Chapter Text
The last heavenly demon Xuansu-jun had masqueraded for years as a righteous cultivator, rising through the ranks of the small-time Qiu Sect. But his secret was betrayed by the cultivator Shen Jiu, who discovered Xuansu-jun’s deception and told the jianghu of his true nature. Xuansu-jun was cast out, but he returned and razed the Qiu Sect to the ground. In its cooling ashes, the Zheng Yang Sword Luo Qingdong fought Xuansu-jun to a standstill. Then the united sects worked together to pierce the demon with a thousand swords. Still, heavenly demons were no joke! Xuansu-jun still lived and struggled to break free. So Luo Qingdong sealed him beneath Bailu Mountain, burying him alive for an eternity of suffering.
“I know all this already, okay?! It’s common knowledge, they tell the story in every inn! There are half a dozen songs! You don’t have to keep telling me this!” Shen Yuan shouted.
The words echoed in the barren dreamscape. Shen Yuan had made an attempt at a forest of bamboo around the space where they stood, but even he had to admit, he hadn’t given it his best effort. Near the tops of the stalks, the bamboo turned to the mist that made up Shen Yuan’s dream realm when he wasn’t shaping it. They merged formlessly into a bleak and uniformly gray sky. Meng Mo couldn’t decide if he was more offended by Shen Yuan’s laziest attempts or the focus of his greatest efforts.
“Clearly, I do need to remind you!” Meng Mo yelled back, gesturing pointedly at the bloody lump he’d created to represent Xuansu-jun. “Or you’d be focusing on honing your skills and developing your mind!”
Shen Yuan clutched his high quality facsimile of his Shizun, Luo Qingdong. “I am!” Shen Yuan defended.
Sure, this Luo Qingdong didn’t smile quite like the real one, and his eyes didn’t sparkle with the stars of a thousand galaxies. But he was getting more realistic every night!
Meng Mo dragged his hands slowly down his face, ending by tugging agitatedly on his beard. “I could have gone for that Sha Hualing chit. She seemed like such a brat, but she had to be better than this,” he muttered to himself.
Shen Yuan ignored him in favor of burying his face in Luo Qingdong’s hair. It was so soft. Dream!Shizun’s arms came up around him in a warm and tender hug. Shen Yuan had only experienced this in real life eight times, but each one had been a wonderful experience. Shen Yuan still hadn’t gotten it right, he needed more data to recreate the feeling accurately. Perhaps he could arrange to do it again soon.
Shen Yuan clung to his imitation Shizun and luxuriated in the memory of his warmth. He smelled of bamboo forests and morning fog, and home, and… frying shallots?
“Oi, brat, don’t even–” Meng Mo started.
But Shen Yuan was already breaking up the dreamscape and waking up. Bars of light shone through the cracks that formed in the sky above, shredding barely-corporeal bamboo wherever they struck.
“Sorry Shifu, time for breakfast!” Shen Yuan was unrepentant as he fled the lecture.
He’d heard it all before! Far too many times. Why stay for another round, with what the waking world had waiting for him?
“Your seal is unraveling!” Meng Mo called after him from the fading dream. “If you don’t train, you’re going to die when it breaks!”
Shen Yuan ignored the old grump with the ease of long practice. Should Shen Yuan be studying harder learning to use his demonic energy? Eh, maybe. But there was always something better to be doing.
The day would come eventually when the seal would break and Shen Yuan would need to flee for his life. Never to see his Shizun again, never to return to Qing Jing, or the infamous Zheng Yang Sword would kill him like Xuansu-jun. Ah, that was a sad thought. Why dwell on it?
Instead, Shen Yuan focused on getting dressed as quickly as possible. Fabric whirled about as Shen Yuan frantically donned all the accouterments of his station, perhaps a little sloppily. When it was bad enough, Luo Qingdong sometimes personally fixed it, and Shen Yuan loved how he leaned in close when he adjusted the lay of the robes! When he got that close, Shen Yuan always felt a frisson of excitement. This was the Zheng Yang Sword, showing attention and care to Shen Yuan!
Inner robe, outer robe, belt, a few swipes of the brush, tying the hair ribbon. Done!
“Shizun!” Shen Yuan called out as he stumbled out of the side room of the bamboo house. “Did I sleep in?”
Luo Qingdong was standing in the kitchen of the bamboo house. He had already dressed for the day as was appropriate for a Peak Lord, all dignified and refined. But his cheeks were flushed from the heat of the stove, and a white apron was tied over his elegant pale green robes. Luo Qingdong turned to Shen Yuan, wooden spoon in hand. The rice congee clinging to it gleamed white in the morning light. Shen Yuan swallowed back drool.
