long gone.
He casually shrugged his shoulders. Oh well. Next time, then.
Despite miserably losing the game, today wasn’t a total loss. He had received a legit manual from the scum villain himself, and at least one thing was certain: the System wouldn’t let him die or suffer anything too severe.
So, no harm in trying again!
[...]
[Dear protagonist, did you already forget all the cursing you did earlier?]
Hiss, Luo Binghe ignored it and turned his attention back to the task at hand, noting his surroundings.
Shizun said to be back by curfew, but that doesn't mean I have to rush down immediately, he chuckled softly, understanding the hidden meaning in Shen Qingqiu's words.
He glanced at the manual in his hands, the pages soft beneath his fingertips. The sun was still up, the air rich with spiritual energy, and there was river nearby. Plus, the area was part of Cang Qiong Mountain's territory, so there were no threats to worry about.
It was an ideal spot for some rest and cultivation.
Luo Binghe was getting pumped up. Actual cultivation! Real power! Strength!
For a xianxia fanboy like him, it didn’t get any better than this!
Grinning to himself, Luo Binghe flipped open the manual.
"I will get those bells one day!"
Notes:
I think about this fic and future scenes for this fic a lot so I was hella surprised to see this only had 2 chapters asdvdfnlkjfenvl what the fuck.
Chapter Text
Up on the rooftop of a pavilion, Luo Binghe observed Ming Fan and two other disciples as they scoured the courtyard below.
"Luo Binghe! Show yourself, and I promise I won’t beat you half to death!" Ming Fan yelled, his eyes darting around in search of any sign of the boy. "That brat’s got a mountain of chores waiting for him, and he’s nowhere to be found!"
Beside him, his cronies nodded eagerly.
"Ming-shixiong, don’t worry," one of them said, puffing out his chest. "We’ll find him. That lazy good-for-nothing can’t hide forever!"
"That shidi never learns. He’s been slacking off for far too long," the other added, cracking his knuckles.
Luo Binghe scoffed, rolling his eyes. Nice map awareness, idiots! I was a jungle main!
With a flick of his sleeve, he dashed away from the courtyard. "Now then, off to Shizun~"
A year had passed since he swore to Shen Qingqiu that he wouldn’t lay a hand on his so-called seniors. So far, he’d held true to that promise.
Instead, he channeled all his energy into racking up as many B-points as he could and used them to master stealth techniques. This wasn’t very main-hero-character of him, but if he wanted to get through these disciple years without stirring up too much trouble, he had to adapt.
Now, not even a Peak Lord could sense his presence if he didn’t want them to.
He put this skill to good use—eavesdropping on his fellow disciples to dodge their schemes, keeping tabs on guests visiting Qing Jing Peak to assess potential threats, and, most importantly, watching Shen Qingqiu go about his day.
Case in point.
Perched high in the branches of an old pine tree, Luo Binghe sat hidden among the thick foliage. From here, he had the perfect vantage point of the open-air pavilion below, where Shen Qingqiu was hosting a special calligraphy class for his most artistic disciples.
His movements were graceful as he demonstrated the proper way to hold a brush, his expression composed, posture impeccable.
Luo Binghe sighed dreamily, utterly enraptured.
[The main protagonist has turned into a stalker…]
"It's for the lessons!" Luo Binghe shot back in a whisper. A light breeze ruffled his hair, but he didn’t so much as blink. "Shizun’s techniques are so refined. How else am I supposed to learn if I don’t observe him closely?"
[You're not even taking notes...]
"Silence! Your damn chattering is ruining the view."
***
One afternoon, Luo Binghe lay sprawled across the roof of Shen Qingqiu’s bamboo house, his chin propped up on his palms and his legs swinging lazily in the air. The soft, melodic notes of a guqin drifted up from below, echoing through the tranquil bamboo forest. Shen Qingqiu was practicing, his slender fingers gliding over the instrument with refined grace.
The peaceful moment, however, was short-lived. The sound of approaching footsteps broke the stillness.
"Shizun, I've brought Zhangmen-shibo," Ming Fan announced respectfully at the entrance. Behind him, Yue Qingyuan stepped forward, nodding at the young disciple before dismissing him with a wave of his hand.
Ming Fan bowed and retreated, heading off to prepare tea.
"Good day, Qingqiu-shidi," Yue Qingyuan greeted, his voice warm.
Shen Qingqiu exhaled slowly, placing his guqin aside as he rose. "Zhangmen-shixiong," he acknowledged with a terse nod.
Yue Qingyuan seated himself across from Shen Qingqiu, his hands resting lightly on his knees. He didn’t comment on the lack of an invitation to sit, nor on the deliberate distance Shen Qingqiu maintained between them. Instead, he simply offered a small, patient smile. "How have your disciples been faring?"
"They’re not dead," Shen Qingqiu replied flatly.
Yue Qingyuan huffed a quiet laugh, undeterred by the curt response. "That's good to hear."
Seems like even the great sect leader can't detect me, Luo Binghe thought with a smug smile as he inched closer to eavesdrop.
"I have come to inform you of an upcoming night hunt," Yue Qingyuan continued, his tone turning more formal.
Shen Qingqiu tensed.
"This mission will be a joint effort between Qing Jing Peak and Bai Zhan Peak."
The words had barely left Yue Qingyuan’s mouth before Shen Qingqiu scoffed. "With that brute?"
Yue Qingyuan inclined his head. "Yes."
"Tsk," Shen Qingqiu clicked his tongue, his displeasure evident.
"Qingqiu, I understand that you and Liu-shidi have your differences, but this is for the good of the sect. It's an opportunity to strengthen relations between the peaks."
Shen Qingqiu settled his guqin back into place, his fingers lightly adjusting its strings as he prepared to play again. "I have no interest in wasting my time babysitting Liu Qingge and his pack of barbarians."
Yue Qingyuan’s smile faltered, but he maintained his composure. "I know this isn’t ideal, but—"
"Is that all?" Shen Qingqiu cut in, his voice icy. "You’ve delivered your message. If that's the extent of your business, then you’re done here, aren’t you? Next time, save yourself the trip and send a disciple with a scroll."
Yue Qingyuan’s shoulders slumped slightly, though he didn’t argue. He rose to his feet, his expression a mix of resignation and quiet sadness. "Very well. I’ll take my leave. Make your preparations for next week—bring as many disciples as you like."
Shen Qingqiu didn’t respond, his fingers already plucking at the guqin's strings, as if the conversation had never happened. Yue Qingyuan lingered for a moment longer, his gaze resting on Shen Qingqiu’s impassive face, before finally turning and walking away. He passed Ming Fan, who had just returned carrying a tray of tea.
**
Later that evening, Shen Qingqiu tossed and turned, unable to sleep. With a frustrated huff, he sat up abruptly.
"Useless," he hissed to himself, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Can’t even sleep properly. Pathetic."
He dressed quickly and left the bamboo house. Using his authority as a Peak Lord, he descended from the mountain sect and headed straight for the Warm Red Pavilion.
Of course, Luo Binghe was watching.
The first time he had followed Shen Qingqiu, it had been out of curiosity. He was a modern man, after all. He understood that even someone as aloof as Shen Qingqiu might have...needs. If nothing else, he figured he could at least find out what his Shizun was into.
However, what he discovered surprised him.
All this time, Shen Qingqiu never indulged in anything frivolous. He would simply drink a sleeping concoction, lie down, and fall asleep almost instantly, untouched and untouching.
Whenever Shen Qingqiu was anxious or frustrated, he came here. Not for pleasure, not for company—just to sleep.
Tonight was no different.
It must be the mission, Luo Binghe thought, sighing as he observed from the shadows. Shen Qingqiu drained his drink in a single gulp, collapsed onto the bed, and within moments, was out cold.
Yet, even in slumber, he was troubled. Shen Qingqiu's brows furrowed, lips tensing as if plagued by nightmares. His fingers twitched, his breathing uneven.
Luo Binghe’s heart hurt for him. After a bit of hesitation, he slipped into the room, careful not to make a sound. He knew Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t wake, no matter how much he struggled against whatever haunted his dreams.
"Shen Qingqiu…" Luo Binghe murmured softly. He knelt beside the bed, watching the man’s restless form. "What am I going to do with you?"
**
The door creaked open.
"Master Shen, Mei Ling is here to—" The serving girl’s words cut off as she blinked, taking in the unexpected scene before her.
A striking young man sat on the bed, Shen Qingqiu’s head nestled against his thigh. He was humming a soft lullaby, the melody nostalgic and soothing.
Luo Binghe looked up at the interruption, his smile dazzling and warm. Pressing a finger to his lips, he whispered, "Shh."
Mei Ling’s cheeks flushed pink. Normally, an unknown intruder would be cause for alarm, but she was a smart girl. She recognized their similar robes belonging to Qing Jing Peak. Besides, her instincts told her this young man could be trusted with their favorite client. She gave him a knowing nod and a small smile before closing the door quietly behind her.
Luo Binghe exhaled, relieved. Not only had he gotten away with his brazen act, but Shen Qingqiu had also calmed in his sleep. He glanced down at the man resting in his lap, his expression unguarded and almost peaceful.
This worked.
"Hm... maybe I can do this again," Luo Binghe mused to himself, a smirk tugging at his lips. He was taller than last year, but still shorter than Ning Yingying. It was possible. After my next growth spurt, though... He chuckled softly.
"Whatever." He was content to stay like this, offering what little comfort he could to his favorite character.
***
The day of the night hunt had arrived. Disciples from Qing Jing Peak and Bai Zhan Peak gathered at the foot of the mountain, their voices a low murmur of anticipation as they prepared for the journey ahead. The mission would take them three days: one to travel, one for the hunt, and one to return.
"Shizun, take me with you!" Luo Binghe pleaded, jogging after Shen Qingqiu as he strode towards his carriage.
"Don't waste you breath. A beansprout like you would only embarrass our peak!" Ming Fan sneered from the side.
Shen Qingqiu snapped his fan shut and pointed it at Luo Binghe. "You're too inexperienced for this mission. I already have enough on my plate."
"This disciple won’t be a burden!” Luo Binghe insisted, meeting his gaze with earnest defiance. "You know I'm better than all the disciples from both peaks combined!"
Ming Fan’s face turned red with anger, his nostrils flaring. "Why, you—!"
The surrounding disciples also erupted in outraged protest.
"Oh?"
Just like that, the clamor died down instantly as a new voice cut through the noise.
The Bai Zhan Peak Lord Liu Qingge approached, his very presence commanding silence. "That kind of arrogance is exactly what I’d expect from a disciple of yours, Shen Qingqiu."
Shen Qingqiu clicked his tongue, snapping open his fan. This damn Liu Qingge is disrespectful as always.
He fanned himself leisurely, carefully considering his next words. He hardly approved of Luo Binghe’s impulsiveness, but his pride wouldn’t allow this brute—of all people—to criticize his disciple.
"Is it arrogance to recognize one's strength? If so, then aren't you just as guilty?"
"What strength?" Liu Qingge scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. "I remember this boy from the disciple selection. He had some talent, but after a year under your tutelage, I doubt he’d last a second out there."
Bai Zhan Peak disciples erupted into hoots and jeers, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Yeah, leave the night hunts to us!" one of them shouted, while another added, "This isn’t a poetry contest, kid!"
Shen Qingqiu shut his fan with a loud and sharp CRACK, immediately silencing them. Liu Qingge, too, shot a glare at his own disciples.
The noise subsided, though the tension lingered thick in the air. Shen Qingqiu turned his gaze back to Luo Binghe.
"Very well, then. Luo Binghe, you may join us."
Luo Binghe practically beamed, his bag already packed and ready.
"He could really die, you know," Liu Qingge crossed his arms with a raised brow.
"Whether he succeeds or fails, it’s my responsibility. I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Liu-shidi."
"Suit yourself." Liu Qingge snorted and turned on his heel, striding away.
Shen Qingqiu didn’t spare him another glance. He stepped into his carriage, then, as if it were an afterthought, slid open the window. "Ming Fan, get the youngest disciple a horse. Since he’s so insistent, I assume he knows how to ride."
Luo Binghe stiffened. He had never ridden a horse before. But how hard could it be?
...
"Woah there!" Luo Binghe gripped the reins for dear life as the horse stubbornly refused to follow his lead, his legs shaking as he tried not to slide off.
Shen Qingqiu watched from his carriage and sighed. This is going to be a long trip.
***
The group neared the first resting point. After hours of struggle, Luo Binghe had finally managed to rein in his horse. What should have been an embarrassing ordeal had somehow—irritatingly—turned into an effortless display of grace. From hapless bumpkin who had never ridden a horse to a young prince trained in equestrian arts. His posture was perfect, his grip on the reins confident, and his smile far too bright for Shen Qingqiu’s liking.
Behind his fan, his eye twitched. Naturally talented was one way to put it. Unreasonably gifted in everything he did? That was more accurate—and deeply annoying.
Luo Binghe rode alongside the carriage, craning his neck in an attempt to sneak a peek inside. He hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse when something struck him squarely in the forehead. He barely had time to register the pain before recognizing the projectile: Shen Qingqiu’s fan.
"Eyes on the road, not on me," Shen Qingqiu snapped from within the carriage.
Luo Binghe rubbed his forehead, then broke into a wide, stupid grin. "Shizun, you have very good aim."
The carriage window slammed shut in response.
As he rode on, a System notification chimed in his mind.
[Violation: Avoiding romantic development with a female lead. -150 B-points. Points remaining after deduction: 10 B-points.]
[Dear protagonist (˃̣̣̥ヘ˂̣̣̥) this side quest was not necessary. The recommended action was to remain in Qing Jing Peak and deepen your relationship with one of the female leads—Ning Yingying.]
Luo Binghe rolled his eyes. "I already told you, I only have eyes for one person."
This quest was a minor one, not even mentioned in Proud Immortal Demon Way. But Luo Binghe had been so starved for any scrap of Shen Qingqiu's backstory that he dug through Airplane’s old blog posts. There, he found a draft where Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge's already sour relationship worsened after a misunderstanding during a night hunt.
This must be when it happened, Luo Binghe mused. He doubted that resolving this incident would prevent Liu Qingge’s qi deviation, but he had to try.
The War God’s death had been a major turning point—arguably the first true sign of Shen Qingqiu’s downfall. It was one of the crimes he had been convicted of, and once accused of murdering his own martial brother, who would ever trust him again?
However, Luo Binghe's headcanon was that Shen Qingqiu hadn’t actually done it. He started plenty of flame wars in the comments over this take, but he hadn’t given up then, and he certainly wouldn’t now!
[It is heavily suggested—]
"Hmph! What do you know? What the hell does Airplane know?" Luo Binghe scowled. "Either way, I’ll make sure Liu Qingge doesn’t end up dying and causing trouble for Shizun."
**
The resting stop was little more than a cleared-out grove, surrounded by dense forest. The peak lords gathered their disciples for a briefing.
Liu Qingge stood with his arms crossed. "The nearby town of Jinshan is overrun with yao beasts, each as strong as a low-level cultivator. That alone wouldn’t be an issue, but their excellent coordination is unnatural. Meaning, there’s a leader among them."
Shen Qingqiu lazily fanned himself. "From the accounts, I suspect it’s an Aoyin—a large, ox-like beast with a taste for human brains." A rare and powerful demonic beast capable of commanding others. Such a threat required the combined strength of two peak lords.
"We’re near their territory now," Liu Qingge warned. "Stay vigilant."
The disciples nodded, though some exchanged uneasy glances.
After the briefing, they set up camp, taking turns to keep watch. Bai Zhan Peak disciples were ready to insult Qing Jing Peak’s notoriously bland cooking—only to pause when an unexpectedly rich aroma filled the air.
Luo Binghe was stirring a pot that smelled downright irresistible.
One by one, they edged closer, pretending not to be interested. But when the first bowl was served, all pretense crumbled. Bowls were emptied quickly, and murmurs of approval spread through the camp.
The night settled in, lanterns dimmed, and the camp gradually fell into quiet as most of the disciples retired.
Shen Qingqiu, however, found himself increasingly uncomfortable. The close quarters, the smell of sweat, and the oppressive presence of so many men grated on his nerves. With Xiu Ya at his side, he stepped outside.
