Chapter Text
Screams echo through the forest, accompanied by the ring of scraping metal. Luo Binghe counts the seconds in his head, his pace unhurried even as the stench of blood permeates the air. Sha Hualing’s Poison Eating Stone Serpents perform admirably; strong enough to back the Huan Hua disciples into a corner with no hope of victory, but not powerful enough to simply kill them outright. It wouldn’t do for them to die before he makes his entrance.
In his palm, Xin Mo sings, eager to begin the feast.
Soon, he promises.
“Lan-Shidi!” A desperate voice cries. That’s his cue.
Luo Binghe leaps onto a branch, propelling himself into the battlefield from above. The moon illuminates him as he descends from the sky like an immortal, sword decapitating the snake before it could sink its fangs into an injured disciple. Several gasps and awed exclamations erupt from the disciples. Movements flowing from one sword form to the next, all power and liquid grace, Luo Binghe kills the remaining four serpents, each blow targeting the mark at the back of the head, obscuring their demonic origin. He turns to the disciples and asks after their well-being. The concern is practiced, softened by just the right tremor of sincerity.
“Are you alright?”
“Mn, thanks to you!” A young lady flutters her eyelashes, peach colored lips curling into a grateful smile. Her ornate pink robes stand apart from the sea of gold around her, and with the whip at her side, Luo Binghe knows this can be no other than the Little Palace Mistress. He returns the gesture with a smile of his own. It’s a slow, deliberate thing with his dimples on full display. People trust dimples.
“To whom do we owe our thanks?” Another beauty asks, stepping in front of the others and earning a scowl from the girl in pink.
“This one is Luo Binghe. Just a mere wandering cultivator hoping to provide assistance. Might this one be so bold as to ask whom he has the pleasure of speaking with?” He lowers his eyes in a show of humility that they eat right up. The girls coo, gathering around him. Some of the boys glare with jealousy or envy, while others stand in awe.
“What were those things…?” One girl asks, nudging a corpse with her foot.
“Who cares!?” Demands another, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
Luo Binghe turns to the girl in pink, “If this one is not mistaken, perhaps they are Sunstone snakes.” He wrinkles his brow slightly, enough to imply confusion without unattractively scrunching up his handsome features. “Though it’s unusual to see them above ground. Have there been any earthquakes or other strange phenomena lately?”
“There was a minor earthquake two days ago…”
“Yeah! Now that you mention it, this could’ve displaced them.”
The Huan Hua disciples accept his explanation readily, as they should.
“No, that’s not it.” The voice isn’t spoken loudly, yet everyone turns to stare at the speaker. He’s tall, taller than even Luo Binghe, with dark hair cascading down his back, save for the strands pulled back to stay out of his face. He’s handsome, Luo Binghe notes in a detached way. His sword is simple: silver, with a small jade dangling from a yellow tassel tied to the hilt. It isn’t until he spots the golden insignia tied to his belt that Binghe recognizes him for who he is: Huan Hua’s head disciple.
“Pardon?” Luo Binghe asks, widening his eyes and tilting his head slightly. His voice is soft, conveying an innocent confusion. The head disciple, infuriatingly enough, doesn’t seem to notice, too busy kneeling and examining the carcass before him.
“Sunstone serpents live exclusively in volcanoes; their hard gem-like scales protect them from the lava. Their heads are wide and flat; better for burrowing. These snakes, although the right size and color, have more pointed heads. Interestingly, their scales seem to have various “rock-veins” as a part of their camouflage- a characteristic not found in sunstone serpents. And even with the earthquake bringing underground creatures to the surface, the nearest volcano is three days away by sword, how could they have come all this way in just two by crawling?”
Luo Binghe lowers his head in deference, expression betraying none of his internal seething. Had he been found out so soon? How!? Huan Hua Palace was known for its expertise in barriers, security, and interrogation, not beasts.
“Shixiong is well-learned,” He says smoothly. Their head disciple is not to be taken lightly. Not if he hoped to usurp his place. “This one will strive to match his senior in his studies. Would Shixiong be so kind as to grant this lowly one his name?”
The head disciple freezes, seemingly unaware that his ramblings had an audience.
“That’s our Gongyi-shixiong,” The Little Palace Mistress puffs up proudly. “There isn’t a single monster he doesn’t know about!”
