Chapter Text
Peerless Cucumber: You did get your ticket, right?
Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: you have such an impressive amount of faith in me, cucumber bro
Peerless Cucumber: With good reason, you little shit! I had to remind you to eat yesterday!
Peerless Cucumber: Which.
Peerless Cucumber: I’m buying lunch today. Noodles.
Peerless Cucumber: But only if you fucking show up.
Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: my hero!!!!
Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: but yeah obviously. if i don’t turn up, what are you gonna do? hand deliver the noodles to my apartment door?
Peerless Cucumber: Only so I could kick your ass in person. Don’t keep me waiting.
Shen Yuan took a deep breath before he swept his eyes around the crowded convention center, still a little reluctant to wander in there on his own. People didn’t make him nervous exactly, but so many in one spot? All talking loudly and filling even the tiniest of gaps in aisles with their extravagant cosplays and their props? Shen Yuan would never deny that he was a bit of a shut in, and just the thought of trying to squeeze himself into the artist alley was making his heart thump violently against his breastbone.
Another breath. He glanced at his phone once again, but Airplane hadn’t replied to his last message. Hopefully that meant that Airplane was actually on his way and hadn’t decided to flake out on him again. The noodles were certainly a good motivator.
He shoved the phone into the pants pocket of his cosplay and snapped open his fan with as much dignity as he could muster with a shaking hand. A few gusts of wind directed at his sweaty brow had him unwinding some, and his next breath didn’t feel quite as tight.
Shen Yuan might not have liked the character very much, but Shen Qingqiu’s hand fan was a godsend with so many fucking layers! Ugh, why didn’t he order a more expensive cosplay? He hadn’t wanted to waste too much money commissioning somebody for a cosplay when he didn’t even like the character, so the flowing green robes he’d ended up wearing weren’t as breathable as he would have preferred.
And the wig!? He could already feel a headache forming. Next time, he’d be paying more attention to YouTube tutorials on how to properly secure it instead of relying on his sister’s questionable last minute advice. Why had Shen Tang suggested using bobby pins? His poor scalp still ached from how aggressively he’d pinned the damn wig in place!
“Hi, I love your cosplay!” A girl dressed as the MC from Love and Deepspace had stopped in front of him. She waved shyly, her phone in one hand. “Could I take a picture?”
Shen Yuan straightened his shoulders, easily adopting the persona of the aloof and arrogant immortal master. “Go ahead,” he said as angled his fan to cover the lower half of his face, the same way that Shen Qingqiu did in all of Airplane’s favorite fanart. He maintained his poser act while she snapped a photo, gushed over how great he looked, and then scurried off to join her friends.
Shoulders dropping, Shen Yuan couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. This was the fifth? Sixth? Time he’d been asked for a photo? He may not have liked Shen Qingqiu or (arguably) the source material, but seeing one of his friend’s characters get recognition filled him with no small amount of pride.
Proud Immortal Demon Way was Airplane’s baby, even if it was a poorly-written tome of abandoned plotlines and increasingly ridiculous papapa scenes. The best thing about the webnovel was Luo Binghe, the stallion protagonist who had fully captivated Shen Yuan right from his introduction. From his early days as a white lotus disciple to his blackening at the hands of his ruthless Shizun, Shen Yuan hadn’t been able to tear himself away. No matter how badly the female characters were written, how the rest of the side characters suffered from a sheer lack of IQ , how absolutely stuffed with filler every chapter felt—
Shen Yuan could go on listing PIDW’s shortcomings all day, but where else could he read about Luo Binghe? Nowhere! So he was stuck reading PIDW, and now? He was stuck with it’s infamous author, Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, as his friend.
He wasn’t even sure how it happened. He’d typed out a long-winded comment about a loose end that Airplane had ignored in favor of yet another floral-themed aphrodisiac, and somehow he’d ended up with the author himself in his DMs. If only he had ignored that first message, he wouldn’t be sweating his ass off in a too-crowded convention center waiting to meet up with that little shit! Who was late! It really shouldn’t have surprised Shen Yuan so much that Airplane had no sense of punctuality!
Shen Yuan had intended to wait for Airplane to venture inside, but he was getting bored standing by the entrance. At least if he was walking around, he’d have something to distract from how heavy and suffocating all of these layers felt. Besides, there could be Binghe merch in there! Shen Yuan had no time to waste!
… He would at least text Airplane to let him know he was heading inside.
Decided, Shen Yuan reached into his pocket for his phone, casually meandering toward the opening of artist alley. He’d tell Airplane to let him know when he arrived, and then he’d go hunt down every piece of fan merch with Binghe’s (objectively) beautiful face on it! Perfect plan!