"I’m taking a stroll," he announced, waving off his disciples' concern by flashing his sword as reassurance.
The night air was cool and crisp, a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the camp. As Shen Qingqiu wandered, the rhythmic shhnk of a blade slicing through air caught his ear. Turning a corner, he scowled.
It was Liu Qingge.
The man was drenched in sweat, his white inner robes clinging to his skin as he swung his sword with practiced precision.
"Training at this hour? Is the great Bai Zhan War God afraid of a little yao beast?" Shen Qingqiu leaned against a tree, unable to resist a jab.
Liu Qingge shot him a glare but didn’t stop. "What, your sensibilities too delicate to sleep in a tent? Must be hard without your fancy bed and silk sheets."
"At least I don’t reek of sweat and brute force. Your disciples take after you so well—uncouth and unbearable," Shen Qingqiu sneered.
Liu Qingge exhaled sharply, his patience visibly wearing thin. The air between them thickened with hostility, and with an irritated huff, he sheathed his sword. "I’m heading back. You could use the training yourself."
But as he turned, a shadowy figure lunged from seemingly nowhere, its claws aimed straight for Liu Qingge’s back. Shen Qingqiu reacted instantly, Xiu Ya flashing as he deflected the attack. The creature—a small, shadowy yao beast—silently dissipated.
Liu Qingge spun around, his hand on Cheng Luan’s hilt. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing at Shen Qingqiu. "Did you just attack me?"
Shen Qingqiu’s expression hardened. "Don’t be ridiculous. That creature was about to tear your back open. I saved you."
"All I saw was your sword coming at me," Liu Qingge shot back, his voice rising with suspicion.
"Are you blind as well as stupid?" Shen Qingqiu snapped. "If I wanted to attack you, you’d be dead already."
Liu Qingge stepped closer, his glare icy. "You’ve always been sneaky, Shen Qingqiu. Why should I believe you?"
Shen Qingqiu opened his mouth to retort, but the words caught in his throat. What was the point? Liu Qingge had already made up his mind. He was the villain in everyone’s eyes, wasn’t he? If Liu Qingge wanted to believe the worst of him, so be it.
"If that's what you want to believe then—" Shen Qingqiu was about to say something he knew he’d regret, when a voice interrupted.
"Shizun is telling the truth!"
Both peak lords turned to see Luo Binghe emerging from the trees, holding a squirming, shadowy creature by the scruff of its neck. It was identical to the one Shen Qingqiu had just killed.
Luo Binghe’s expression was earnest as he addressed Liu Qingge. "Liu-shishu, this creature attacked me as well. Shizun wasn’t lying." He drew his sword and killed the creature, its body instantly disappearing into nothingness. "See? They’re real. Shizun saved you."
Liu Qingge stared at the space where the creature had been, jaw tightening. Finally, he let go of the hilt. "Fine. I… misjudged the situation." His tone was grudging, but a flicker of acknowledgment passed through his eyes.
He glanced at Shen Qingqiu, then shifted his attention to Luo Binghe.
He could admit that it was possible he hadn't sensed the first creature's presence at all—Shen Qingqiu had killed it before he even had time to react. But how had he not noticed Luo Binghe until now?
As if reading his mind, Luo Binghe coughed lightly and said, "Ahem. I’ve been practicing stealth techniques in my free time. Shizun and Liu-shishu must have been too preoccupied with each other to notice that this part of the forest is crawling with these creatures."
Liu Qingge narrowed his eyes. After a pause, he regarded Luo Binghe with newfound interest. "Not bad," he muttered. "You should come to Bai Zhan Peak. I’ll make you head disciple."
Luo Binghe’s smile didn’t falter, but internally, he gagged at the thought. Head disciple of Bai Zhan Peak? Yuck! As if he would ever leave Shizun’s side!
Still, he bowed politely. "This disciple is honored by Liu-shishu’s generosity, but my place is with Shizun in Qing Jing Peak."
Liu Qingge nodded curtly. "The offer stands, whenever you wish to take it." With that, he turned and strode off.
Meanwhile, Shen Qingqiu carefully observed Luo Binghe, suspicion flickering across his face. He, too, was unsettled by the fact that he hadn’t sensed Luo Binghe at all until he revealed himself.
Was I careless, or has he truly become this skilled? How did he know we were here? How long had he been watching?
Shen Qingqiu's mind churned with unanswered questions. But after a brief pause, he scoffed quietly.
Why the hell am I getting rattled by a damn brat?
"There was no need for you to interfere," Shen Qingqiu said, tone sharp as ever. Then, softer—almost imperceptible—"But… you handled that well."
Luo Binghe’s eyes lit up. He quickly clasped his hands and bowed. "Many thanks for Shizun’s praise."
Shen Qingqiu only huffed, flicking his sleeve as he turned back to camp.
Phew. Luo Binghe straightened, watching his master’s retreating figure with a small, satisfied smile. It seemed the two peak lords would overlook the whole thing.
Alright, mission accomplished!
He had been worried they'd actually try to kill each other earlier. And if it came to that, he would have supported his Shizun without hesitation. Luckily, it didn’t.
A familiar tone chimed in his head, interrupting his thoughts.
[Conflict between Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge is inconsequential to the overarching plot. Please focus on your own objectives.]
Luo Binghe's smile turned wry as he shrugged. Even if the System thinks it's pointless, I won't take any chances. I'll do whatever it takes to remove every tragedy from Shen Qingqiu's life.
***
The next morning, the disciples of Qing Jing Peak and Bai Zhan Peak were startled to find an unusual sight in front of Shen Qingqiu’s tent: a neatly wrapped bundle of premium meat—the kind reserved for Bai Zhan Peak’s elite warriors—and a fresh pelt from a recently hunted beast.
Murmurs broke out among the disciples.
"What’s going on…?"
"Who would dare steal from Bai Zhan's reserves? Unless—"
"Liu-shishu? No way. They hate each other!"
When Shen Qingqiu stepped out of his tent and saw the gifts, his expression darkened. What fresh nonsense is this?
Without a word, he snatched up the package and fur, and stormed across the camp, straight to Liu Qingge’s tent.
He threw open the flap without ceremony. "Liu Qingge!" he barked, tossing the offerings onto the floor. "What is this?"
Liu Qingge, who had been polishing Chen Luan, barely glanced up. "They're for you," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Why?"
Liu Qingge’s brow furrowed slightly, as if he hadn’t expected such a reaction. "The fur is for your bed. Thought you’d sleep better."
Shen Qingqiu’s eye twitched. "And the meat?"
"It’s an apology...and a thank you."
Shen Qingqiu froze for a half-second, then scowled. "I don’t need—"
"And," Liu Qingge added, his tone blunt and matter-of-fact, "you could use more muscle."
Oh, that was the last straw. Shen Qingqiu glared at him. "Take them back."
"No."
Shen Qingqiu kicked the bundle towards Liu Qingge. "Then rot with them for all I care!"
He marched out of the tent, seething.
As Shen Qingqiu left, Liu Qingge’s gaze shifted to the entrance of the tent. "Luo Binghe," he said, his voice firm. "I know you’re there. I’ve attuned my senses and can detect you now."
A brief pause. Then, tch, and Luo Binghe stepped into view, eyes narrowed, lips set in an irritated pout. He was annoyed at being caught. More than that, he was furious Liu Qingge had given his Shizun gifts.
The War God truly cannot be underestimated...
Liu Qingge met his glare. "Are you here to accept my offer?"
Luo Binghe’s scowl deepened. "No."
"Hmph. Your loss."
Then, without warning, Liu Qingge tossed the meat straight at him. Luo Binghe caught it on instinct.
"I heard you can cook," he said. "Make something decent for yourself and your Shizun."
Luo Binghe’s grip tightened on the package. He wanted to refuse—but didn’t. No matter how much he disliked Liu Qingge, he disliked even more the idea of Shen Qingqiu eating subpar rations.
Reluctantly, he tucked the package under his arm, jaw clenched.
"Thank you, Liu-shishu," Luo Binghe said, his tone anything but grateful. "I will take my leave now."
Liu Qingge smirked, exuding a self-satisfied air as he dismissed Luo Binghe with a wave and returned to polishing his sword.
As Luo Binghe made his way back to Qing Jing Peak’s side of the camp, his eye twitched, and he ground his teeth.
Shizun, let's kill him after all!!
Notes:
I'm back!
Spent the past month cramming my SVSSS Big Bang fic and now it's finally done!!! It's a complete fic with 23k words and accompanying art, so look forward to it! To those subbed to me, get ready for the email update threads on March 12 lol.
Chapter Text
"Do not disgrace our sect," Liu Qingge said simply, his tone leaving no room for failure.
Bai Zhan Peak and Qing Jing Peak disciples stood in formation near the town's entrance, weapons faintly gleaming under the moonlight. Distant growls and snarls of yao beasts echoed through the darkened streets. A sense of anticipation hung in the air—the thrill of an impending hunt.
At the forefront stood Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge, both calm and composed. As the final preparations were made, Luo Binghe somehow managed to slip through the ranks and positioned himself beside Shen Qingqiu.
"Shizun—" Luo Binghe started to say, but Shen Qingqiu cut him off, grabbing his collar and shoving him away.
"Stay back," Shen Qingqiu ordered, his voice cool and clipped. He unsheathe Xiu Ya, emphasizing the seriousness of the situation.
Nearby disciples restrained mocking grins, their eyes darting to Luo Binghe. Ming Fan, standing a few steps away, smirked openly.
"Luo-shidi should keep his distance," he said, loud enough for those around him to hear. "Lest he burden the Peak Lords with his death."
But Luo Binghe didn’t react to them. His gaze remained fixed on Shen Qingqiu, a silent plea in his expression. In that moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them.
I know exactly what you're capable of, brat, Shen Qingqiu's glare sharpened. Which is sneaking around and being a nuisance. So do what you do best and stay out of my way.
Luo Binghe’s eyes widened, brimming with indignation. His grip tightened on the basic training sword he'd been given. Shizun, I can fight! Please let me stay by your side.
You dare question my orders? Shen Qingqiu scoffed, flicking his hand in a dismissive motion. If you’re so keen on proving your worth, do it quietly and out of sight. I don’t need distractions.
Luo Binghe’s shoulders slumped. He knew he couldn’t argue without further offending his master.
As Shizun wishes... I'll stay hidden, he conceded and slipped to the back of the group, vanishing into the shadows.
From the sidelines, Ming Fan and the other disciples’ smirks faltered, replaced by utter confusion as they bore witness to the silent exchange.
"…what the hell was that?" Ming Fan muttered.
But before anyone could puzzle it out further, Liu Qingge raised his hand, signaling the start of the hunt.
"Move out," he commanded.
As the group advanced into the town, Shen Qingqiu cast one last glance at where Luo Binghe had disappeared. He took a deep breath, facing ahead.
They surged forward, blades cutting through darkness. Liu Qingge moved first, cleaving through the first wave of beasts before they could react. Blood splattered the ground in thick, steaming arcs.
Shen Qingqiu followed in step, Xiu Ya's light piercing through hordes, their shrieks abruptly cut short.
Behind them, their disciples held formation, guarding their flanks. The town reeked of rot and blood.
The night hunt had begun.
***
The small town of Jinshan was alive with chaos—the masters and disciples of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect fending off relentless onslaughts. There were far more yao beasts than reported, their numbers swelling beyond expectation.
Had they been gathering reinforcements in secret?
Shen Qingqiu’s sharp eyes scanned the battlefield, his gaze narrowing as it landed on a dense treeline that pulsed with unnatural energy. That's where the boss is hiding, he deduced, his lips thinning into a grim line.
"We'll go with plan A!" Shen Qingqiu announced. "The Aoyin won't reveal itself while we're surrounded. Liu-shidi and I will draw it out."
Liu Qingge nodded. "I'll follow your lead."
Shen Qingqiu turned to the disciples. "Scatter into groups and hold the perimeter. Keep the beasts occupied—do not let them regroup. We'll handle the rest."
The disciples obeyed without hesitation, breaking off into smaller formations. Their movements were precise and practiced as they held their ground against the encroaching beasts.
Shen Qingqiu watched just long enough to ensure the plan was in motion before he and Liu Qingge dashed towards the treeline.
Minutes stretched like hours as the battle unfolded.
Unfortunately, with two Peak Lords gone, the tides began to shift. The sheer number of creatures pressing in was staggering. There seemed to be no end to them.
"Hold formation!" Ming Fan yelled, his voice strained as he cut down another beast. "Don't let them break through!"
Bloodied from combat, he sneered as he assessed the group's condition. "If that Luo Binghe was here, he’d be dead already," Ming Fan gloated to no one in particular.
Oh, but Luo Binghe was there.
Just not where they expected him to be.
Perched atop a thatched roof, Luo Binghe swung his sword with effortless grace. A yao beast lunged at him, only to be cleaved in two mid-air. Another followed, meeting the same fate.
He paused for a moment, glancing down at his struggling martial siblings, then at the larger, more formidable yao beasts lurking just beyond them.
Hmm, he mused, tapping his chin with the tip of his sword. What course of action would farm the most B-points?
If I let the weaklings die, I can clean up more monsters and rack up kill points... But if I swoop in and save them, I'll get rescue points...
He exhaled through his nose, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Ah, forget it.
He's the main character.
He could totally have it all!
Luo Binghe swept his gaze across the battlefield, pinpointing those who were seconds away from a fatal strike, their swords sluggish, their footing faltering.
Perfect.
With a flick of his sleeve, he vanished from the roof.
A Qing Jing Peak disciple braced himself as a hulking yao beast bore down on him, its bloodlust palpable. His hand trembled as he raised his sword, barely managing to lift it in time.
Then, in a flash, Luo Binghe appeared. The beast’s claws were severed mid-strike, and in the next breath, its head was lopped off, its body hitting the ground.
The disciple stood frozen, wide-eyed, as Luo Binghe strode toward him.
"Shixiong, are you unharmed?" Luo Binghe asked, his voice warm and reassuring. "It was only thanks to your efforts that I could deal such a decisive blow. You weakened it perfectly."
The disciple blinked. "I… I did?"
"Of course," Luo Binghe said, his smile radiant. "Your bravery inspired me."
Before the disciple could respond, Luo Binghe was already gone, darting towards the next crisis.
"Huh. Luo-shidi... he's incredible," the disciple muttered to himself, clutching his sword with renewed determination.
Not far away, a Bai Zhan Peak disciple was locked in a brutal struggle with a pack of smaller yao beasts. Though he fought fiercely, their numbers were overwhelming. Just as one beast lunged for his throat, Luo Binghe materialized like a storm, his wild movement clearing the beasts in an instant.
The Bai Zhan disciple panted, his chest heaving as he stared at Luo Binghe. "You—!"
Luo Binghe sheathed his sword and turned to the disciple, the moonlight glowed softly behind him, casting a silvery halo that seemed to frame his figure. "Shixiong, your strength is truly remarkable. I merely finished what you started."
The disciple opened his mouth to argue, but the words died on his lips. There was something about the way Luo Binghe carried himself—the confidence, the grace, the way he radiated light (literally) in this dark situation. What... What was this pounding in his chest?
The adrenaline of battle? The thrill of victory? His face burned, his pulse quickened.
Meanwhile, Luo Binghe had already moved on.
Again and again, he appeared just before a monster could claim a victim. Each time he intervened, he made sure to praise the efforts of the disciples he 'saved,' his words laced with humility and charm. The Qing Jing Peak disciples, who had once viewed him with indifference or even disdain, now watched him with awe.
"Did you see Luo-shidi? He moves like an expert!"
"Shizun always said he was useless, but..."
"Ming-shixiong!" someone nudged Ming Fan. "If you're not careful, he might challenge you for head disciple."
Ming Fan scoffed. "Tch. He’s not as impressive as he looks."
Still, he wasn’t blind. The battlefield had stabilized. With Luo Binghe thinning out the most dangerous threats, the pressure on the disciples had eased considerably.
No use standing around.
"Quit gawking!" Ming Fan barked. "Hold your positions and reinforce the flanks! If you’ve got the breath to sing praises to a shidi without even a spiritual sword, you’ve got the strength to fight!"
Both Qing Jing Peak and Bai Zhan Peak disciples snapped into action, returning to their formations.