Gongyi-shixiong raises his hands, laughing nervously.
“T-that’s…you exaggerate, Shimei.” He glances at Binghe before taking a step back, his hands fidgeting anxiously. “I-it’s dark! Easy to make a mistake-really! Think nothing of it! O-or, it’s possibly a different variety of sunstone serpent! Yes, that must be it!”
Luo Binghe stares at him.
“Ah! Where are my manners! My sincere apologies!” He exclaims, offering Luo Binghe a small bow. “This one is Gongyi Xiao. Many thanks for your assistance! The Huan Hua disciples are in your debt.”
Luo Binghe studies him for a moment. His actions were surprisingly skittish, deferential even. Not the behavior expected of a head disciple, not one from Huan Hua, at least. How easily rattled Gongyi Xiao is.
“It was nothing. This one is merely grateful he managed to intervene in time.” Luo Binghe sheathes Xin Mo, body angled to show the cut running down his bicep.
Another part of his plan: an intentional wound from one of the Poison Eating Stone Serpents. Although not poisonous on their own, they utilize poison ingested from their prey, making them dangerous, as no two snakes will have the same venom. Since it is often a combination of several different venoms, curing the poison can be near impossible. As a Heavenly Demon, Luo Binghe had no fear of poisons. The same could not be said for the Huan Hua palace disciples; hence Binghe’s precaution of using solely juveniles. The younger serpents didn’t have opportunities to hunt many venomous creatures and so did not have the lethal concoctions of older serpents. Given that their characteristic “rock-vein” patterns emerged from assimilating other species’ venom, Luo Binghe had hoped no such markings would be apparent to the disciples. He had requested as much from Sha Hualing after all (knowing her, this was an intentional defiance, a challenge to scent for blood in the water, an excuse to attack should he prove lacking). I should’ve been more thorough. He would not make the same mistake twice. Neither would Sha Hualing.
“Luo-shixiong, you’re hurt!” The Little Palace Mistress cries, rushing over to his side.
Luo Binghe makes a show of covering the wound. “This is nothing. Please don’t fret.” He softens his voice, “Though, this one must confess, he finds your concern most flattering.”
Predictably, she flushes. “How could I not worry!? Let me see!”
Luo Binghe allows her to grab hold of his arm and tug him closer.
“It’ll definitely need to be bandaged…” The Little Palace Mistress murmurs under her breath before searching through her qiankun pouch.
“Allow me,” A woman not-so-subtly nudges past the indignant Little Palace Mistress. The years following the Immortal Alliance Conference have shaped Qin Wanrong beautifully, and she knew it. Her movements are graceful, her gait calling attention to the sway of her hips and the uniform that Luo Binghe is certain was altered to be tighter than strictly necessary around her chest.
“Please forgive our dear Palace Mistress; she’s rarely injured in battle, so the thought of keeping medical equipment simply doesn’t occur to her.” The sweetness of her voice does nothing to conceal the dagger beneath it. It briefly makes Luo Binghe miss the kindness she once offered so readily in the past. Of course, sweet things are never meant to last.
The two disciples begin to squabble over him, but Luo Binghe ignores it in favor of studying Gongyi Xiao. He’s not studying the serpent but rather Luo Binghe. For a moment, their eyes meet. Gongyi Xiao flushes and hurriedly looks away, the guilt at being caught staring plain as day. Were he not in front of an audience, Luo Binghe might’ve snorted in amusement. What a strange person. Luo Binghe would break him open and see just what made this Gongyi Xiao tick. First things first, Luo Binghe reminds himself, softening his features.
“Begging your forgiveness, this one did not mean to cause any trouble.” He gently takes back his arm. “I can tend to this minor wound myself; I need not trouble you further.”
“No! Luo-shixiong, you’ve got it wrong!”
They clamor to assure him their bickering is only light-hearted banter between disciples, and that it really is no trouble to tend to him. After feigning reluctance, Luo Binghe gives in, letting them patch up his arm now that they’ve stopped arguing. He’s a model patient, holding still and offering praises to each of them. Although the Little Palace Mistress is his target, Luo Binghe is careful not to give her special treatment. He couldn’t make things too easy for her; a touch of competition would sharpen her affections. As his deplorable Shizun would say, comfort breeds complacency.