He hadn’t made it very far before a small, skinny body stumbled right into him. Shen Yuan turned to scowl, but the guy flinched instinctively, as if Shen Yuan wasn’t the first person he’d bumped into today so now he just expected to be yelled at. He took one look at the man’s hunched shoulders and scrunched expression, and Shen Yuan couldn’t help but… soften his glare a little. Only a little. He had an image to maintain.
“Sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going, and I was trying to text and—”
“Clearly,” said Shen Yuan with a dismissive wave of his fan.
The guy laughed again, scratching almost aggressively at the back of his head, and Shen Yuan realized that the light brown mess on his head was supposed to be a wig. He looked him up and down, trying to figure narrow down what character wore blue robes like these. While he did, the other man scanned his outfit as well. Once. And then twice. Then a third time even more slowly.
Wasn’t he looking just a little to closely?!
Shen Yuan’s cheeks began to warm, and he cleared his throat. “Can this master help you…?”
“Oh! Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare! I just wasn’t expecting to see another PIDW cosplayer at this convention!” The guy sputtered, his whole face turning a deep red at the realization that he’d been caught checking Shen Yuan out.
But Shen Yuan was too busy trying to figure out who the fuck this guy was cosplaying to worry about being ogled so aggressively. Maybe another one of the peak lords? Shen Yuan cycled through all of the most popular fanart in his head, trying to narrow down his options, but kept coming up empty. He told Airplane he needed to commission an artist for official character designs! How was anybody supposed to recognize his characters out in the wild!?
He was definitely a male character, so that ruled out the endless list of Binghe’s wives, thankfully. Maybe another peak lord? He wasn’t Yue Qingyuan, that was for sure. Not dignified enough to be the sect leader. No, this guy carried too much pathetic energy, and Shen Yuan could think of only one character who would fit the criteria.
“Shang Qinghua?”
“Ding ding ding!” the man laughed nervously again, a little embarrassed at himself, but Shen Yuan didn’t mind the recognition, okay?! Airplane had so many characters! Narrowing it down to one based on pure energy alone was something to brag about!
“I don’t even need to ask who you are,” said the Shang Qinghua cosplayer, brown eyes shining with awe. He looked over Shen Yuan’s cosplay a little less shamelessly, his hands clasped together in front of his face to hide his wide, lopsided smile. “You look perfect! Just how I’ve always imagined Shen Qingqiu!”
Now Shen Yuan’s blush returned again. He flapped his fan a few times, taking the moment to compose himself. “Yes, well. Thank you. It’s just a cosplay I bought off the internet that looked similar to all of Airplane’s favorite art.”
“Airplane…?” Shang Qinghua repeated slowly.
… Right. Most people didn’t talk about Airplane so casually, but what else was Shen Yuan supposed to call him? Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky was too damn long, and that was without the added shame factor of saying something like that in casual conversation! No, thank you!
“The, uh… the author,” Shen Yuan explained lamely. He fanned himself, a little more aggressively this time. How the fuck did he get out of this conversation?! He’d just been trying to text Airplane!
“Right! Yeah! Haha, I knew that! Of course!” The Shang Qinghua cosplayer laughed again, and was Shen Yuan imaging the panic beginning to form in his eyes? Before he could think to ask about it, the cosplayer was already backing away from him, apparently ready to scurry away from this conversation as quickly as he’d entered it. “Well, it’s been great meeting you! See you!”
Shen Yuan stared at his retreating back, frowning. What a weirdo.
Whatever. He sent Airplane a quick text about where he’d be and how he’d seen someone cosplaying a character from his shitty novel. He waited a minute, but this message went unanswered as well. Airplane didn’t even read it.
Odd.
Still, Shen Yuan was done standing around and waiting for him. With a frown, he tucked his phone into his pocket and made his way into artist alley to begin his very important hunt for Binghe without thinking much of his friend’s lack of response.
Only, an hour passed, and Shen Yuan still hadn’t heard from Airplane. He might have been a little worried if this wasn’t the third time Airplane had flaked out on meeting him. Which was fine! Really, meeting people from online was scary, even in such a public place! But Airplane didn’t usually ignore him like this. He always fessed up and started immediately groveling via text whenever he chickened out, but this time he’d decided to leave Shen Yuan on read for some reason.
That part worried Shen Yuan, but he’d have to deal with it later. He could only focus on one overwhelming emotion at once, and the convention’s sensory overload took priority over the concern gnawing at his gut.
Besides, it wasn’t like he was alone. Every time he turned around, he was running into that Shang Qinghua cosplayer. It made sense that they would frequent all the same booths, but wasn’t this getting a little ridiculous? Just how many times could the same guy bump into him?!
Eventually, the two of them stopped going their separate ways and decided to walk around the convention together. Safety in numbers or some shit. Mostly, Shen Yuan was concerned because Shang Qinghua had already inadvertently pissed off several vendors with his complaints over a lack of Mobei-Jun merchandise, so letting him wander around the convention on his own felt too irresponsible.