Another chime echoed in Luo Binghe’s mind, one of many.
[+100 B-points – Tactical Advantage: Strengthening Side Character Capabilities. Remarkable influence for a protagonist!]
Oho? They’re not just useless fodder after all. Luo Binghe chuckled.
He watched as the Cang Qiong Mountain sect disciples fought with renewed vigor. Blades clashed and bursts of spiritual energy crackled through the air; he could feel the fervor of the battlefield coursing through him.
Luo Binghe's heart pounded. He couldn't help it—this was exactly the kind of action a Xianxia fanboy like him had dreamed of when he transmigrated!
No longer hiding his presence, he unleashed a surge of qi that exploded beneath his feet, propelling him into the fray. He fell in step beside Ming Fan, cutting down a snarling yao beast that had broken past the defensive lines.
"Tired yet, shixiong?" Luo Binghe teased, his tone light.
Ming Fan flicked blood from his blade, slightly panting. "You've still got a few more years before you can challenge me, runt."
Luo Binghe huffed a laugh but didn’t argue. Instead, he moved in sync with the others—dodging, striking, covering his fellow disciples when needed.
The battlefield, once a chaotic mess, was now firmly under their control. As they fought side by side, a bond began to form among the martial siblings, a camaraderie tempered by blood and steel.
It felt... good.
The remaining yao beasts, weakened and disoriented, began to retreat into the dense forest.
"Let them go," Ming Fan called out, raising a hand to halt pursuit. "They’re not worth the effort."
The disciples lowered their weapons, breathless but victorious. Some slumped to the ground, while others helped tend to the wounded. A few even laughed, the tension of battle giving way to relief.
Someone clapped Luo Binghe’s back. He turned to see a Bai Zhan disciple grinning at him. "Not bad, Luo-shidi. You sure you're from Qing Jing?"
Luo Binghe opened his mouth to retort when—
A deep, guttural sound rumbled from the treeline ahead.
The air shifted.
Shizun!
Luo Binghe’s eyes widened, his playful demeanor vanishing in an instant.
Ming Fan turned to the assembled disciples. "Listen up! Those who are injured but can still move, help the severely wounded. Everyone else, with me. We’re going to support Shizun and Liu-shishu!"
He barely finished before Luo Binghe was already dashing ahead.
***
The Aoyin was a monstrous sight—a colossal, ox-like creature with a predatory aura that radiated menace. A nightmare made flesh. Its matted black fur hung in tangled clumps, and its massive horns curved like crescent moons, each nearly half the length of its hulking body. Its snout twitched, revealing a maw lined with jagged teeth designed for tearing flesh. Around its hooves, human bones lay scattered, gnawed clean.
Luo Binghe arrived just in time to see the beast charge towards Shen Qingqiu, its speed terrifying despite its size, horns lowered like spears.
But Shen Qingqiu, ever graceful, sidestepped with the elegance of a leaf caught in a breeze. In one fluid motion, he leapt onto the Aoyin’s horn, using it as a springboard to flip into the air. His robes flared as he descended, sword flashing in a brilliant arc of spiritual energy. At the same time, Liu Qingge darted in from the side, Cheng Luan carving a deep gash into the beast’s flank.
Ming Fan and the others also arrived at the scene, their eyes widening in awe as they witnessed the peak lords' devastatingly coordinated attacks.
"Look at them! Shizun and Liu-shishu are incredible!" one disciple whispered full of admiration.
"Their synchronized movements are flawless!" another added.
Luo Binghe rolled his eyes. Of course they’re fighting better now. That asshole Liu Qingge isn’t doubting Shizun anymore and is actually listening to him.
And who deserved credit for that? Me, obviously!
The Aoyin bellowed in rage, twisting its massive head to gore Liu Qingge—only for Shen Qingqiu to land lightly on its back, his blade flashing as he sliced cleanly through one of its horns. The severed horn crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, the earth trembling beneath them.
The beast snarled, whipping its head around to impale Shen Qingqiu with its remaining horn. Just as it seemed the strike would land, Liu Qingge severed the second horn, sending it tumbling down beside its twin.
"Whoa!" a disciple exclaimed with excitement. "Did you see that? They protected each other!"
Luo Binghe: ...
Shen Qingqiu’s fan snapped open, sending a wave of spiritual energy that momentarily blinded the Aoyin. Liu Qingge seized the opening, targeting the Aoyin’s massive foreleg. He swung Cheng Luan in a wide arc, cleaving through the beast’s thick hide, severing tendons and sending the creature crashing to its knees.
The disciples gasped in unison, their cheers rising as the two peak lords pressed their advantage.
Luo Binghe: ...
But the Aoyin wasn’t done. With a bone-shaking roar, it thrashed wildly, its crippled foreleg buckling as it struggled to regain its footing. The force of its movements sent Liu Qingge skidding back, though he managed to keep his balance.
The Aoyin convulsed violently, its body swelling and its muscles bulging grotesquely. The stumps of its severed horns began to writhe and crackle dark energy as they regrew—larger and more jagged than before. Its foreleg now steadied as it pushed itself up, its eyes glowing with renewed fury.
Shen Qingqiu remained unfazed. He dodged the Aoyin’s frenzied charges with precise, measured steps, subtly leading it into position.
"Now!" Shen Qingqiu's voice rang out.
Liu Qingge, who had hurled Cheng Luan into the sky earlier, raised his hand. The blade responded instantly, multiplying into countless swords of light that rained from above. The swords pinned the Aoyin to the ground, their spiritual energy searing its flesh.
The Aoyin let out one final, ear-splitting roar before collapsing, its massive body dissolving into a dark mist that dissipated into the air, leaving behind only silence.
The disciples erupted into cheers, their voices filled with reverence and pride.
"Liu-shishu!"
"Shen-shibo!"
"Shizun!"
"That was amazing!! Unparalleled!"
Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge exchanged a brief glance, their expressions unreadable. Shen Qingqiu gave a slight nod, while Liu Qingge sheathe Cheng Luan with a smirk.
Luo Binghe: ...
?!?!?!?!
$%#@ing night hunt! &*#@ Liu Qingge! Luo Binghe’s fists clenched at his sides. Enjoy it while it fucking lasts!
I'll be the one fighting by Shizun’s side next time!
Sensing something dangerous, Shen Qingqiu flicked his fan open as he spotted Luo Binghe, who stood there radiating barely-contained annoyance.
He regarded Luo Binghe with mild suspicion. "What's wrong with your face, brat?"
"Nothing, Shizun," Luo Binghe replied, his expression smoothing to passable innocence. "I’m glad you and Liu-shishu handled the Aoyin so quickly."
Shen Qingqiu narrowed his eyes but said nothing, turning away with a dismissive wave of his fan to listen to Ming Fan's report.
Luo Binghe followed behind, smile tight. Just give me a few more years, Shizun. I won’t lose to him!!
Notes:
Just sayin, I've joined Fandom Trumps Hate 2025. It's against TOS to share the auction link, so here is my tumblr post explaining the event.
Chapter Text
The ride back to Cang Qiong Mountain was smooth and uneventful... except for Luo Binghe, who sulked the entire way like a puppy that had been kicked, abandoned, and left out in the rain.
Normally, his expression was bright with eager energy. But now? He slumped in his saddle, arms stiff, lips pressed in a mutinous pout. Even his usually fluffy hair drooped, strands falling over his forehead as he cast mournful glances at Shen Qingqiu’s carriage.
It was baffling.
Ming Fan's eye twitched looking at him. Here was the undisputed star of the night hunt among the disciples, yet he moped as if he'd been personally scorned.
Every time Liu Qingge so much as rode past their carriage, Luo Binghe's scowl deepened, his grip tightening on the reins like he was picturing wringing someone’s neck.
Shen Qingqiu took in the scene with mild interest.
Such a childish display.
It was absurdly refreshing. Seeing Luo Binghe so downcast for the first time put him in a rare, mischievously good mood.
As they neared the mountain entrance, Shen Qingqiu leaned slightly toward the carriage window and called out, voice deliberately casual:
"Luo Binghe."
The effect was instant. His youngest disciple straightened so fast his horse snorted in protest, reins jerking as he steered closer. "Yes, Shizun?"
"Let's spar later," Shen Qingqiu said. "The bell game."
Before Luo Binghe could so much as gasp in delight, Shen Qingqiu flicked the carriage curtains shut. He didn’t need to see that irritatingly radiant, overjoyed expression to know it was there.
"Shizun!" Luo Binghe's voice rang out, clear and upbeat; all traces of his earlier gloom vanished. "I'll do my best!"
**
Later, on the same training mountain as before.
"Hah... Shizun... mercy! Have mercy!"
Luo Binghe lay sprawled on the ground, limbs splayed like a starfish, chest heaving as he gasped for air.
Shen Qingqiu landed beside him with effortless grace, the bells at his waist tinkling softly. He scoffed and flicked his fan open. "And here I thought you were sulking earlier because you had something to be proud of. This is all you’ve got?"
Luo Binghe groaned, forcing himself to roll over and push himself up. His arms shook, his legs wobbled, but still, he rose to his feet, swaying slightly.
"I can still fight!" he declared, voice strained but resolute.
Shen Qingqiu tilted his head, almost smirking behind his fan. "Hmm?"
It took Luo Binghe three full days to recover afterward.
***
Leaves fell and bloomed again; seasons turned. A year slipped by, then another.
[Congratulations! Saving fellow disciples during the night hunt, demonstrating heroic valor—B-points +500!]
[Violation: OOC. Refused to show Ning Yingying the jade guanyin, citing ‘personal boundaries.’ -200 B-points.]
[Innovation! Invented Warm Chamber Pot. B-points +50!]
After handling ten major incidents—such as the Qing Jing Disciples’ Brawl, the Punishment Kneeling at the Gates, and the Being Contrary to Shizun Incident—steadily raising his fellow disciples’ goodwill, and enduring thirty OOC penalties, Luo Binghe had accumulated a staggering 5,400 B-points.
It was an unprecedented feat. After all, Luo Binghe had grinded relentlessly over these years. The System had even celebrated his efforts, awarding him the "Protagonist Speedrunner Supreme" medal upon reaching 5k points.
And yet, Luo Binghe sighed as he stared at a pair of items in the System Shop.
Both will be critical for the Endless Abyss. He glanced at their cost and sighed again.
He still needed more points.
***
At Shuang Hu City.
"You cultivators must make the decision for us! I don't dare let Butterfly—"
Old Master Chen didn't get to finish his sentence.
One moment, his delicate concubine perched on his lap. The next, she was wrenched away.
Before anyone could react, she was face-down on the floor, Luo Binghe’s sword pressed to her neck, the steel glinting coldly. His grip on her shoulder kept her pinned.
?!?
Chaos erupted. The other concubines shrieked and scrambled back. Ning Yingying’s hands flew to her mouth, eyes wide. Ming Fan and the disciples jerked in shock, some reaching for their swords, waiting for their Shizun’s command.
Old Master Chen’s mournful tears dried in an instant, his face purpling with rage. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Spittle flew from his lips as he lurched forward, only to freeze under the sheer murderous aura rolling off Luo Binghe.
Shen Qingqiu glanced at his disciple, then at the girl. He didn’t react like the others—no sharp intake of breath, no immediate reprimand. He simply watched in that detached, lofty way of an immortal.
"Master Chen! Please—!" Butterfly sobbed, her voice trembling like a wounded bird. Her jade-white hands clutched at the floor, fingers twitching in terror. "I—I don’t understand! Master Chen, save me!"
Luo Binghe didn’t ease up. Instead, his blade bit closer—a thin red line bloomed against her pale skin. One wrong move, and she’d slit her own throat.
"You really don't value your life!" Luo Binghe hissed. "A butterfly? No, you’re a damn roach."
"Shen Xianzhang, control your disciple! This is madness!" Old Master Chen bellowed, his voice rising with fury.
Meanwhile, Butterfly—a.k.a. The Skinner—seethed inside.
Tsk. Useless old fool! She kept her eyes downcast, lashes fluttering. How did this brat see through me?!
But it didn’t matter. They had no proof.
She let her lip quiver, tears streaking her porcelain cheeks. "It hurts! Please, I've done nothing wrong!" Once I get out of this, I'll demand a private chamber to "recover," then vanish before they can act. A slow, careful breath. And this boy? I’ll make sure he suffers for this humiliation!
But then,
To her, and everyone’s surprise, Shen Qingqiu merely crossed his arms.
"Luo Binghe," he said lightly, "do what you think is necessary. I'll take responsibility."
A beat of stunned silence.
The Skinner’s blood ran cold.
She saw Luo Binghe’s reflection on his sword—saw the killing intent in his eyes—and for a moment, wondered who between them was the real demon.
No time to hesitate. With a shrill cry, she unleashed her demonic energy, shredding the lanterns and plunging the room into darkness. In the split second it took for Luo Binghe’s eyes to adjust, she wrenched free before his blade could cleave her throat.
She lunged toward the concubines, aiming to disappear into the chaos—change faces, slip away. But before she could reach them, a streak of light cut through the shadows, blocking her path. Another followed, piercing her abdomen.
The Skinner shrieked, collapsing as Shen Qingqiu stepped forward, Xiu Ya gleaming in his grip.
"Disgusting," he sneered, glaring down at her.
She chuckled darkly, blood bubbling at her lips. "Ah, the famed Xiu Ya Sword… lives up to its reputation." Her hand twitched, fingers stretching toward his robes—
A flash of silver. Her fingers hit the floor, sliced cleanly by Luo Binghe’s sword.
"I wanted to have your skin..." she whispered, voice already fading.
Shen Qingqiu didn’t give her a second glance. With one precise stroke, he severed her head.
The arrival of fresh lanterns revealed a withering corpse. Her flesh decayed at an unnatural speed, leaving only Butterfly’s empty silks and jewels behind.
Old Master Chen collapsed to his knees, face pale. "I—such a fool I was!" He sobbed openly, half in terror, half in gratitude. "Thank you, immortal master! Without you, we would have all been doomed!"
Shen Qingqiu flicked the blood off Xiu Ya and turned away. "Ming Fan, handle the cleanup. Ensure no traces of demonic qi remain."
Ming Fan cupped his hands and nodded. "Yes, Shizun."
"Ning Yingying, check on the concubines," Shen Qingqiu continued. "See to their well-being. And confirm there are no others like her."
The disciples worked swiftly. With The Skinner vanquished, Old Master Chen hosted a grand feast in their honor. Word spread quickly, and crowds flocked to join the festivities.
"Praise to the Cang Qiong Mountain sect! Praise to the Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu!"
Amid the revelry, the disciples gathered around Luo Binghe. Even Ming Fan, begrudgingly impressed, stood among them.
"How could you tell?" "Was it her scent? Her aura?"
"Ah... well, I just had a feeling. It's all thanks to Shizun's teachings," Luo Binghe spoke humbly.
Suddenly, a sharp snap of a fan cut through the noise, parting the crowd like a blade. Shen Qingqiu's presence commanded the space.
"Follow me," he ordered.
They all knew who he meant. Luo Binghe bowed and stepped forward without question.
Shen Qingqiu led him outside, to a secluded corner of Old Master Chen's inner garden. The moon hung high, casting pale light over the still pond. In the distance, laughter and the clinking of wine cups echoed from the main house. Here, away from the celebration, the air felt cooler, quieter.
"So," Shen Qingqiu said, wasting no time. "How did you know?"
Luo Binghe blinked. "As I said—"
Shhhing!
Xiu Ya was leveled at his heart in an instant.
Luo Binghe barely resisted the urge to sigh. What kind of foreshadowing is this? he mused, amused despite himself.
"Alright." He raised his hands in surrender, meeting Shen Qingqiu’s gaze with deliberate openness. "I didn’t like the way she looked at you. That’s all, Shizun."
Shen Qingqiu’s brow twitched. He pressed Xiu Ya forward, the tip piercing Luo Binghe’s robes. "You attacked her just for that?"
"Yes."
It wasn't a lie.
Luo Binghe had known "Butterfly" was The Skinner—he'd harassed Airplane for his unpublished drafts, and Airplane had relented, handing over a self-contained story that focused on Shen Qingqiu rather than the protagonist. Luo Binghe had savored it.
