Chapter Text
Shen Yuan shudders as the pervasive itch comes back. It’s not an itch he can get to; it sits just below his skin, sticky and sluggish, making him burn from the inside out. It’s been bugging him for weeks now, making him jumpy and skittish, uncomfortable and disgusting in a way that he hasn’t felt since he first transmigrated into this tarshfire of a novel. It gets worse the longer the Immortal Alliance Conference drags on - hours upon hours of simmering anxiety and fear. He starts to squirm uncomfortably, opening and closing his fan and tugging at the ends of his hair.
“Shen-shixiong, are you alright?” Ning Yingying frowns at him, her dark eyes unsettling in their concern. Her sweet smile is nowhere to be seen, covered instead by thinly veiled upset. He feels awful for wiping the usual smile off her face.
“Ah,” Shen Yuan snaps his fan open and covers the uncomfortable grimace that twists his mouth. “I’m fine, Yingying.” His mood further sours with the lie.
The frown doesn’t leave Ning Yingying’s face. “Are you sure? Are you worried for A-Luo?”
Unwilling to tell the truth behind his behaviour, Shen Yuan just nods his head jerkily. At the mention of his sticky friend, Shen Yuan glances at the crystal screens. Binghe is still being tailed by a little horde of sisters. A strange sense of possessiveness shudders through Shen Yuan. Jealousy trying to rise to the surface for no good reason. He ignores it, because what reason does he have to feel that way about Binghe? All that’s happening is the course of the novel. Of course Binghe is going to pick up some wives here.
The Conference so far has been relatively boring, if Shen Yuan tells the truth. Unless one is participating in the hunting, the week is just a whole lot of sitting and gossiping with other sects and making bets over who will collect the most spirit beads. (Shen Yuan is loath to admit, but he did bet a hundred spirit stones on Binghe. Futile, given the predestined course of a fate created by the Great God Airplane, but it felt right to show his faith in Binghe anyway.)
A cold presence makes itself known behind Shen Yuan with a clearing of the throat.
“Shen Yuan.” The smooth voice of Qing Jing Peak’s Lord startles Shen Yuan from his anxious jittering.
He turns and stands, bowing to Shen Qingqiu. “This disciple greets Shizun!”
“Mn.” A perfectly shaped eyebrow raises at him. “Worrying about the little beast, are you?”
“Of course not, Shizun. Binghe is perfectly capable.” At this point, it’s become more than a habit to reinforce his faith in Binghe to Shen Qingqiu - what else could he do but show the scum villain that Binghe is worth more than being thrown around?
An almost unnoticeable grimace passes over Shen Qingqiu’s face before he brings his fan up to cover it. “Come with me. Your martial uncles and I have been placing bets, and as my Head Disciple it’s your job to sort the spirit stones for me. Yingying,” He acknowledges the other disciple with a nod, before sweeping away, Shen Yuan in tow.
The splitting of the spirit stones is enough to distract him for a while, but it’s not until everything has gone to shit that the itch under Shen Yuan’s skin stops bothering him; though he’s too busy leading some wayward disciples through the safe zone to really notice the relief. He’s too keyed up by the imminent plot point to really focus on anything, actually, trying to figure out how he can lessen the blow to Luo Binghe. His sticky, loving, too good for anyone in this sect Luo Binghe. His little white sheep.
Hang on, what? His ? Luo Binghe isn’t anyone’s, and he’s certainly not Shen Yuan’s. Shen Yuan is just a shixiong to Luo Binghe - one of the few people on Qing Jing Peak that treats him with any kindness.
“Shixiong, shixiong, what’s happening?” One of the panicked disciples tugs on his robes.
“Hush, you needn’t worry, this shixiong will take care of things.” He ushers the group to safety. “Stay here until one of the Peak Lords come to get you, hmm? Be good.” After he receives a few scared nods, he flits back through the trees to find Luo Binghe.
By the time he finds the protagonist, the ground has started to shake. “Binghe!” He calls, running towards him.
“Shixiong,” Binghe looks down at him with wide eyes. Stupid Binghe, growing taller than Shen Yuan. At least save your shixiong some face and stand a bit further back so he doesn’t have to crane his neck, alright?! “Shixiong, are you hurt?”