“If my student needs rest, he should rest,” Luo Qingdong said with a teasing smile. “But right now, he looks hungry.”
“Shizun, it should be me making you breakfast!” Shen Yuan protested, but without much passion. Propriety was important, but getting to taste Luo Qingdong’s food again was an opportunity to seize and cherish.
“I’m done now, anyway,” Luo Qingdong said as he spooned the congee into two bowls. “But let me indulge myself sometimes! Cooking for my precious disciple is always a pleasure.”
Shen Yuan fought down a blush. Where was his fan? In his room? Shen Yuan was supposed to be a cool and refined disciple of Qing Jing Peak, but Luo Qingdong could always fluster him with only a little teasing.
Still eager to do his part, Shen Yuan carried the dishes to the table and set out everything they needed. He brewed the jasmine tea with the ease of long practice; Luo Qingdong allowed Shen Yuan to do this, at least. The floral scent of the tea mingled enticingly with the smells of the food, and Shen Yuan eagerly took his seat at the table across from Luo Qingdong.
Luo Qingdong took Shen Yuan’s bowl and added the fried shallots Shen Yuan had woken up for, along with some pork floss. Shen Yuan accepted everything appreciatively. Luo Qingdong’s cooking was so delicious!
As they ate, they talked of Shen Yuan’s progress in cultivation. Luo Qingdong had nothing but praise for Shen Yuan, which gave him the courage to bring up something that the other disciples had been fervidly gossiping about.
“Shizun, for the Immortal Alliance Conference this year. Do you think I could attend?”
At once, Luo Qingdong’s manner soured and the smile fell from his face.
“Don’t talk to me about the Immortal Alliance Conference,” Luo Qingdong commanded, a dark look in his eyes.
Shen Yuan jolted, a chill running down his spine. Before his qi-deviation, Luo Qingdong had been cold and harsh with Shen Yuan. But since that time, Luo Qingdong had been a bottomless well of kindness. Nowadays, Luo Qingdong never spoke to Shen Yuan like that, and that look on his face!
Was it such an awful idea? Despite all the praise, did Luo Qingdong think so little of Shen Yuan’s abilities? Was Shen Yuan too weak to make a good showing against the other sects?
Shen Yuan schooled his expression. He couldn’t show the dismay he felt. He was a diligent student who accepted his teacher’s wisdom.
Luo Qingdong leaned over and added a century egg to Shen Yuan’s congee, as a mute apology. Shen Yuan stared at the egg, and wondered if Luo Qingdong would ever see Shen Yuan as more than a child.
Luo Qingdong sighed at the face Shen Yuan was trying so hard not to make. “You will be attending,” Luo Qingdong said, almost grudgingly.
Shen Yuan didn’t care, joy filling his chest like a sunrise. This was his chance! He could show everyone he was a real cultivator, impress his Shizun, maybe even–
A knock came at the door, and Mo Qingbei, the Peak Lord of Bai Zhan, rudely entered without permission, as he so often did. Liu Mingge was standing behind him, and Shen Yuan wept for the poor manners the boy was learning under a teacher like his!
Luo Qingdong scowled at the pair for interrupting his peaceful breakfast routine. He did not like Liu Mingge, and the feeling was mutual. Luo Qingdong was a famous warrior despite being the Peak Lord of the scholar’s peak, so Liu Mingge had been very enthusiastic about challenging him. And while Liu Mingge could occasionally defeat Mo Qingbei, he never stood a chance against the wily Luo Qingdong. And Luo Qingdong never showed a hint of mercy in his takedowns.
Liu Mingge called Luo Qingdong an honorless bastard. Luo Qingdong called Liu Mingge a cocky brat. Shen Yuan privately thought Liu Mingge should really stop picking fights for his own health! Did he think he could defeat the Zheng Yang Sword? Liu Mingge was a thousand years too young to stand a chance.
Mo Qingbei moved to block the line of sight between Liu Mingge and Luo Qingdong, possibly preventing yet another fight from breaking out. The two would fight over anything, up to and including who would pick up a ribbon Shen Yuan had dropped!
“Shixiong, we need to talk,” Mo Qingbei announced solemnly. “Alone.”
He loomed in the doorway like a glacier. The common people called him the “Indomitable Fortress” both for his skill in defending an area, and his determination in the face of impossible odds. Shen Yuan could already tell he wasn’t going to leave until he’d said his piece.