He’d planned to stay passive, to let events unfold as they should… until he saw the way that roach had stared at his Shizun. Scheming. Covetous. He absolutely couldn't let it stand.
Shen Qingqiu sensed he was telling the truth and sheathed his sword. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you out of your mind?"
"Just a bit hard-boiled." Luo Binghe smiled wryly.
Shen Qingqiu's expression turned stern as he scrutinized him. "Your behavior's been strange—no, stranger—lately. Erratic. Reckless. What are you rushing for?"
Luo Binghe's gaze dropped. "This disciple... has been impatient. My apologies for causing Shizun concern."
Shen Qingqiu narrowed his eyes.
"I just…" Luo Binghe murmured, then said, "I need to get stronger." Only two more years until the Immortal Alliance Conference, until the Endless Abyss and the inevitable.
A night breeze swept through the garden, rustling the leaves, stretching the silence taut between them.
Shen Qingqiu clicked his tongue. With a swish of his robes, he strode over to a stone bench and sat down. Luo Binghe moved to follow, but Shen Qingqiu lifted a hand to stop him.
"Return to the feast. This master wishes to be alone."
Luo Binghe hesitated, lips parting as if to speak, but in the end, he only bowed and turned away.
Shen Qingqiu watched his retreating back.
Pathetic.
He hadn’t noticed anything at all—but his young disciple had. Despite what Luo Binghe said, in the end, he was the true hero.
Luo Binghe. Seemingly perfect in every way, except for his occasional bouts of inexplicable weirdness.
Shen Qingqiu huffed a breath, close enough to a laugh.
"To get stronger, huh?"
Bitterness welled up from his gut, sharp and acrid, as if he could taste it on his tongue.
I'm the one who needs to get stronger.
**
Inside the main house, Luo Binghe briefly glanced at Shen Qingqiu before turning to his B-points screen.
A notification chimed.
[Congratulations! ※\(^o^)/※ Mission complete: Defeated The Skinner. +50 B-points. Total points: 5,710.]
So cheap?!
Luo Binghe scowled. Damn System! Weren't B-points supposed to mean Badass points?! I was totally badass!
Ah, whatever. At least he didn’t lose any points this time.
Notes:
The good times are OVER!
Jk. I'm joking.
Thanks for sticking around every update. As usual, writing plans are on my profile. I ended up joining a lot of writing events and exchanges tho so _(:3」∠)_
In the meantime, here's Blackened Metamorphosis—my ambitious post-PIDW Bingjiu SVSSSBigBang complete fic where Shen Jiu dies and becomes a Calamity ghost!
Chapter Text
Luo Binghe paused outside the bamboo house, exhaling deeply.
It had been two weeks since their return from Shuang Hu City. That same day, Shen Qingqiu had given Yue Qingyuan a brief report on the night hunt—then vanished into the Lingxi Caves for seclusion. No farewell, no warning. No chance for Luo Binghe to prepare him what he’d known was coming.
He grabbed the broom leaning by the door and began sweeping the fallen leaves from the front step.
I've done what I could. The rest is on them now.
Despite his grievances about it, the cracks between Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge had somewhat mended. Perhaps history wouldn't repeat itself. But if fate was stubborn—if Liu Qingge still died in those caves, and Shen Qingqiu was blamed again...
Luo Binghe’s jaw clenched. He had shielded his shizun from every threat he could foresee. After all that, surely it wouldn’t all go to waste now?
He would have followed if he could. But the Lingxi Caves were a labyrinth even at the best of times, their twisting paths drowned in spiritual interference. The System's map function for that area cost an obscene amount of B-points he couldn’t spare.
A voice broke his brooding.
"Sweeping again?" Yue Qingyuan said with gentle amusement. "Qingqiu is lucky to have such a dutiful disciple."
Luo Binghe turned and bowed. "Zhangmen-shibo. What brings you here?"
Yue Qingyuan stood at the edge of the clearing, arms loosely crossed, a soft smile on his face. His gaze drifted toward the bamboo house.
"Perhaps the same as you," he said quietly. “I hope his seclusion treats him kindly.”
He chuckled, the sound small and self-deprecating, and gestured to the worn wooden table beside the house.
"Will you join me for tea?"
Luo Binghe hesitated, then nodded. "This disciple will prepare it."
Yue Qingyuan sat down, folding his hands. Again, his eyes wandered—distant, searching, as if looking for someone he couldn't find.
Luo Binghe noted it silently. If there was something deeper behind that regretful face, then perhaps this conversation would be worth his time.
**
He returned carrying a wooden tray, balancing a pot of steaming tea, two cups, and a small plate of snacks. He'd even taken the trouble to brew Shen Qingqiu’s favorite—a delicate white tea infused with osmanthus—and set out a few honeyed lotus seeds and almond pastries that he knew his shizun preferred.
When Luo Binghe placed the tray down, he noticed Yue Qingyuan’s gaze soften immediately. The sect leader reached out almost absently, picking up one of the pastries between his fingers. The faint, nostalgic smile that crossed his face spoke volumes—an expression that belonged to someone who knew exactly whose favorite these were.
Just as I thought. Luo Binghe assessed, settling across from him with a properly deferential posture, hands resting neatly on his lap.
He had always seen Yue Qingyuan as little more than a background NPC—someone who handed out quests and occasionally bore the brunt of Shen Qingqiu’s sharpest barbs. It had been amusing, watching his Shizun snap at the man.
But now, he reconsidered.
Maybe he'd underestimated their bond.
In PIDW, despite the accusations leveled against Shen Qingqiu—abuse, negligence, even suspicion of murdering their martial sibling—Yue Qingyuan had never once punished him. And in the end, the man had died trying to save him.
Definitely a valuable ally for what's to come.
Yue Qingyuan took a sip of tea and set his cup down with a quiet clink. "So, Binghe" he said with a small smile, "how have things been on Qing Jing Peak? Is Qingqiu treating you well?"
Luo Binghe blinked innocently. "Doesn’t Zhangmen-shibo visit often enough to already know?" The words slipped out, polite but edged with implication: You’re here constantly. Why ask me?
Yue Qingyuan sighed, rubbing his temple. "Your shizun is… sparing with his words when I ask." He glanced up, a wry glint in his eyes. "You’d know, wouldn’t you?"
Luo Binghe froze for a beat, caught off guard. In Yue Qingyuan’s gaze, he glimpsed a rare perceptiveness that made him reassess the man once again. The Sect Leader wasn’t as mild and clueless as he appeared.
Recovering smoothly, he set his cup down. "If there is something Sect Leader wishes to tell my Shizun," he said carefully, "perhaps it would be better to say it directly."
Yue Qingyuan’s expression faltered—just slightly, but enough for Luo Binghe to be sure he had struck the mark.
Good.
Casually, Luo Binghe reached into his sleeve and drew out a thin, worn cord, from which hung a small jade guanyin.
"This was from my mother," he said, lowering his gaze and letting his voice soften. "She died before I could tell her many things I wanted to say. Now... I can only whisper them to this."
Luo Binghe's ultimate tactic: invoking his dead mother!
Yue Qingyuan stared at the jade guanyin. A complicated look crossed his face—sorrow, understanding, guilt.
But as he opened his mouth to respond, a Qiong Ding disciple sprinted into the clearing, breathless and pale. "Shizun! Shen-shishu and Liu-shishu—a qi deviation in the Lingxi Caves—"
Yue Qingyuan shot to his feet. "Are they alright?"
The disciple swallowed. "Gravely injured, but alive! Mu-shishu requests your presence to oversee the situation."
Yue Qingyuan was already moving when he halted, turning back to Luo Binghe.
The boy bowed deeply.
"For Shizun’s sake," he said, voice steady and low. "Please tell him what you need to. Before it’s too late."
Yue Qingyuan’s mouth tightened. He gave a sharp nod and strode off, the disciple trailing after him.
Luo Binghe remained standing in the clearing for a long moment. Then—
PHEW!
He collapsed forward onto the table in a dramatic sprawl of relief.
It changed!
Good job, Shizun! You did it! You saved him! Luo Binghe practically vibrated with glee, fists clenched tightly against the table. He didn’t need to see it to know—it had to be Shen Qingqiu who had saved Liu Qingge.
TAKE THAT, HATERS!! he thought triumphantly. I knew it! I knew Shizun didn’t kill him!
Grinning like an idiot, Luo Binghe straightened, gave the abandoned tray a brief pat of thanks, and then disappeared into the forest, stealthily following after Yue Qingyuan to find Shen Qingqiu.
**
When Shen Qingqiu stirred awake, the room was bathed in soft, late-afternoon light. A deep, bruising ache settled over his body, as if he’d been trampled on. His meridians throbbed with exhaustion from stabilizing Liu Qingge’s qi deviation. Bandages clung to his torso, damp with the scent of blood and medicinal herbs.
He winced as he tried to sit up, but a hand caught his.
"Take it slow," Yue Qingyuan murmured, voice thick with concern.
Shen Qingqiu, disoriented, frowned up at him. "Liu-shidi—" he croaked, his throat dry. "Is he—?"
"Stable," Yue Qingyuan quickly assured him, clasping Shen Qingqiu's hand between both of his. "He's resting in the next room. You did well, Xiao Jiu."
Relief flickered across Shen Qingqiu’s face, only for him to grimace and swat Yue Qingyuan’s hands away with what little strength he could muster. "I told you not to call me that."
Normally, Yue Qingyuan would have backed off, his face falling into resigned sorrow. But this time, he didn’t move.
Luo Binghe’s words echoed in his mind. "Before it’s too late."
Swallowing hard, Yue Qingyuan met Shen Qingqiu’s glare head-on. "Xiao Jiu," he said, firmer now, "there’s something I need to tell you."
And then—finally—the truth spilled out.
How he had tried to return for him all those years ago, only to suffer from a qi deviation. How he’d been locked in seclusion for a year, screaming himself hoarse for someone—anyone—to go back for the boy he’d left behind. How his blade Xuan Su was a death sentence, each unsheathing stealing fragments of his life.
Shen Qingqiu listened in stunned silence, his expression shifting from disbelief to fury.
"You—" He choked on his breath. "You absolute idiot! You self-sacrificing, martyr-complex imbecile—!" His voice cracked, hands trembling where they clutched the sheets. "All this time, I thought—!"
Yue Qingyuan braced for the lash of resentment, but instead—
"You’re such a fool, Qi-ge."
Shen Qingqiu’s voice broke. Tears spilled over, furious and unrelenting.
Yue Qingyuan’s own vision blurred. "I’m sorry, Xiao Jiu."
"Be sorry for yourself!" Shen Qingqiu swiped at his face, but the tears kept coming. "Why the hell did you wait until now to tell me?! Did you think I wouldn’t care?!"
Yue Qingyuan flinched, shamefaced. "I… didn’t know how." His fingers curled into his palms. "I thought—after everything—you wouldn’t want to hear it from me. But then… a certain disciple reminded me that some things shouldn’t go unsaid."
Shen Qingqiu snorted wetly. Oh, he already knew exactly which meddling little beast had stuck his nose in.
The atmosphere between them, unbelievably, had lightened. Shen Qingqiu, still pale and exhausted, managed a ghost of a smile—and Yue Qingyuan found himself smiling too, his heart finally easing after so many years of regret.
Across the courtyard, from a shadowed veranda, a certain someone seethed.
That RAT bastard! Luo Binghe fumed, watching the scene unfold. I give Yue Qingyuan good advice and he’s the one who gets to see Shizun smile like that?!
[Dear protagonist, you've truly impacted this story in surprising ways!] the System chirped gleefully.
Luo Binghe narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Oh? Now you admit it?" he sneered. "Where's your 'heavily suggested' nonsense now, huh? Apologize!"
The System wisely ignored him and dropped another notification instead:
[Liu Qingge: Reversed the War God's death. B-points +150]
[Hidden Achievement Unlocked: "Threads of the Past" – Uncovered hidden backstory. B-points +100]
Luo Binghe blinked at the screen, then smirked, pleased. But then his gaze drifted back to Shen Qingqiu—weary from injury, but smiling, lighter than he’d ever seen him. Something warm settled in his chest.
Points or no points—this was worth it.
**
"Rest well, and I’ll see you tomorrow," Yue Qingyuan said with a gentle wave as he stepped out. The lantern light swayed in his hand, casting long shadows across the floor.
"Mn. Good night." Shen Qingqiu nodded, propped against the pillows. The door clicked shut—swallowing the last trace of light as footsteps faded down the hall.
For a while, Shen Qingqiu lay still, the weight of the day's emotions making his body feel heavier than his injuries. Then, with a grunt, he pushed himself upright. His gaze fixed on the window, where the moonlit courtyard stretched beyond.
"Luo Binghe," he murmured, barely louder than a breath.
At once, a familiar head popped into view—hands gripping the windowsill, body crouched just out of sight, only his face peeking up like a guilty child caught red-handed.
"Shizun… knew I was here?" Luo Binghe asked, wide-eyed.
Shen Qingqiu scoffed. "Just a hunch."
They regarded each other in the quiet. Luo Binghe's smile dimmed the stars behind him, but that brightness faded as his gaze traced the bloodstained bandages peeking through Shen Qingqiu’s robes. His brows furrowed.
I should have gone in the caves...
"Even in the dark, I can read your face clearly, you brat," Shen Qingqiu said, rolling his eyes. "You've done more than enough already."
Luo Binghe’s lips twitched. "Still, I—"
"Stop," Shen Qingqiu cut him off. "Once I recover and complete my seclusion, I'll be perfectly capable without your lurking about. If I catch you spying again..." He let the threat hang.
"This disciple promises not to interfere," Luo Binghe muttered, sounding both wounded and shameless. "... much."
"I heard that." Shen Qingqiu pinched the bridge of his nose, feigning indifference as he sank back against the pillows. "Just go. This master is going to sleep."
A soft laugh escaped Luo Binghe. "May Shizun have a swift recovery."
Then, as he turned away, the barest whisper followed him:
"...Thank you."
Luo Binghe paused. He didn’t look back, but his smile deepened as he melted into the night.
For you, anything.
***
It had been several months since Shen Qingqiu entered seclusion again.
By Luo Binghe’s count, it should be around this time that Sha Hualing would launch her invasion against Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.
Every day, he made a point to linger near the Rainbow Bridge, all while keeping a close eye on any disturbance in the spiritual currents.
Today, finally, the signs were there.
A ripple in the wards. A scent of sulfur clinging to the wind.
The demons are here.
Luo Binghe bolted for Qiong Ding Peak.
At the grand hall’s entrance, a senior disciple barred his path with a skeptical glance. "What business does a junior like you have with the Sect Leader?"
Luo Binghe clasped his hands in a hasty salute. "This disciple must speak with Zhangmen-shibo immediately. It’s urgent."
"Urgent?" The disciple scoffed. "Where are your manners? Expecting an audience without even introducing yourself first—"
"This one is Luo Binghe," he said tightly.
"Ah, right, the overachiever from Qing Jing Peak." The disciple smirked, clearly recalling the rumors—that lunatic who's ridiculously strong for his age, the one Shen-shishu tolerates for reasons no one understands. Still, duty won out. "Wait here."
Moments later, the disciple returned, baffled. "...He’ll see you."
Luo Binghe gave a quick nod and slipped inside.
**
Yue Qingyuan sat at a table cluttered with scrolls, his sleeves rolled up as he sorted documents. He looked over when Luo Binghe entered, his smile warm but distracted. "Binghe. I was just preparing to leave—is something the matter?"
Luo Binghe bowed deeply. "Zhangmen-shibo, forgive the intrusion, but demons are gathering near the Rainbow Bridge."
Yue Qingyuan’s smile dropped and the air around him stilled. "Explain."
"I felt something was off today," Luo Binghe said, layering his voice with just the right mix of earnestness and sheepishness. "I… often wait there. For Shizun." He glanced away, as if embarrassed by his own devotion. "The wards seemed unstable. There’s movement in the western passes—demonic energy."
Yue Qingyuan’s gaze turned serious. "You’re certain?"
"Would this lowly disciple dare waste Zhangmen-shibo’s time with a joke?"
A beat of silence. Then Yue Qingyuan rose, all traces of casualness gone.