Shen Yuan bats his bands away gently. “I’m fine, Binghe. Are you alright?”
Binghe nods furiously, hair bouncing. Shen Yuan breathes a sigh of relief. The ground shudders violently before a horrible ripping sound fills the air. Shen Yuan grabs onto Binghe’s arm tightly and tugs him away from the giant rift that forms in the ground. Cold air fills the area, making Shen Yuan shiver. Binghe steps closer to him, pressing up against his back.
“Here you are.” A booming voice comes from the other side of the rift. Shen Yuan glances back and goes stock still. Mobei Jun is staring at Binghe impassively. He glances at Shen Yuan and seems to be mildly surprised, but his attention goes back to Binghe soon after. What the fuck is Mobei Jun doing here? Too OP, too OP! Where’s the Black Moon Rhinoceros Python? Shang Qinghua is going to die by Shen Yuan’s hand for somehow deviating from canon.
“What do you want?” Binghe tightens his hold on Shen Yuan. He can feel Binghe slowly pulling him behind him, so he wriggles out of his hands. Shen Yuan may be lazy, but he can certainly look after himself, thank you Binghe!
Mobei Jun doesn’t say anything before he darts forward. Zheng Yang is in Binghe’s palm in a flash. Shen Yuan barely blinks before the two clash, energy pinging around the area. The spiritual energy and demonic energy attacking each other makes his skin buzz.
He can barely keep up with everything. Mobei Jun growls before sending out a burst of demonic energy. Binghe doubles over, coughing. Shen Yuan rushes to his side, his own sword drawn as he crouches over Binghe. Binghe’s hand twists into Shen Yuan’s robes.
A low growl rips out of Shen Yuan’s throat.
“How interesting,” Mobei Jun levels an appraising look at Shen Yuan. “Too bad.” He sends a bigger burst of demonic energy towards Binghe, but Shen Yuan is strung so tightly that he covers Luo Binghe with his own body.
The energy hits him instead, searing him from the inside out. Something in him snaps, and a rush of his own energy makes his fingertips tingle. He feels something twitch on his head, but doesn’t think about it. Instead he yells and launches himself at Mobei Jun, sword pulsing in his grip.
He screams and sends pulses of spiritual energy at the demon. A darker energy sparks at his fingertips and he throws that too, rage roaring in his head. How dare this asshole try and hurt his Binghe. How dare he try to lay a single thread of demonic energy near Binghe. How dare he .
Mobei Jun jumps back towards the Endless Abyss. He glares at Shen Yuan, before smirking and mock bowing. He jumps back into the Abyss. Shen Yuan’s chest heaves.
His senses calm down a bit, but everything around him seems sharper and louder, more present than it was before. A low whine makes his ears perk, and he spins towards Binghe, who is still sprawled on the ground.
Shen Yuan can spy his demon mark glowing faintly on his forehead and rushes over. “Shixiong,” Binghe grips onto him when Shen Yuan kneels next to him. He coughs. Binghe tries to push spiritual energy into Shen Yuan’s meridians, but Shen Yuan stops him and pushes his own to Binghe instead.
“Silly child,” He scolds. “Take care of yourself instead. Who’s sprawled on the floor, clinging to his shixiong’s robes? It’s certainly not me.” The gentle hands on his head and the qi flowing to his meridians takes the sting out of the jab.
Binghe stares up at him, awe and shock filling his eyes. “Shixiong,” Is that the only word Binghe knows? Didn’t Shen Yuan teach him well enough after Shen Qingqiu refused to give him any attention? “You…”
He doesn’t get to finish before the sounds of yelling and running fill the area. Miasma from the Endless Abyss tickles at Shen Yuan, like a tug, or a call. He ignores it in favour of petting Luo Binghe’s head slowly. Shen Qingqiu bursts through the trees, eyes steely and searching.
His eyes land on Binghe and Shen Yuan curled around each other and he goes still. Shen Yuan looks up at him, dread filling him from head to toe. “Shizun,” He calls. “Shizun, are the other disciples safe?” Being head disciple, Shen Yuan wants to make sure his shidis and shimeis are well.
Shen Qingqiu’s already harsh countenance becomes even crueler. “What right does someone like you have to call me Shizun?”