At first, Shang Qinghua had tried to protest. “But you don’t even know me!”
“You don’t know me either,” Shen Yuan reminded with a roll of his eyes. “What does that matter?”
“What about the friend you’re supposed to be meeting up with?”
Shen Yuan pursed his lips to appear more unaffected than he actually was. Of course, he was pissed that Airplane hadn’t shown his face, but what the fuck could he do about that?
“Obviously, he stood me up.”
“He could still—” At the sight of Shen Yuan’s warning glare, Shang Qinghua fell silent. “You know, you make a really good Shen Qingqiu. Intimidating and graceful and all that shit.”
“Don’t compare me too much to Airplane’s infamous scum villain, all right?! How he treated Binghe was unforgivable!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Cucumber-bro,” said Shang Qinghua with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I guess I can stick around since you begged me so nicely.”
Shen Yuan stared pointedly at the cosplayer for a long moment before he gave in to the urge to whack him in the shoulder with his fan. “Who would beg for your company, huh?! I just figure if I’m going to spend the whole con running into you, we might as well walk around together!”
“I already agreed, you don’t have to keep—ow! Stop weaponizing your fan!”
“Stop spouting bullshit!”
The rest of the day passed by in a sweaty blur of bickering with each other and spending too much money on Luo Binghe. Hanging out with the Shang Qinghua cosplayer felt natural, almost as if they’d known each other for months instead of only having met by chance at the convention. They dragged each other from one booth to the other, yapping endlessly to each other about keychains or prints or just PIDW itself. Somewhere along the way, Shen Yuan learned his name was Xiang Fei, his favorite character was Mobei-Jun, and that he lived alone in an apartment within walking distance of the convention center.
Shen Yuan pretended he didn’t know most of that information already.
As the convention wound down, Shen Yuan and Xiang Fei meandered toward the exit. They were mid-debate about which one of PIDW’s arcs was the best when Xiang Fei suddenly paused. They’d made their way outside by now, and Shen Yuan had been subconsciously leading them toward his car, determined to eat his weight in noodles after such an exhausting day.
Xiang Fei looked around at the parking lot, as if trying to figure out how they’d gotten there so quickly. After a moment, he gave a disappointed laugh. “Guess it’s time to head home, huh?”
“No,” said Shen Yuan, firm and deliberate, “now it’s time to get noodles.”
“Noodles?” Xiang Fei repeated, his eyes sparkling with hope in the afteroon sun. As quickly as the emotion had appeared, Xiang Fei stamped it back down with another self-deprecating chuckle. “Thanks for the invite, but I really overspent in there… just couldn’t resist that Mobei-Jun mousepad, hahaha….”
Shen Yuan leveled him with a frustrated stare. Hadn’t this charade gone on long enough? It was cute at first, but now he was too hungry to bother humoring his friend any longer. “Don’t you think it’s time to cut the act? I already told you I’d buy you lunch.”
“What, no you—” Xiang Fei’s expression bled from confusion to fear to shame all in a matter of seconds. He averted his eyes and took a step back, the paper bag filled with his convention spoils crinkling as he began to fidget with the handle. He chewed on his lip for a moment before he asked, his voice quiet with hesitation. “When did you realize it was me?”
Shen Yuan couldn’t contain a small laugh. “Airplane, are you kidding me? You called me Cucumber-bro.”
“Maybe you just look like a cucumber.”
“I look like a—what does that even mean?!” Shen Yuan lifted his fan, intending to smack his friend with it like he had been all day, but paused when he saw the way Xiang Fei flinched. He lowered his prop with a huff. “I’m not mad, you know. Meeting people on the internet is scary. You had to make sure I wasn’t a creep or whatever. It’s fine.”
Xiang Fei’s eyes flitted up to meet his for a second before he looked down again, his cheeks noticeably redder now. “That… that wasn’t why, bro.”
“What?”
“Just… forget about it.” Xiang Fei took a deep breath, and the nerves drained right out of him. When he looked up this time, he wore the same half-grin that Shen Yuan had seen on him all day, and he sidled up to Shen Yuan like the whole identity reveal hadn’t even happened. “Even if you were a creep, I’d let you kidnap me for some noodles.”
“Get some self-preservation, would you?!”
“This is me having some self-preservation! I’m starving, bro! Wasting away!”
“You’re just as dramatic as your fucking webnovel, you know that?! I’m convinced it just comes naturally to you!”
Xiang Fei laughed, loud and more at ease than he’d been all day, and Shen Yuan decided that he didn’t need to know what the real reason was that Xiang Fei concealed his identity. At least, not yet. He’d get it out of him eventually.
After all, they had plenty of time to start spilling secrets. Shen Yuan wouldn’t be letting this hack author of his get away any time soon.