He called to the disciple standing outside the door. "Summon Peak Lords Wei Qingwei and Qi Qingqi. Reinforce the guards on the Rainbow Bridge immediately."
Turning back to Luo Binghe, he added, "You have keen instincts. Stay alert."
Luo Binghe bowed again, hiding his smile.
Good. Now there’s no need to disturb Shizun’s seclusion.
**
Sha Hualing crouched atop a broken stone arch, glaring down at the battlefield. Where had her plans gone wrong?
She’d been waiting for her scouts to confirm the Cang Qiong Sect Leader’s descent from the mountain—only to be ambushed by Wan Jian and Xian Shu disciples.
Now half her forces were pinned at the Rainbow Bridge, while the other half fled through the mountain pass. One of her strongest generals, Elder Du Bi, had been beheaded by Yue Qingyuan himself.
She ground her teeth. Forget stealing the sect seal—her own escape wasn't even guaranteed.
A flash of movement caught her eye.
A lone figure, clad in Qing Jing Peak green.
Young. Barely armed.
Opportunity.
Sha Hualing dropped lightly from her perch, landing soundlessly behind him. Before the boy could react, she flicked her wrist—thorned restraints lashed out like a whip, coiling around his body. The barbs bit deep into his skin.
Luo Binghe staggered but made no sound.
She gave a low, amused laugh, circling him slowly, trailing a finger along the restraints. "I'm truly sorry to do this, gege. With a face like yours... maybe I should take you home and make you my husband instead."
She tilted his chin up to meet her gaze.
He stared back—eyes dark, fathomless. Utterly indifferent.
A shiver prickled her spine.
Something’s wrong with this one.
"Let him go, demon girl!" Ming Fan shouted, leading the charge as Qing Jing Peak’s disciples surged forward.
Sha Hualing deflected Ming Fan’s strike with a lazy flick of her wrist, then slammed the pommel of her dagger into his ribs, sending him crashing to the ground.
"Aww, so eager to die for him?" she cooed. The cruel restraints around Luo Binghe tightened, drawing blood.
Suddenly—
A sharp hum split the air.
A blade of light, impossibly fast and precise, cut cleanly between her and Luo Binghe, severing the thorned restraints in an instant without so much as grazing the boy’s skin.
Sha Hualing recoiled, baring her teeth.
"That level of precision and control! It can only be..." She snapped her gaze upward.
Descending through the skies, a figure stood silhouetted against the sun. His robes billowed, pristine even amidst the chaos—
Shen Qingqiu.
The famed Xiu Ya Sword.
He landed lightly, Xiu Ya hovering in the air behind him. With an effortless motion, he caught the sword’s hilt and leveled its gleaming tip at Sha Hualing.
"You overstep, demon," he said coldly.
Without waiting for a reply, he slashed downward.
The ground before him tore open with a deafening crack, a long, jagged scar gouged deep into the stone. Dust clouded, swallowing Sha Hualing whole.
When it cleared, a hulking figure stood between her and the devastation—Elder Tian Chui, armor shining dully, bearing only a shallow scratch from the strike.
"Saintess," Tian Chui rumbled, his voice like an avalanche. "Leave the Qing Jing Peak Lord to me."
He cracked his knuckles and turned his heavy gaze onto Shen Qingqiu. "Let’s see how well your tricks hold up against raw power."
Behind him, Sha Hualing laughed, crimson eyes alight.
"Careful, little cultivators," she sang out. "This Elder Tian Chui's armor is lined with Without a Cure poison! Just as the name implies, when a human is scratched, there's no cure!"
A ripple of horror passed through the disciples. Even Shen Qingqiu’s jaw tightened.
"Fall back!" he ordered. His disciples hesitated, then scattered to a safer distance.
Then he lunged.
Elder Tian Chui met him with a roar, charging like a battering ram. His armored shoulder aimed to slam straight into Shen Qingqiu’s chest. At the last instant, Shen Qingqiu twisted aside, parrying a crushing blow that would’ve shattered bone—but the force still sent him skidding back.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sha Hualing creeping toward the mountain pass—an escape route.
Damn it. If she escapes, this is all for nothing.
"A-Luo! Watch out!" Ning Yingying shrieked.
To draw Shen Qingqiu’s attention away from the Saintess, Elder Tian Chui pivoted, lunging straight for the young disciple.
"Watch, Peak Lord! I’ll crush your boy faster than my poison can kill him!"
Shen Qingqiu’s body moved before his mind caught up.
But Luo Binghe was faster.
He stepped into the blow.
For one heart-stopping moment, it seemed impossible—Luo Binghe’s sword met Tian Chui’s spiked forearm with a deafening crack. The regular steel blade shattered instantly, but the split-second delay was enough.
Xiu Ya’s counterstrike ripped through Tian Chui’s exposed throat before the demon could even register shock.
"You—?!" Tian Chui choked, eyes bulging. His gaze locked onto Luo Binghe, who stood unharmed despite the spike that had clearly grazed his side. "Wha—?"
Then the darkening aura around Luo Binghe hit him. A predator’s grin flickered at boy's lips—so fleeting only Tian Chui caught it.
The demon elder collapsed, dead upon hitting the ground.
Silence.
Shen Qingqiu exhaled sharply, scanning Luo Binghe. "Were you pierced?" he demanded, voice low but urgent.
Luo Binghe shook his head quickly. "No, Shizun." He touched his ribs, where blood had soaked through torn fabric. "These were from the restraints."
A lie.
Shen Qingqiu’s gaze lingered a fraction too long on the tear near Luo Binghe’s side—where his robes revealed a shallow gash. Too clean for thorns.
Still, he said nothing.
Across the battlefield, Sha Hualing froze mid-retreat.
She’d seen it. Tian Chui's poisoned spike had connected. Yet Luo Binghe stood there, smiling, as if death itself had glanced off him.
Her lips curled in a grimace.
At first, she had thought to curse him for interfering.
But now...
Her eyes locked onto Shen Qingqiu. If that young hero had thrown himself into harm’s way for his master…
Perhaps the best revenge… is to make him grieve.
With only a quarter of her forces left and the invasion in shambles, Sha Hualing gave the retreat order. The proud assault she had so carefully orchestrated had ended in ruin.
She cast one last venomous look at Shen Qingqiu before slipping into the shadows with some of the survivors.
They had barely disappeared when the air split as Liu Qingge dropped into the wreckage, Cheng Luan flashing. His gaze swept over the remaining stragglers with cold fury.
***
In the aftermath of the battle, disciples bustled around, cleaning debris and tending to the wounded. A celebratory mood had begun to stir—after all, they’d thwarted a demon invasion and protected the Rainbow Bridge!
Yet not far from the crowd, a strange scene unfolded.
There, in full view of half the sect, Luo Binghe knelt in the middle of the courtyard, head bowed. Shen Qingqiu stood over him with an unreadable expression.
Whispers spread like wildfire among the watching disciples.
"…Is he being punished?"
"Looks like it."
"Seriously? Luo Binghe helped take down Elder Tian Chui and spotted the demons before anyone else. Shouldn’t he be getting a reward?"
Ming Fan scoffed. "That lunatic’s always showing off, making Shizun worry."
"But A-Luo was so brave! He protected us!" Ning Yingying wrung her hands.
"Shhh! Shizun's talking."
Indeed, Shen Qingqiu’s voice cut through the murmurs. "Reckless. Arrogant. Who do you think you are?"
Luo Binghe lowered further into a kowtow. "This disciple accepts any punishment Shizun sees fit."
Around them, the whispers only grew louder.
Yue Qingyuan arrived shortly after, the sea of disciples parting in deference. His robes were still dusted with battle debris, but his expression was calm as he surveyed the scene.
"Shen-shidi," he said warmly, but with a note of concern. "What’s happening here?"
Shen Qingqiu flicked open his fan. "This master is disciplining a foolish disciple who seems to have forgotten the meaning of self-preservation."
Yue Qingyuan’s gaze shifted to Luo Binghe. "Disciple Luo performed admirably today. Without his warning, the sect might have suffered far greater losses." He paused, then added, "Surely such merit deserves... some consideration?"
"It’s alright, Zhangmen-shibo," Luo Binghe said quietly, still in kowtow. "This disciple only did his duty. If Shizun wishes to punish me, I won’t complain."
The Qing Jing Peak disciples winced in unison.
Ming Fan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Here we go again."
Disciples from other peaks gawked, horrified.
"Why does he sound like he’s looking forward to it?"
"What a shame," Qi Qingqi muttered, shaking her head. "A disciple with that much potential, and he’s being molded into a—" She gestured vaguely, as if words failed her.
"Shen-shidi," Yue Qingyuan said gently, placing a hand on Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder, "it’s been a long day. Let the boy rest."
Shen Qingqiu’s expression remained unreadable. He folded his fan with a flick. "Fine. Get up."
Luo Binghe rose smoothly—but not before the disciples closest to him caught the faintest downward twitch of his lips.
***
That evening, the feast roared with laughter and music. Praise flowed for Yue Qingyuan, the Peak Lords—and loudest of all, for Luo Binghe.
He accepted it all with a modest smile, but soon excused himself.
"Ning-shijie, I’ll return to Qing Jing Peak early," he told Ning Yingying. "I’m a little tired."
She nodded. "Of course! You were amazing today, A-Luo!"
Most dismissed his early departure as understandable. He was still a growing boy, after all.
But as he turned to leave, Shen Qingqiu stood too.
"I've had enough noise for one day," he said coolly. "I’ll return as well."
Unexpected squeals of delight were heard from the Xian Shu disciples' side, while Qing Jing disciples shrugged their shoulders.
Ming Fan looked like he was about to combust.
Qi Qingqi sighed into her cup. "Hopeless."
Beside her, Liu Mingyan glanced up eagerly, taking notes.
**
They walked in silence—Shen Qingqiu ahead, Luo Binghe trailing a respectful step behind. The night air was crisp, the path lit by moonlight.
[Victory in the Demon Invasion! Increased Protagonist’s Coolness Level! +500 B-points!]
Luo Binghe beamed.
A lovely walk with his Shizun. System points. Glory.
Today really was perfect.
If only the dream event would go this well, too…
His fingers grazed the spot on his ribs where the Without a Cure poison had pierced him.
Heavenly Demon blood is so OP!
Even with his demon mark sealed, he was still immune to most poisons.
He glanced at Shen Qingqiu’s straight back.
Shizun didn’t notice anything unusual... right?
Right?
Just then, Shen Qingqiu slowed his steps. Without turning, he said, "You did well today. Handled things efficiently."
Luo Binghe’s heart leapt. "Shizun noticed?"
"Don’t fish for praise," Shen Qingqiu chided.
They walked a few more paces in silence before Shen Qingqiu spoke again.
"If the demon invasion had gone their way, and they offered you a choice…" His voice was casual, but his eyes sharp. "Whose side would you take—humans or demons?"
Luo Binghe didn’t hesitate. "Shizun’s side. Always."
Shen Qingqiu glanced back, eyebrow arched. "Not even a pause?"
"Not even a thought," Luo Binghe said, steady and sure.
Shen Qingqiu studied him for a moment, then turned away with a soft hmph. But the tension in his shoulders eased.
Luo Binghe smiled wryly, jogging a little faster to close the gap until they walked side by side.
Notes:
You can tell I'm writing for pure self-indulgence haha.
Chapter 8: My Shizun, don't let your dreams be memes
Notes:
I wanted a more serious chapter title but then this manifested in my thoughts and I couldn't come up with anything else anymore. There's a dumb grin on my face whenever I read it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Luo Binghe opened his eyes to flames.
The destructive, screaming kind that coated everything in oppressive heat. Embers swirled malevolently around him.
??? What the fuck is this dream realm!! He balked in horror and annoyance. Another foreshadowing? It's way too on the nose!!
He squinted through the fiery haze. "Ning-shijie! Are you here?"
"...Binghe?"
A voice—male, familiar—cut through the crackling roar of the fire.
Oh no.
Luo Binghe turned sharply.
And there stood Shen Qingqiu, robes pristine even in this hellfire dreamscape, hands tucked neatly behind his back like this was a surprise inspection.
Oh no. No, no, no—
In Proud Immortal Demon Way, the original goods Luo Binghe had pulled in Ning Yingying because she was "the person he trusted most". That detail had completely slipped his mind—he’d been too busy farming B-points and tracking the demon invasion to think about how the dream realm actually worked.
But this time...
Well. Ever since transmigrating, he'd done his best to avoid all the stupid romance flags the System kept lobbing at him. Ning Yingying was sweet, sure, but more like a doting older sister who alternated between feeding him snacks and bonking him on the head.
Which meant—Ah. Shit.
"…Shizun," Luo Binghe said, swallowing hard. Should I feign innocence? Yeah. That always works. "How come you're here too? Do you know where this is?"
Shen Qingqiu sighed. "It appears we’ve been dragged into a dream realm."
He turned his gaze to the fire-lit horizon. There was flicker of something pained, but it vanished before Luo Binghe could notice it.
"Most likely the revenge of those demons from the failed invasion," Shen Qingqiu continued. "To escape, the dreamer must overcome their heart demons. Otherwise, the dream will consume them."
"I’m sorry, Shizun. It’s my fault," Luo Binghe pouted. "This disciple will break the enchantment as quickly as possible. Shizun shouldn’t have to suffer this inconvenience."
Shen Qingqiu slightly arched a brow. "...How very considerate."
Was that sarcasm? Luo Binghe couldn’t tell. The heat was getting to him.
"Let's go," Shen Qingqiu said, calling for him to follow. "We'll make our way to the edge of the dream."
**
As they neared the edge and the inferno dimmed, the flames guttered out like dying breaths, giving way to a leaden sky heavy with black clouds.
The air thickened with the scent of rain and poverty. Beneath their feet, the ground turned to uneven dirt, while narrow alleys stretched between streets lined with stalls manned by faceless vendors.
Luo Binghe glanced around and nodded to himself. The original Luo Binghe was a beggar in his childhood. This makes sense.
He let out a breath of relief. He'd been highkey worried the dream realm would dredge up his past. What the hell kind of heart demon would that summon? The problems of a regular university student binge-reading webnovels at 3 AM? Pathetic.
So this was fine. Atmospheric. Kind of depressing. But fine.
Suddenly, a boy appeared before them, curled in on himself on the ground. His thin limbs twitched under the slam of a boot into his ribs. He didn’t cry out, his face buried, arms wrapped over his head to shield the vulnerable curve at the back of his skull as the kicks kept coming. Two men stood over him, one wielding a rod, the other barking orders in a distorted, guttural tongue.
Luo Binghe frowned. Tch. The first heart demon already?
He waited for something—a surge of rage, a phantom pain tightening his chest—but nothing came. He felt nothing at all.
"Hah," he muttered, tilting his head. "That’s it? This disciple must have already conquered this heart demon without realizing."
But the scene didn’t dissolve. The beating continued until one of the men finally hauled the boy up by the collar, sneering.
Then another child sprinted into the alley, small fists swinging. "Let Qi-ge go!" He lunged at the attackers with the desperate fury of someone who had nothing left to lose. The scrawny boy managed to claw one across the face before a brutal strike to the jaw sent him crashing to the ground. In an instant, he was scooped up just as roughly, and both boys were dragged away like sacks of grain.
Luo Binghe’s brow furrowed. That... wasn’t in the novel. Who were these children?
He turned to Shen Qingqiu, who stood motionless.
"Shizun, should we follow them?"
Shen Qingqiu didn’t answer. His gaze was locked on the retreating figures, body rigid, breath just slightly uneven. Luo Binghe stepped closer.
"Shizun," he said again, more firmly.
That seemed to snap him back. Shen Qingqiu began walking. "...Mn. We’ll pursue them," he said, his voice as cold and measured as ever.
But as Luo Binghe fell into step beside him, he stole a glance.
Shen Qingqiu—who hadn’t faltered once while walking through fire and brimstone—had sweat beading on his forehead.
**
They arrived before a sprawling estate. Lofty walls, ornate gates. The kind of place that screamed wealth.
Luo Binghe eyed it thoughtfully. Yes, right. In PIDW, the original Luo Binghe and his mother had served a young master in a place like this.
It made sense.
So why did Shizun look so uneasy?