Shen Yuan’s mouth goes dry. What? “Shizun…” Binghe curls up in his lap even more, head pushed into Shen Yuan’s stomach. Shen Yuan leans over him protectively.
“If I’d have known I was harbouring a demon on my Peak, I’d have cast you out of the Sect with my blade years ago.” He steps closer, Xiu Ya drawn and pointed at the two of them.
Confused, Shen Yuan frowns at his Shizun. He’s sure Binghe hadn’t looked at Shen Qingqiu since he got to the clearing - he’d been firmly clutching to Shen Yuan. How did Shen Qingqiu know he was a demon?
“Luo Binghe, you pitiful creature, I may not like you but no disciple of mine will be allowed to cling to a filthy demon. Come here now.” Binghe shakes his head, while Shen Yuan feels like he’s spinning. What? What does Shizun mean? Binghe is the demon here! What kind of low IQ has struck Shen Qingqiu so suddenly?
Suddenly, Xiu Ya flies towards Shen Yuan. He gets a sword to his shoulder, not far off from his heart. He gasps wetly, eyes watering, as Luo Binghe’s head shoots up to stare at where Xiu Ya protrudes from his shoulder.
Before he can do anything, Shen Qingqiu has grabbed Binghe’s shoulder and tugged him away from Shen Yuan without even a glance towards Binghe. Binghe looks stricken, eyes watering. Shen Yuan offers him a shaky smile.
“Shizun, why did you do that?” His voice wavers. It’s hard to stay aloof and in control when your teacher - the one that practically raised you - has his sword lodged into your shoulder.
“Disgusting creature!” Binghe struggles in Shizun’s grip, but can’t get away. “Fox demons are close to the worst of all demons, scum.” He shoves Binghe away and marches towards Shen Yuan, eyes shadowed. Shen Yuan feels mounting horror and confusion take root in his chest.
What is happening ? He can hear Luo Binghe’s laboured breathing and the distant screaming of other disciples. His tails twitch behind him, puffed up in fear. Shen Qingqiu grips the hilt of Xiu Ya and -
Wait.
His tails. Twitch. Behind him. Slowly, he turns his head and spies three fluffy white tails behind him. On his head, two ears twitch and lay down as close to his head as possible. His head spins.
Why is he a demon?
Binghe makes a gutted noise when Shen Qingqiu yanks Xiu Ya out of Shen Yuan’s shoulder and kicks him over, closer to the Abyss. Shen Yuan yelps, clutching at the wound and whining low in his throat. Binghe rushes forward, but is pushed back by Shen Qingqiu’s burst of spiritual energy.
Shen Yuan watches through blurry eyes as Binghe roars, his demon mark glowing brightly. Black energy converges on his palms, directed at Shen Qingqiu. Rage fills Shen Qingqiu’s face.
“ Two demons harboured on my Peak? ” He rushes at Binghe, but Binghe dodges and darts to Shen Yuan’s side. Shen Yuan shudders when he feels how much resentful energy is clinging to Binghe. Distressed, he tries to say Binghe’s name, but all he can do is whine at the pain that lances through him.
“You would dare hurt shixiong.” Binghe’s voice is dark, dripping with malice and hate. But under that, is a broken sadness that pulls at Shen Yuan’s heart. Something in Shen Yuan snaps, and he snarls at Shen Qingqiu, loud and angry. His teeth lengthen and the skin on his face tingles.
Shen Qingqiu stumbles but bares his own teeth back. Shen Yuan struggles to crawl as close to Binghe as he possibly can, tails wrapping around Binghe’s waist and legs. Shen Qingqiu finally loses the last of his patience - he gathers all the qi he can, and shoves both of them back, sending continuous attacks.
Too weak to stand his ground, Shen Yuan is forced to stumble back, and Luo Binghe follows him, still tangled up with his shixiong. Binghe clutches at Shen Yuan’s arm. Shen Yuan growls at Shen Qingqiu, but nothing can stop their shizun from his attacks. Shen Yuan feels the ground beneath him start to waver and pull - the heat from the Abyss licks at his legs.
“No demons will be tolerated in my sect, let alone on my Peak.” Xiu Ya is levelled at them both. “Perish, filth.”
And with one final attack, the two of them tumble back off the edge of the cliff, plummeting into the Endless Abyss together.