“I’ll start my chores,” Shen Yuan said hastily, not wanting to intrude on sect business.
Luo Qingdong reached out, looking almost like he wanted to stop Shen Yuan. Then he glanced to the side and lowered his hand. “All right,” Luo Qingdong said. “The water barrel needs refilling.”
Shen Yuan snagged a bucket on his way out the door, shutting it behind him before Liu Mingge could say a word. Liu Mingge and Peak Lord Mo, what a team they were!
“Are you going to the Immortal Alliance Conference?” Shen Yuan asked Liu Mingge as they walked towards the water pump.
“Yes, Shizun is confident it will be good training for me,” Liu Mingge said. “He has increased my practice schedule and drilling so I can make the most of the opportunity. Here, let me help you.” Liu Mingge took the pump, and worked the handle until water was coming out clear and cold.
Shen Yuan moved the bucket under the spout. “Shizun just said I could go too, so we’ll be going together! I suppose I should train more as well…”
Liu Mingge looked Shen Yuan up and down, and nodded. “Yes, you should.”
In his head, Shen Yuan wailed, You didn’t have to say it like that! Am I that bad?!
Liu Mingge still helped Shen Yuan carry the buckets back to the Bamboo House, but insisted they train together afterwards. As Shen Yuan dropped off the water, he overheard Luo Qingdong and Mo Qingbei still talking.
“...have to push him in. It says it’s a required plot point. I can’t…” came Luo Qingdong’s voice through the window.
Shen Yuan hastily left before he could disturb the immortal masters. It was none of his business, and anyway, Liu Mingge was antsy for them to train together!
After a few rounds of sparring together, Liu Mingge insisted on drilling unarmed combat with Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan personally thought this was ridiculous; he was going to have a sword at the Immortal Alliance Conference! What was the point?
Shen Yuans swore loudly in his head, while keeping up the calm cool gaze he’d perfected in the mirror back on Qing Jing. He’d lost his sword, he’d run out of talismans, and the demons that had invaded the conference didn’t seem to be taking any prisoners.
He was dead meat! How was he going to make it out of this?!
A swarm of Razor-winged Moths burst out from yet another rift. Shen Yuan braced himself, arms in front of his face, as they fluttered past him on sharp and poisonous wings. They struck him over and over and Shen Yuan felt first the heat of the moving blades, then the sting and rivulets of hot blood as wounded flesh parted.
The wounds ran up and down his forearms, shredding his guards and sleeves into ragged bloodstained ruin. But as soon as the swarm had passed, Shen Yuan was moving again.
Because he heard Luo Qingdong’s voice just up ahead.
What was Luo Qingdong doing here? When the rifts had begun to form, many of the contestants had died. Shen Yuan had passed by a lot of corpses while trying to find somewhere safe to run to.
But Luo Qingdong had a heroic spirit; he must have volunteered to enter Jue Di Gorge to save whoever had survived. And Shen Yuan knew if he could only find his Shizun again, everything would be all right.
Shen Yuan burst out from the thickly wooded trees and into what had once been forest, but was now a brand new clearing. The stumps of some of the larger trees remained in the ground, but surrounded by the broken debris of their trunks and foliage. The whole area had been devastated by vicious battle. Nearby was a crevasse over an enormous rift that led to the Endless Abyss. Its dark energies approached and receded like the waves of an ocean lapping at a sandy shore.
Luo Qingdong stood before the rift, Zheng Yang held aloft. Opposite him was a demon with bright flame-red wings, wearing the orange robes of a demon from the Southern Jungles.
With a wave of his hand, the demon sent a lash of fire at Luo Qingdong; Luo Qingdong blocked it with Zheng Yang and his own cool, steady qi.
To anyone watching Luo Qingdong would have seemed unaffected, but Shen Yuan knew his teacher. He could read in Luo Qingdong’s shoulders the tension and stress and weariness he was pushing through to fight.
“Shizun!” Shen Yuan called out, and this drew the attention of both combatants.
The demon spoke first. “Oh, where have you been hiding? I thought we had everyone accounted for.”
And Luo Qingdong just watched Shen Yuan, expression unreadable. He didn’t come to Shen Yuan’s aid. He didn’t beckon Shen Yuan closer. He looked at Shen Yuan and tensed, as though Shen Yuan was another opponent to fight.
And then Shen Yuan noticed. The sting of his cuts had faded; they had healed. His fingertips felt different, sharper. The world itself looked slightly different, full of brighter colors and blood in particular drew his eye, impossibly bright. And there was a sensation of burning at Shen Yuan’s brow that wasn’t fading.