He took a peek to his side. The usually impassive Shen Qingqiu had a visible wince on his face, shoulders taut beneath his robes. He was composed—but in the way a man was composed when holding his breath underwater.
"Shizun," Luo Binghe ventured, frowning. "Are you… alright?"
Shen Qingqiu exhaled slowly. "This master is merely fatigued from earlier. Do not concern yourself."
There was a strange tilt to his voice. Controlled, yet subdued.
"It's my fault for getting us trapped here." Luo Binghe's jaw clenched. "This disciple will handle the rest. We’ll be out soon."
"Wait—" Shen Qingqiu began to protest, but a sudden ripple of pain silenced him. He doubled over slightly, pressing a hand to his chest.
Luo Binghe didn’t notice. He was already striding through the gates.
The courtyard was silent. Wind stirred dead leaves across cracked stone tiles, and the wooden doors groaned as he pushed them open.
The mansion was eerily empty. Luo Binghe swept through dusty corridors and hollow rooms, irritation mounting with every step. No servants. No young master. No old washerwoman mother.
Where was the damned heart demon?
Eventually, he reached a thick wooden door tucked into the back of the estate. It was barred with a lock, though one that had long since rusted through.
This was not a door meant to lead anywhere hospitable.
Dark chains hung along the frame. The lacquer was scratched raw.
A dungeon?
Just as Luo Binghe reached for it—
"STOP!"
Shen Qingqiu’s voice cracked like a whip through the hall.
Luo Binghe turned, startled. "Shizun—?"
And froze.
What the hell—?
Shen Qingqiu had stumbled in after him, barely upright, face pale as bone. He leaned against the wall with one trembling hand, breathing ragged and uneven, sweat soaking the collar of his robes.
He didn't just look tired; he looked hollowed out, like something inside him had been cored away.
"Shizun!" Luo Binghe rushed to his side, catching him just as his knees gave out. "What’s wrong?! What’s happening?!"
Shen Qingqiu’s fingers dug into Luo Binghe’s sleeve. His eyes were fixed on that door, his expression was pure dread and something like doomed acquiescence.
A cold fury surged through Luo Binghe.
"SHOW YOURSELF!" he roared into the emptiness. "Damn Dream Demon! Face me! What have you done to Shizun?!"
The air rippled. Shadows twisted and pooled. And then, with a low, mocking chuckle, the Dream Demon Meng Mo materialized before them. In PIDW, Meng Mo had revealed himself only after the original Luo Binghe conquered his heart demons, forging a master-disciple relationship where the demon taught him to wield the power of dreams.
But this time—
How had this event gotten so messed up?
Luo Binghe glared at him, as if expecting answers. "This is my dream. Why is Shizun affected?!"
"Oh, little disciple," Meng Mo sighed, shaking his head. "Still so blind."
He gestured toward the door, lips curling into a grin. "You’ve been so focused on yourself, you never stopped to ask: whose heart demons are these, really?"
From beyond the door—screams. Not Luo Binghe’s.
Agonizing cries. Broken.
The world tilted beneath them. A nauseating weight settled in Luo Binghe's gut.
"This realm isn’t yours at all," Meng Mo said, voice rich with amusement. "It's his."
Shen Qingqiu flinched. His eyes shut tight as cruel laughter echoed from behind the door.
Luo Binghe moved to comfort him—but Shen Qingqiu was already pushing him away, staggering upright.
"Don't look," Shen Qingqiu said quietly, hand on the door. "Don’t follow. No matter what you hear, don’t come in."
"What—Shizun—"
Shen Qingqiu gave a soft, almost self-deprecating laugh. "It’s mine to face alone."
And then the door swallowed him whole.
For a moment, silence.
Luo Binghe lunged for the door, instinct screaming to kick it down—but Meng Mo blocked him with a chuckle.
"Ah-ah, young hero. Break that door, and you’ll break him. This realm is his mind, not yours. Remember?"
Fuck! Luo Binghe glowered. AAAAAA What kind of sick fucking twist was this?! The Dream Demon arc was supposed to be his trial!
And his Shizun—proud, untouchable Shen Qingqiu—how could he have made a face like that?
AIRPLANE! You damn hack! What the fuck did you write into his backstory?! Oh, when I catch you—!
He pressed his forehead to the door, fists trembling with the effort to hold back.
"What a good little disciple," Meng Mo drawled. "When your master dies in there, why not join me instead? I know your secret, kid. I can teach you to control dreams like I do."
Luo Binghe snarled. "Shut up."
He knocked lightly on the door. "You’re not alone in this," he said, voice low but firm. "I’m here. I’ll wait."
Silence.
Luo Binghe swallowed, hard. He felt stupid—but he still said it.
"Shizun, jiayou! You can do this. I believe in you!"
Meng Mo groaned in the background. "Ugh. Spare me the heartfelt declarations."
Luo Binghe raised his voice. "You’re still my Shizun! No matter what’s behind that door. I won’t leave. I won’t run. So hurry up and come back."
The dream darkened. Thunder cracked overhead, rattling the foundations. Lightning split the sky and struck the mansion—once, twice—igniting the eaves in roaring flames.
Meng Mo grinned. "Looks like he’s not going to make it."
"No," Luo Binghe said, voice unshaken. "He will."
Meng Mo lifted a brow. "So sure?"
"Of course."
A long pause. Then—
The door creaked open. Slowly, reluctantly. Light spilled through the frame—not warm, but clear. Like dawn after a storm.
Shen Qingqiu stepped out. He was pale. His eyes haunted. But his spine was straight.
He brushed past Luo Binghe without looking at him. "Luo Binghe," he said hoarsely. "You’re so loud. It’s annoying."
Luo Binghe blinked, stunned for a beat.
Then a wave of relief hit him so hard he almost fell over. His body moved without thinking—arms halfway outstretched before he caught himself. He stopped. Bowed low instead.
"This disciple… is glad Shizun is unharmed."
"Mn." Shen Qingqiu flicked his sleeve. "But we're not done yet."
Together, they turned to face Meng Mo.
The dream demon clicked his tongue and gave them a slow, unimpressed once-over. "Really, now. How boring."
With a snap of his fingers, the world lurched.
Suddenly, they stood outside. The once-majestic estate was engulfed in roaring flame, burning like a pyre. Flames clawed at the sky, devouring carved eaves and silken banners in a frenzied hunger. The air itself screamed, thick with the stench of searing flesh and wails that poured from the windows.
"You're nothing but a dog! Our family took you in, engaged you to our daughter, and this is how you repay us?!"
"A beast in silk is still a beast. Go on, show the world what kind of monster you are!"
"Oh, Jiu-er. You think ending things here will make you free? You'll never be free! You'll always be my slave!"
Winds howled, carrying the chorus of the dead. And from that chorus, more voices rose.
Shen Qingqiu stood still and let them cut him.
"I promise I'll come back for you, Xiao Jiu." A tender voice, childlike and hopeful. A lie, and the first wound.
"Worthless runt! You think you're better than me? We're both cold-blooded murderers!" A last snarl, cracked with rage, choked with blood.
"How did a street-born bastard like you cheat his way to Head Disciple? Who did you sell yourself to?"
"He crawls into brothels like he owns them. What an embarrassment to such a great sect!"
It was a maelstrom of condemnation—whispers, accusations, screams. Shen Qingqiu remembered every single one. His robes whipped in the scorching wind, embers catching like dying stars in his hair.
Small cuts bloomed across his face, his arms. He winced, but didn’t look away. He let the fire reflect in his eyes.
But he didn’t dare look at Luo Binghe.
Meng Mo's voice slithered in, curling around his ear. "Still standing, huh? Impressive. But that brave mask of yours is cracking. I see what’s underneath. You’re barely holding together."
All the voices ceased. The scenery abruptly shifted.
They were in a room now. A younger Luo Binghe knelt on the floor, Shen Qingqiu towering over him. Their first meeting.
Shen Qingqiu had meant to douse the boy with scalding tea. But then—Luo Binghe had looked up.
Eyes bright, excited, full of unguarded admiration.
"This is the one you fear the most? This little sapling?" Meng Mo chortled. "I suppose I can see it. The brat has immense potential. Give him a few years, and he’ll be more powerful than you could ever be."
Dark energy surged around Luo Binghe, his killing intent flaring. How dare this old fart use me to torment Shizun?!
He took a step forward, hands clenched at his sides, ready to strike.
Shen Qingqiu's arm lifted, barring his path.
"I told you," he said quietly, not looking at him yet, "this is my fight."
Then he turned. Finally, he looked at Luo Binghe.
His face was streaked with blood and ash, but his eyes were resolute. Shame lingered, as it always had—but beneath it was something secure.
"It's true," Shen Qingqiu said. "This brat's growth terrifies me. He’s a walking disaster more beast than human. Arrogant and presumptuous. He carries himself like he knows something I don't. I can't guess his thoughts at all."
...
"He’s the worst disciple I’ve ever had. He never listens. He does as he pleases, no matter the punishment. It’s like he enjoys suffering. Honestly, he’s a little pervert."
...
"I’ve never met anyone as strange as him. That’s for sure."
Off to the side, Luo Binghe sweat-dropped. Erm...why did this turn into a roasting of him?
Even Meng Mo looked unsure, mouth half open, clearly wondering where this was going.
"But," Shen Qingqiu continued, "without him, I would have succumbed to my heart demons long ago."
The room shattered.
The burning mansion dissolved into ash.
The fire-dream disappeared like smoke.
New visions flickered to life:
Luo Binghe trailing after him. Their bell tests. Those endless, embarrassing declarations of devotion.
"Ahem." Luo Binghe stood before the class, reading aloud:
"If Shizun has a million fans, then I am one of them.
If Shizun has ten fans, then I am one of them.
If Shizun has only one fan, then that is me.
If Shizun has no fans, then I'm no longer alive.
If the world is against Shizun, then I am against the world.
Till my last shichen, for Shen Qingqiu."Half the disciples burst into laughter. The other half groaned.
Luo Binghe stared at the flashback in horror. "You remember that??" he cringed, face flushing crimson.
The corner of Shen Qingqiu’s mouth twitched.
The vision shifted again—to the Lingxi Caves. Liu Qingge, bloody and barely conscious. When Shen Qingqiu offered his hand, the usually skeptical and proud brute took it without hesitation.
"That’s thanks to you," Shen Qingqiu murmured to Luo Binghe. "And this too."
Another scene: Shen Qingqiu with Yue Qingyuan, on the day he was finally told the truth.
"He's the Qi-ge you saw earlier. He promised to come back for me, but never did. Had you not meddled and given him useless advice, I would never have known why."
Shen Qingqiu offered him a rare smile—something fragile, something real. Luo Binghe, unable to help himself, smiled back.
The warmth of it lingered, like the echo of a bell.
Then—CLAP!
"Alright, that’s enough!" Meng Mo's voice cracked the illusion apart. The dreamscape dissolved into black, leaving only the three of them.
Luo Binghe rolled his eyes. "Oh right. You're still here."
"Your master may have conquered his heart demons, but he can’t defeat me," Meng Mo sneered. He glanced at Shen Qingqiu, defiance flaring in the man’s posture. "And what will you do? With your pathetic cultivation? Your shattered meridians?"
A dry sound escaped Shen Qingqiu. Not quite a laugh, but amused nonetheless. "Exactly. That’s why you’ll lose."
Meng Mo raised a brow.
"It’s because I’m like this that I’ve had to work harder," Shen Qingqiu said, voice calm. "I’ve been watching. Figuring out how this dream realm worked. You’ve been feeding off my qi."
"Like a parasite," Luo Binghe nodded, as if just learning it.
"A weakened parasite on a bad host," Shen Qingqiu added wryly. "My meridians are impaired. My qi is unstable. I’ve been leaking it on purpose—feeding you the worst parts. The rot. We’re both trying to destroy each other from within."
Meng Mo’s form wavered. "You got me," he said with a thin-lipped smile. "I’ve been starving since latching onto you. There’s barely anything to take."
His voice dropped to a growl. "But when you die—and you will—that final release will be enough."
Shen Qingqiu signaled Luo Binghe. "We’ll see who dies first." He flicked his fingers—a ripple of qi shot forward, forcing Meng Mo to dodge.
Luo Binghe didn’t wait. He lunged, fists wreathed in crackling energy, and drove a punch straight towards Meng Mo's form.
The dream demon twisted, but not fast enough. The blow grazed his side, tearing a snarl from his throat.
Finally! Luo Binghe's blood sang. Fighting alongside Shizun! His face contorted into a celebratory grin as he pivoted, kicking high. Meng Mo barely blocked, skidding back from the force.
"Annoying brat!" the dream demon spat. "Why cling to a master who will despise you? You’re a—"
A beam of light sliced clean through his shoulder—Shen Qingqiu’s strike.
"You talk too much," Shen Qingqiu said mildly, hand still raised in the aftermath of the blow.
Meng Mo staggered, regenerating quickly, but his eyes narrowed. "You shouldn’t be able to fight like this. This realm is mine!"
"I know," Shen Qingqiu said. "But you’re stretched too thin. You've fed on too many minds. Your control is fractured."
He turned to his disciple. "Buy me time. I can destabilize the core."
"Gladly," Luo Binghe smirked, surging forward again.
Meng Mo met him head-on. Their clash lit the dreamscape like lightning, each blow sending shockwaves through the realm. Luo Binghe fought with precision and rage, driving Meng Mo backward step by step—but it was like striking a mirage. The demon’s form rippled and distorted, retaliating with sweeping arcs of dark qi.
Gradually, something shifted. Meng Mo’s movements, once fluid as thought, carried the faintest delay. The dreamscape shuddered at his command, but its response came sluggish and disjointed. His power was faltering.
Whatever Shen Qingqiu was doing seeped into the dreamscape like a toxin, unraveling Meng Mo's dominance thread by thread.
The dream demon’s form flickered, hissing as their combined assault chipped at his control. He flung out a hand, and the dreamscape warped.
The second phase had begun.
Demonic qi erupted around them, attacking from all sides. Luo Binghe parried, ducked, countered—but even he strained under the onslaught. A slash tore through his sleeve. Another grazed his cheek. A third nearly shattered his shoulder.
And still, Luo Binghe grinned. "What's the matter? Can't keep up with a half-blood mutt?"
Meng Mo roared. His attacks doubled in speed. Shadows exploded outward from him—claws, barbed chains, shrieking specters—all converging on Luo Binghe.
Through it all, Shen Qingqiu’s eyes stayed closed. He sat in lotus position, fingers weaving precise patterns in the air, murmuring in an ancient tongue. Qi spiraled around him.
Luo Binghe gritted his teeth, his muscles burning as he deflected blow after blow.
Then, one of Meng Mo’s strikes veered suddenly, missing Luo Binghe by a hair...
...and shot straight toward Shen Qingqiu.
Luo Binghe’s heart stopped.
"Shizun—!"
Too late to intercept.
But just before the blow landed, Shen Qingqiu’s eyes snapped open.
The array beneath him pulsed white-hot. "Break." he commanded.
A detonation of pure spiritual energy cracked the dream realm like glass. White fissures split the sky, the ground, the very fabric of Meng Mo’s domain.
The dream demon convulsed, his body buckling as light speared through him, unraveling his form into ribbons of smoke and ash.
"No! This isn’t possible!" he howled. "A great demon elder, defeated by a weakling—!"
Luo Binghe’s boot slammed into the last of his fading essence.
"Shut the hell up!" he snarled. "Even in your dying breath you still dare badmouth Shizun?!"
Meng Mo’s final wail tore through the air and vanished, his remains scattering like burnt paper on the wind.
Silence fell.
The dream realm shuddered; its oppressive weight lifting as the last of the demonic energy bled away. Shen Qingqiu exhaled, lowering his hand. "Is it gone?"
Luo Binghe swept the area with his qi and nodded. "No trace left. We’re clear."
Only then did Shen Qingqiu relax, just barely. "Good. It's time we wake up."
"This disciple will see you on the other side, Shizun." Luo Binghe smiled. "I’ll bring breakfast."
Shen Qingqiu gave him a long, tired look. "Don’t. This master wants to rest. Tell Ming Fan I won’t be accepting visitors for the next three days."
Before Luo Binghe could protest, Shen Qingqiu shut his eyes.
The dream fell away.
***
Luo Binghe gasped awake. Dull morning light filtered through the windows of the disciple dorms.
[Hidden Achievement Unlocked: "Crane in the Slums" – Uncovered hidden backstory. +200 B-points.]
Oh?
[Violation: Major Plot Deviation of the Dream Demon Enchantment Arc. -500 B-points.]
Oh.
[Dear protagonist, you've derailed a major story arc and destroyed the dream powers acquisition route (˃̣̣̥ヘ˂̣̣̥)]
Luo Binghe sighed and dismissed the notifications. A net loss of 300, huh? He lounged back, fingers laced behind his head, one knee propped up lazily. Not too bad, considering I lost the dream powers entirely.
His brows furrowed in a frown. Shizun... endured so much.
It shouldn’t have been revealed like that. I shouldn’t have seen it like that.
A twinge of guilt tightened in his chest.
How the hell did the storyline change this drastically?
Again, in PIDW, the original goods Luo Binghe had pulled in Ning Yingying because she was the one he trusted most.
But this time... it was him.
Shen Qingqiu who—
…
Wait.
Wait!
The one who had the dream… was Shen Qingqiu.
He pulled me in his dream. Shen Qingqiu's dream realm.
Which meant—
Luo Binghe bolted upright, face and ears flushing deep red.
...HUH?!
Notes:
Did you like the twist? ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭ I chuckled like a villain when I thought of it.
In case you need an actual explanation for how SQQ is able to pull LBH into his dream realm: It could be a strong cultivator’s spiritual defense mechanism. Or perhaps SQQ’s psyche called for LBH, and as the protagonist, he instinctively responded using latent dream powers. Or maybe that's just how the dream realm works in this au. ie., it responds to need, not power (I think I like this one the most).
I can make up a dozen reasons for why anything’s possible in a xianxia setting haha ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ᗜ<)
Chapter Text
In the lecture hall of Qing Jing Peak, dozens of disciples sat in perfect rows, backs straight, uniforms immaculate. At the front, Shen Qingqiu completed the final stroke of a character on silk parchment.
"The Four Arts are not mere decoration for a scholar," he said, setting the brush aside. "To write, to play, to compose—none of these are distractions. A true master balances the sword with the guqin, mind with body. The brush tempers the blade."
A hand shot up from the back.
"Shizun, which do you think is more important—the brush or the blade?"
Several disciples stifled sighs.
It was Luo Binghe.
Of course.
Shen Qingqiu tilted his head, gaze steady. "What do you think, Binghe?"
Luo Binghe leaned forward, chin propped on one hand, as if deep in thought.
"The blade," he said after a beat.
"Why?"
"Because I can kill demons and beasts with it."
Some disciples rolled their eyes and looked away, choosing to ignore him.
Fwish! With a flick of the wrist, Shen Qingqiu's fan shot across the room and smacked Luo Binghe squarely between the eyes with a satisfying thwack, leaving a faint red mark.
"Lacking discipline as usual," Shen Qingqiu chided dryly.
Luo Binghe didn’t flinch—just grinned. He caught the fan as it fell and lobbed it back. Shen Qingqiu snatched it midair without looking.
"The sword's harm is plain to see," Shen Qingqiu continued. "But a corrupt brush hides malice behind beauty. When a student learns to hold a brush steady, he learns restraint. When he studies virtue, he begins to recognize depravity."
Luo Binghe hummed. "But what if he only becomes better at pretending?"
The air grew taut. Even the most bored disciples looked up.
Shen Qingqiu's gaze sharpened. "Then he was never a scholar to begin with—only a fraud." He tapped the fan against his palm. "You speak of killing demons and beasts, Binghe. Tell me, if a man kills in the name of justice, is he righteous? Or simply skilled at killing?"
"He could be both," Luo Binghe said.
"And if he slays without thought?"
"Then he’s no different from the beast he kills."
Shen Qingqiu's expression didn’t change, but the fan stilled in his hand. "Precisely," he said, voice cool.
Luo Binghe hesitated. "But what if he had no choice?" he followed up, his tone softer now, more careful. "What if he wanted to be something else?"
Feigned curiosity.
"The man or the beast?" Shen Qingqiu scoffed.
A helpless smile played on Luo Binghe’s lips as he shrugged.
Shen Qingqiu flicked his fan open, its soft gust ruffling the silk parchment, unsettling the still-wet ink on the page. "...Intent is not enough to absolve harm."
"Then what does?"
"Change," Shen Qingqiu said, watching him closely. "A beast that chooses mercy is no longer just a beast."
Luo Binghe gave a slow nod, his fingers curling loosely in his lap. "This disciple understands. I will remember it."
And he hoped Shen Qingqiu would remember this lesson too.
When the time comes.
***
Luo Binghe had 10,000 B-points.
Ten-thousand. A nice, clean round number.
Which was exactly why he refused—absolutely refused—to be tempted while scrolling through the System Shop.
► Dream Big! Expansion
► Companion Summon (Mysterious Egg Variant)
► Inventory Upgrade: Pocket Dimension
► Harem Slot +20
His eye twitched.
Fuck! These items were too good. So tempting. (Minus that last one, obviously.)
He tore his gaze away and swiped the shimmering System interface closed.
10,000 B-points. A sizeable fortune, but still not enough for the items he really needed.
He didn’t dare waste a single point.
...
Five seconds later, his foot was tapping. His fingers drumming. The urge to buy something itched.
He flung the door open.
Gotta go see Ning-shijie.
**
With Shen Qingqiu's permission, Luo Binghe, Ning Yingying, and a handful of disciples were granted leave to visit the nearby town and restock supplies.
Finally!
Luo Binghe strolled through the market like a man with far too much money and far too little self-control. No need to hoard B-points here—he indulged freely, relishing the novelty.
First, a delicate folding fan with bamboo motifs. Perfect for Ning Yingying, who beamed as soon as she saw it.
"It looks just like Shizun's!" she exclaimed, flicking it open with mimicked grace. "I love it, thank you!"
He smiled. "I'm glad Shijie likes it."
Next, a box of peach candies—some for the local children who clustered around him with wide eyes, and some for the coquettish ladies who lingered a little too close, batting their lashes.
"Aiyah, such a sweet young master," one teased, leaning in. "Do you give candy to all the girls?"
"This one is happy to share," Luo Binghe said with easy charm.
Ning Yingying giggled behind her fan. "Oh, A-Luo, you’re too kind! They’ll never let you leave if you keep spoiling them."
"Hmph!"
An agitating, grating voice cut in. Ming Fan.
"Look at you, spending money like some spoiled young master!" he fumed. He wanted to be the one making Ning Yingying laugh like that!
Luo Binghe gave him a serene smile. "Would Shixiong like a gift too?"
"AS IF I WOULD—"
"Here.” Luo Binghe tossed a cheap wooden comb at him. "For your many hairs."
Ming Fan caught it on reflex, then turned red with rage as the other disciples burst into laughter.
**
On their way back to Qing Jing Peak, the group kept teasing him.
"Aiyah, Luo-shidi, all those women were asking about you!" one disciple snickered.
Another elbowed him. "Buying Ying-er a fan, giving half a box of sweets away to the girls in town. Who taught you to be such a ladies’ man? Did you learn that on the streets too?"
Luo Binghe chuckled, shaking his head. "Just being polite."
Unbeknownst to them, Shen Qingqiu had been taking a quiet evening stroll—his path coinciding with the disciples’ return just as the sun dipped below the horizon.
He paused, hidden by the shadows of the bamboo, listening.
Luo Binghe bought Ning Yingying a fan?
And he was handing out candy to women in town?
His fingers tightened around his own fan.
…How shameless. Flirting so openly, spoiling others with gifts—was this how his disciple behaved when he wasn’t watching?
The thought was petty, but it sat in his chest like a sour plum.
Before his irritation could spiral further, Luo Binghe’s gaze suddenly snapped toward him—as if sensing his presence even in the dark.
The boy’s smile dimmed the stars above.
"Shizun!"
The other disciples scrambled to follow suit. "Shizun!" they chorused, bowed, and then immediately scattered like rabbits toward the dorms, leaving Luo Binghe alone.
He stepped forward, presenting a small offering.
"This disciple wished to give something to Shizun," he said.
Shen Qingqiu glanced down. It was a silk ribbon, pale green and delicate, nearly the same shade as the robes he favored. So thoughtful it bordered on infuriating.
He narrowed his eyes. "…Why are you buying me things?"
Luo Binghe’s smile didn’t waver. "The one Shizun uses now is… kind of dull. This one might suit you better." He hesitated, then added softly, "I wanted to get something finer, but this was what I could afford for now."
With careful fingers, he laid the ribbon in Shen Qingqiu’s palm.
Shen Qingqiu’s lips thinned. He hadn’t even realized he’d opened his hand. When had—? A refusal rose to his tongue, but Luo Binghe bowed hastily before he could speak.
"Ah, curfew! This disciple will take his leave now!"
And just like that, he turned and rushed off—almost rudely.
Shen Qingqiu stared after him, long accustomed to this particular brand of dramatic retreat.
Fine. He glanced at the ribbon, weighed it briefly in his hand. Then, with a small huff, he slipped it into his sleeve.
Far ahead, Luo Binghe walked alone under the lantern light, the night air cool against his skin.
The thought of Shen Qingqiu keeping the ribbon made his chest flutter in a strange, giddy way.
He smiled to himself.
"Ahhh, retail therapy. The best kind of therapy."
***
Luo Binghe had finally come of age.
After years of being everyone’s shidi, he now stood at the summit of their ranks—a full-fledged cultivator, and the newly named head disciple of Qing Jing Peak.
Today, he had claimed Zheng Yang from Wan Jian Peak.
Zheng Yang.
The moment Luo Binghe laid eyes on the sword, he knew it was the one.
It gleamed with sacred light, bright as a moonlit snowfield. Lean, elegant, and deadly, the blade thrummed faintly with spiritual energy even at rest in his grip. Xin Mo would one day eclipse it—but for now, among his generation, Zheng Yang was unmatched.
Holy shit. An actual spiritual sword.
My own spiritual sword!
Luo Binghe couldn't stop grinning.
"Zheng Yang," he whispered to it, pressing a quick kiss to the cool metal. "Don’t worry. I won’t let you break, either."
Around him, Qing Jing Peak’s disciples offered their congratulations; some genuine, others tinged with envy.
"Head Disciple Luo truly is blessed by the heavens," said one, bowing slightly.
"Congratulations, Luo-shixiong!"
Ming Fan was still sulking over his demotion, grumbling under his breath, until Ning Yingying elbowed him into silence.
Even Shen Qingqiu made a show of stepping forward, arms folded in his usual stern fashion.
Luo Binghe straightened, Zheng Yang held proudly at his side. "Shizun! This disciple wishes to express his gratitude for your guidance."
“Hm. And how do you plan to do that?” Shen Qingqiu asked, raising an eyebrow.
Luo Binghe beamed. "By requesting a Bell Test!"
A beat of silence.
Then, from the back:
"Someone call a disciple from Qian Cao Peak."
"I'll go prep the clinic."
"Get the medical supplies ready."
Everyone already knew how this was going to end.
**
Shen Qingqiu stepped lightly through the forest, the silver bells at his waist chiming with each careful step.
He exhaled, long and measured, adjusting his grip on Xiu Ya’s hilt. Luo Binghe had only possessed Zheng Yang for a few hours, but he wasn’t taking chances. A spiritual sword amplified its master tenfold—and that boy had always been full of surprises.
"You're the one who requested this test," Shen Qingqiu called out, taunting. "So why are you hiding?"
No answer.
As a small concession—a treat, really—he’d given Luo Binghe a head start of a single ke’s time. Long enough to set up a decent ambush, short enough that he wouldn’t get too far. Not that it mattered. How many more of these games could he indulge?
Luo Binghe would beat him soon enough.
An hour passed. A third lap around the mountain’s edge, and still no sign of the brat.
"He couldn’t have left," Shen Qingqiu muttered.
Luo Binghe was cunning, yes—but was he shameless enough to abandon the test entirely? To leave his master wandering around like a fool?
Unacceptable.
With a frustrated hiss, Shen Qingqiu unsheathed Xiu Ya. "If he’s run off, I’ll have him tied to the training post and whipped until—"
A memory cut through his fury: Luo Binghe’s face, lit with unfiltered joy when Shen Qingqiu had granted his request.
The sword slid back into its sheath with a click.
"Two more hours," he muttered to the trees. "If he doesn’t show by then—"
A rustle. Not from the branches.
Below.
Shen Qingqiu barely had time to react before strong arms grabbed him around the waist and yanked him down.
"Shizun!" came Luo Binghe’s delighted voice, right by his ear. "I’ve got you! And the bells!"
Luo Binghe shot up from the dirt, triumphant, caked in mud and leaves, a small bundle of bells jingling brightly in his fingers.
"Bet you didn’t think I’d hide underground," he grinned.
But Shen Qingqiu couldn't see him. He'd wrenched himself away, heart hammering. His breath caught on panic.
Too close. Too sudden. Hands—on him—
"You—!"
Xiu Ya flashed, slicing through the air with lethal intent.
Luo Binghe ducked, wide-eyed. "Whoa! Wait—Shizun—!"
Another swing. "Stay back!" Shen Qingqiu’s voice cracked. His knuckles were white around the hilt.
Luo Binghe raised his arms in surrender. "I'm not moving. I won't touch you again."
Silence.
Shen Qingqiu didn’t lower the sword. Not right away.
The forest around them stilled. Dirt clung to Shen Qingqiu's robes. To both of them. Luo Binghe stood disheveled, frozen, shoulders locked tight.
Then—slowly, Shen Qingqiu straightened his posture. His face settled into a mask of ice.
"That was... unsightly. For a master." He forced Xiu Ya into its sheath.
"Shizun—"
"Don’t." His tone was firm. "No apologies. I won’t hear them."
Luo Binghe let his arms fall, but didn’t move. The bells lay warm and small in his palm.
He wasn’t proud. Not of the win, not of the bells.
And certainly not of the look on Shen Qingqiu’s face.
I should have known better.
Shen Qingqiu exhaled, keeping his voice steady. "You hid Zheng Yang elsewhere. Part of your strategy?"
Luo Binghe blinked. Ah. "Yes. I thought Shizun would be wary of Zheng Yang's spiritual essence, so... I left it behind and buried myself instead. If you couldn’t sense me, you’d assume I was gone."
A faint scoff. "Dirty, but effective." A pause. "…It’s something I would’ve done."
Luo Binghe’s chest ached. Praise, but at what cost?
"You’ve won," Shen Qingqiu added, quieter still. "State your request when we return." He turned away, robes sweeping the dust. "We've delayed enough. There's still the Immortal Alliance Conference to prepare for."
Luo Binghe’s grip on the bells tightened. He'd already known long before what he’d wish for.
"...Yes, Shizun." He bowed deeply, the weight of the coming days pressing down on him.
This sucks. He didn’t want to prepare for the damn Conference. He didn’t want to descend from this mountain at all—especially not like this, with that awful look carved into Shen Qingqiu’s expression.
He dragged his feet, each step heavier than the last. When a loose pebble caught underfoot, he kicked it hard, watching it skitter away.
Ahead, Shen Qingqiu paused. Without turning, he flicked his sleeve. "Luo Binghe."
The sound of his name, spoken without irritation (for once?), snapped him to attention.
Then, softer: "Keep up."
The bells chimed between them as Luo Binghe hurried forward.
Notes:
Death, taxes, and SVSSS readers dreading the Immortal Alliance Conference. This is officially the halfway point of this fic. Get ready for the wild ride I'm taking you all on with me ψ(｀∇´)ψ
This update took forever coz I went on a long vacation touring around Mongolia, Vietnam, Cambodia, and Malaysia. Thanks for all the kudos and comments!
Hehe I reread A Bloody Mess (link below) the other day and added the Dream Big! Expansion as a lil reference.
Chapter 10: My Shizun, how about some me-burgers?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Excited whispers rippled through the Qing Jing Peak disciples gathered at the mountain’s foot, their fresh robes glowing pale gold under the morning sun.
For many, this was their first glimpse of a legendary event—the Immortal Alliance Conference, where the best of their generation would clash and prove themselves.
The carriage stood ready, lacquered panels gleaming, curtains veiling the Peak Lord within. Horses stamped against the packed earth as disciples shifted restlessly, anticipation thick in the air.
Luo Binghe held the lead, mounted at the front with a composure that belied the excitement around him.
Once a boy, now a youth who drew eyes wherever he went: tall, broad-shouldered, sitting straight and sure in the saddle. His steed, a white horse fit for any noble, moved with a powerful gait. Against the clear sky and in his crisp robes, he looked every inch the young hero.
The Qing Jing Peak disciples exchanged glances of pride, nudging each other as if to say: That’s our head disciple.
Luo Binghe turned, seeking his master’s gaze. Through the parted curtain, Shen Qingqiu regarded him with his usual cool expression, then inclined his head once in approval.
That was all it took.
Luo Binghe drew a deep breath, reined his horse to face the cohort, and raised a hand. The party fell silent at once.
"Martial brothers and sisters!" His voice cut through the stamp of hooves and the whisper of wind. He swept his gaze over their eager faces, a charismatic leader perfectly playing his part. "I see in your eyes the same fire that burns in mine! You ask me, Shixiong, what awaits us at the Immortal Alliance Conference?"
He let the silence stretch.
"I tell you this: the chance to prove yourselves! To seize glory for our peak, for Cang Qiong Mountain sect!"
A collective shiver ran through the crowd. Luo Binghe’s voice softened to an intimate, fervent pitch, thrumming with conviction.
"Today we ride not as nameless cultivators, but as representatives of Qing Jing Peak—refined in mind, sharp in sword, unmatched in bearing! Ahead of us, the greatest sects of our time will gather. Countless eyes will judge us. Some may scorn us. But remember this—" He spread his arm wide, his voice carrying like a vow. "They may doubt us. They may oppose us. They may test our resolve. But THEY WILL NEVER BREAK OUR SPIRIT!"
Thunderous applause broke out. Some disciples laughed, others pumped their fists or brandished swords, their exuberant shouts rising. They were ready to charge into the Endless Abyss itself if he led the way.
From the carriage, Shen Qingqiu allowed himself the barest sigh. A bit grandiose for a simple send-off, he thought. Still, he couldn’t deny the speech’s effect.
Luo Binghe turned back toward the mountain path, his smile bright as the morning sun. Inside, however, his thoughts twisted with private misery.
Oh my god. I full-on Braveheart-ed them.
He shook his head slightly, his mood curdling into something far less heroic:
Man, I really don’t want to fucking do this!!
He'd done everything he could to prepare, of course. And he was nothing if not resilient. But ancient China xianxia was one thing; the Endless Abyss was a survival hellscape of a completely different genre.
It was probably possible to wriggle his way out of the destined plunge—there were loopholes, detours, plot contrivances aplenty. But… he wanted Xin Mo. Needed to confirm something with it.
And so he invested in the essentials, finally caving and buying a mini-pocket dimension from the System store: a small silk-woven pouch, hidden against his chest. The purchase had cost a nauseating sum of B-points, but no matter. He had around 13,000 B-points left—the exact amount he needed for the Endless Abyss.
Surely, after his deeds at the Conference, his points would only go up from here. Right?
The pouch could hold a surprising amount, but the real problem was content. There was only so much dried meat, rice, and medicinal herbs a head disciple could sneak from the kitchens or purchase in town without raising eyebrows. It was enough for months, maybe half a year of extreme rationing, but still a pittance compared to the years the Abyss supposedly demanded.
His focus then turned to research. Demonic beasts, plants, foraging. The old survival manual of xianxia: memorize everything and hope you don’t die. He filled his nights with frantic notes, recipes, emergency plans, and dietary contingencies.
Outside the library, disciples murmured to each other in admiration:
"Head Disciple Luo is in there again."
"Studying till the third watch—what dedication!"
"A true role model. No wonder Shizun favors him."
Inside, Luo Binghe was hunched over a scroll so brittle it threatened to disintegrate at his touch. No one had opened it in centuries, he was sure.
Sun-Moon Dew Mushroom? That sounds familiar.
The brush dangled from his mouth as he jotted notes on a separate sheet, absentmindedly chewing the handle.
A flesh plant used to grow a spare body in case of death... Pff, cute. Too bad I don’t need it.
He squinted at the sketch, tilting his head. What if I harvest it... for meat?
His thoughts spiraled.
What would it taste like? Since it’s sustained by my own spirit, would it taste like... me? A sudden, hysterical image flashed in his mind: a sizzling patty made of savory mushroom-flesh, placed between two buns.
"Me-burgers," he muttered under his breath. Then, the sheer absurdity of it hit him so hard he let out a sudden, manic snort. Mmm I love my me-burgers. He clapped a hand over his mouth too late, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
A voice, smooth and chilly, cut in behind him: "Luo Binghe."
He whipped around so fast he nearly broke his neck. "Shizun!" Luo Binghe shot to his feet, bowing deeply. "Forgive this disciple’s rudeness."
Shen Qingqiu gave him a cool glance and a curt nod before gliding past him toward the shelves. Luo Binghe sat back down, relief loosening his shoulders—only for the ridiculous thought to come back, full force.
Would it be fucked up if I fed Shizun one of those? His lips twitched. ‘Shizun, how about some me-burgers?’
That image did him in. He burst into another choked laugh, muffled but still echoing off the stone shelves.
Smack!
A book came down hard against the top of his head. Luo Binghe yelped, looking up to find Shen Qingqiu standing right beside him, holding the offending tome with one elegant hand.
"…Shizun!" he whined, rubbing his skull.
"Quiet, you!" Shen Qingqiu said, though his eyes flicked over Luo Binghe’s scrawled notes. After a pause, he added coolly, "So you fear death after all. That's good."
Without waiting for a reply, he took a seat opposite and opened his tome, settling into his reading completely at ease as if he belonged there. A goofy smile spread over Luo Binghe's face; he marveled at the naturalness of it all, feeling both chastised and strangely seen.
Now, back on his galloping white steed, Luo Binghe shrugged his shoulders slightly at the memory. Too bad it takes years to cultivate a single mushroom body. It was a fun thought, but far too inefficient. He’d scrapped the idea.
After a brief but pointed exchange between Shen Qingqiu and Qi Qingqi, the joined parties of Qing Jing and Xian Shu Peaks finally set out.
Traveling with a peak full of illustrious female cultivators wasn’t the worst arrangement. The scenery was certainly more pleasant—and one figure in particular stood out.
"Luo-shixiong."
Her voice was cool and clear, like a mountain stream flowing over smooth stones. Even among Xian Shu Peak’s famed beauties, Liu Mingyan was the most striking—and the most formidable.
[Dear protagonist, please use this chance to get closer with one of your future wives~!] the System chimed brightly.
Luo Binghe inwardly rolled his eyes but reined his horse to a slower trot, allowing her to catch up.
"Shimei," he greeted with a polite smile. "Is the journey treating you well so far?"
"Well enough," she replied, her eyes—the only feature visible above her veil—crinkling slightly. "I hear you’ve been spending your nights in the library. Reading survival manuals, is that right?"
"Ah… word gets around."
She tilted her head. "I’m curious, are you studying because you expect danger at the Conference?"
"It’s better to be prepared," Luo Binghe replied smoothly. He didn’t mind her questions; he preferred light conversation that required little thought. Still, he could sense other disciples’ glances, whispering, nudging—already misreading the interaction.
Liu Mingyan seemed unbothered. Her voice dropped, teasing, "Or perhaps you’re hoping to impress a certain someone with your discipline?"
The corners of Luo Binghe’s mouth twitched. Not you, Shimei, sorry. Aloud, he answered evenly, "If my Shizun notices, I won’t complain."
She gave a soft, genuine laugh.
To any observer, they made a picture of budding romance—Liu Mingyan leaning slightly closer, Luo Binghe responding with ready smiles, their horses keeping pace side by side.
Then—tap.
A sharp knock sounded from the carriage behind them.
Luo Binghe was there in an instant, guiding his horse neatly alongside as the curtain lifted to reveal Shen Qingqiu’s impeccably bored and slightly irritated face.
"Shizun," Luo Binghe said, beaming. "Did you need something? Snacks? A drink? Or perhaps… a massage?"
A snort. "Save your quips. It’s Qi-shimei who keeps begging for snacks. Her stomach’s making noises loud enough to scare the birds from the trees."
Luo Binghe didn't even blink. "Of course, Shizun." His hand dipped into his robes and emerged with a small, exquisitely carved wooden box. He passed it through the window. "Assorted dried fruits and sweetened nuts. These should suffice."
Shen Qingqiu accepted it, his slender fingers brushing his disciple’s for the briefest moment. "…You always have things like this at hand," he remarked dryly.
"I have a lot of pockets."
With an eye-roll, Shen Qingqiu flicked the curtain shut.
Chuckling, Luo Binghe turned his horse back to Liu Mingyan, his spirits lighter than they’d been all day.
"My apologies, Liu-shimei," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "Shizun required my assistance."
Liu Mingyan's eyes were fixed on him, sparkling with undisguised delight.
"Think nothing of it, Luo-shixiong," she replied. "Your devotion is… truly remarkable. A subject worthy of deep study." She had already pulled out a small notebook and a sliver of charcoal from her sleeve and was scribbling quickly.
***
The arrival of Cang Qiong Mountain sect was nothing short of a spectacle.
Ceremonial banners unfurled at the entrance to Jue Di Gorge, embroidered silk snapping in the wind. Their entourage flowed forward like a river of color—disciples in crisp formation, carriages gleaming, their presence carrying the weight of the mountains themselves.
Qing Jing Peak’s green-and-white robes stood out in the procession, a living grove of cultivated grace. Whispers trailed in their wake, and every eye turned toward the new arrivals.
And leading them, the undeniable focal point: Luo Binghe. With a charming, offhand wave, he set the crowd aflutter, inspiring giggles and blushes hidden behind fans.
When the formalities ended, the disciples were granted only a brief, frantic moment to orient themselves before the competition began. Amidst the bustle, Luo Binghe found his master, who had already withdrawn to a quiet spot apart from the throng.
"They’re not even giving us time to breathe," Luo Binghe sighed, moving to his side. "Straight to fighting. Not even a meal first."
"Spare me the complaints," Shen Qingqiu said, fanning himself. "You are, perhaps aside from myself, the most prepared person here. Don’t insult us both by pretending otherwise."
A slow smile tugged at Luo Binghe’s lips. "Then Shizun should just relax and enjoy the show. I hear the viewing dais has crystal mirrors linked to spirit eagles. A clearer view than any... anything I've ever seen!" He barely avoided saying 4k drone footage.
He leaned in a fraction, his tone shifting into something more intimate. "Will Shizun bet on me? Place your faith in your head disciple?"
Shen Qingqiu arched a brow, the faintest concession to amusement. "And if you lose? Am I meant to suffer the humiliation alongside you?"
Undeterred, Luo Binghe laughed under his breath. "If I win, Shizun... remember, you already owe me a wish." He slipped a hand into his sleeve and produced the small string of bells, the ones he’d claimed from Shen Qingqiu’s own game. "If I win again, maybe you’ll consider it two?"
He held Shen Qingqiu’s gaze, not as a disciple to a master, but with a direct, knowing intensity that made the noise of the Conference fade into a distant hum.
For two heartbeats, Shen Qingqiu was perfectly still. His eyes flicked from the bells to Luo Binghe’s face before snapping his fan shut with a sharp crack.
"Don’t get ahead of yourself, Binghe. Go. Don’t embarrass my peak." He turned away, a dismissive wave of his hand, neck red, muttering, "One victory, and he thinks he can bargain for more…"
Luo Binghe bowed his head in mock solemnity, though the curve of his smile lingered. Slipping the bells back into his sleeve, he brushed his fingers over them, as if to reassure himself.
The thought was a sharp, focused point in his mind: Let this promise ring truer than any bell.
***
And they were off.
Multiple groups entered the valley at once, a clash of distinctive uniforms and drawn swords spilling into the treacherous terrain.
The rules were simple: kill a demonic beast, claim a prayer bead, and thread it onto the golden cord at your wrist. One hundred varieties, five thousand beasts. Some beads held enough qi to tip the scales instantly; others weren't worth the trouble of prying from a carcass.
Luo Binghe slid effortlessly between disciples, eyes narrowing. The low-tier beasts near the entrance are a waste of time. Their beads barely hold a trickle of energy. The real prizes lie deeper in—the Frost-Toothed Saberwolves, the Ember-Tailed Scorpions… and the crown jewel, the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python.
That beast alone would set him far above the competition, no matter how many lesser beads the others hoarded.
He could afford to be patient. The main battle was weeks away. For now, he would simply—
[Congratulations, dear protagonist! Today is finally the day! Your long-awaited turning point! ※\(^o^)/※]
[The Conference arc is the launchpad of two major plotlines: (1) unlocking your sealed demonic bloodline, and (2) recruiting your first harem member. Please look forward to it!]
Luo Binghe’s step faltered; a twig snapped beneath his boot. "...Absolutely not." His voice was a low growl. The System’s chirpy intrusion grated against his concentration. He had no interest in its “milestones.”
Perhaps he could simply avoid the girl altogether.
He rounded a thick, gnarled oak—and there she was.
...
Qin Wanyue, her yellow robes a stark contrast to the earthy tones of the forest, was fending off a trio of shrieking, monkey-like creatures with wild sweeps of her sword. As if sensing a shift in the air, she glanced over her shoulder.
Her eyes widened. "Luo Binghe?"
Fuck.
He swallowed a sigh before it could surface. In a single, fluid motion, he drew Zheng Yang and unleashed a crescent wave of pure spiritual energy that obliterated the three creatures into motes of dissipating darkness.
Three dull, grey prayer beads clattered to the forest floor. He didn't even glance at them.
Qin Wanyue panted slightly as she steadied herself, then gave a quick bow. "This one thanks Luo-ge for his aid." Straightening, she offered a small, hesitant smile, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "I… I’ve heard of you."
Luo Binghe sheathed his sword, his expression one of polite, detached boredom. "Oh? And what have you heard?" He expected the usual. The prodigy of Qing Jing Peak. The one to watch at this Conference.
She bit her lip, both nervous and impressed. "They say you’re the most fiercely loyal disciple in Cang Qiong sect. That the Qing Jing Peak Lord must keep you on a very short leash, or else you’ll bite anyone who so much as looks at him wrong."
Her blush deepened, her expression utterly sincere. "Some disciples call you ‘Shen Qingqiu’s Bingpup.’"
...
**
High on the viewing dais, Shen Qingqiu sat among the leaders of the great sects, sipping an exquisite cup of ginseng tea.
The crystal mirror before him displayed a clear, if slightly warped, image of his head disciple speaking to a Huan Hua Palace girl. He watched with mild interest as Luo Binghe dispatched the beasts in effortless fashion, raising his porcelain cup again.
And then, carried perfectly by the audio array, came a young woman’s voice:
"‘Shen Qingqiu’s Bingpup.’"
"Pfft—!"
A spray of tea misted the air. Shen Qingqiu choked, shoulders jerking. Every peak lord and sect leader within ten meters turned to stare.
Beside him, Yue Qingyuan leaned over. "Qingqiu? Is something the matter?"
"Perfectly fine," Shen Qingqiu replied, his voice glacially composed. "The tea was slightly too hot."
**
Back in the gorge, Luo Binghe recovered from his shock. Color touched his ears, then he huffed a laugh, unable to help himself. Shen Qingqiu's Bingpup? He filed that away for later.
"That's what they say, huh?" His tone dropped low and easy as he stepped closer. Qin Wanyue’s breath caught, her gaze dropping to the ground between them. "Then perhaps this 'pup' should escort you. The inner valleys are too dangerous for a lone disciple."
All I need to do is avoid the attack. Prevent her from getting poisoned.
Easy-peasy.
Notes:
Me-burgers bit is from Andy Weir's Project Hail Mary. Very good read.
I'm a damn liar coz I wanted to finish both my ongoing fics before Shen Jiu day but life really gets in the way huh (っ- ‸ - ς)
The next chapter is gonna be nuts but I gotta write my SJ month fics first ᕕ( ՞ ᗜ ՞ )ᕗ Four new fics soontm.
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