Luo Qingdong faced his student and saw a demon in his place.
“So you were one of them all along,” Luo Qingdong said, shifting his stance to guard against both Shen Yuan and the winged demon.
Luo Qingdong’s words were angry but his expression was heartbroken. The stars in his eyes had burned out, leaving only darkness.
There was a loud crack as the abyss crept closer and closer. Its reaching fissures came too close to Luo Qingdong, and for a moment Shen Yuan thought he would fall. But Luo Qingdong was steady on his feet and unmoved.
“Shizun, come away from the edge, you’re too close,” Shen Yuan begged, moving in close to Luo Qingdong on the battlefield. As though if Shen Yuan could reach his teacher, his words might reach him as well.
Shen Yuan raised his hands to show he held no weapon, then dropped them once more as he spotted his own wicked claws.
“That sigil on your forehead. You are a heavenly demon, the son of my greatest enemy.” Luo Qingdong moved forward but kept Zheng Yang between them. “How long have you been lying to me? How long ago did you make deals with demons and betray our sect?”
“I didn’t!” Shen Yuan protested, knowing even as he did that it was futile. The truth was out now. He was a lying demon in the middle of an invasion; Luo Qingdong was duty-bound as a righteous cultivator to slay him. “I didn’t help them, I’m still your disciple. Please, Shizun, you can’t really believe that, you can’t really hate me–”
Luo Qingdong raised Zheng Yang to hold it at Shen Yuan’s throat. “A demon like you belongs in the abyss. Go down there now, or I will make you.”
Shen Yuan stared at his teacher over its shining surface. Those dark eyes kept looking past him, to the side. Luo Qingdong couldn’t even look at Shen Yuan now that the seal had broken. Shen Yuan looked like a monster now, and Luo Qingdong hated even the sight of him. The hope in Shen Yuan’s chest was crushed like the delicate wings of a butterfly.
“Shizun, I can’t, I’ll die. Please,” Shen Yuan couldn’t hide the fear in his voice.
Zheng Yang trembled and nicked his throat. Blood ran down its length to bead at its tip, dark and wet in the unlight of the abyss.
And Shen Yuan was so, so scared. How could he fight Luo Qingdong, the Peak Lord of Qing Ding, the Zheng Yang Sword? The slayer of Xuansu-jun? It was hopeless. But Shen Yuan didn’t want to die.
More cracking, and the abyss crept closer like a Saber-toothed Lion ready to pounce. The ground at Luo Qingdong’s heels fell away. If they didn’t move, they both might be swallowed up, together.
Shen Yuan brought that terrible clawed hand up, wrenching Zheng Yang aside and ignoring the way it bit into his fingers. Zheng Yang swung in a flash of silver, and then Shen Yuan’s chest was slashed across and bleeding. It hurt–not just because of the physical wound. Somehow, Shen Yuan had never expected his Shizun to hurt him, even despite everything. His newfound demonic traits quickly began to heal the cut, but this did nothing to diminish Shen Yuan’s growing panic.
“Shizun, stop, please,” Shen Yuan begged. “I didn’t betray you, I swear.”
“I don’t believe you,” Luo Qingdong replied woodenly.
Shen Yuan thought about plunging his claws into Luo Qingdong’s chest, withdrawing them covered in blood. He thought about watching the light and life fade from Luo Qingdong’s eyes. He couldn’t do it.
But what was the alternative, to let Luo Qingdong kill him? If Shen Yuan didn’t fight for his life now, he was dead meat! This was Luo Qingdong, the Peak Lord of Qing Jing! He could kill Shen Yuan without the least bit of effort!
Shen Yuan had made a promise to his baba, once. To not depend on others. To do whatever it took to survive. Shen Yuan had thought he could trade in those harsh lessons, when he began to bask in the easy affection and warmth of Luo Qingdong. But in truth, they were still ingrained in him. The loneliness. The fear. The desperation. As Luo Qingdong revealed his hatred for Shen Yuan, it all came crashing back.
Luo Qingdong sent out a sword glare, and Shen Yuan flung himself to the side to dodge it. Then Shen Yuan wobbled, as he almost went down into the abyss right there beside him. If Shen Yuan lost his balance now, well, that was just another way to die, wasn’t it?
I don’t want to die!
Shen Yuan’s heart pounded with panic and his throat burned from the fumes of the abyss. His vision grew blurry. Shen Yuan reached out and fisted his hands in Luo Qingdong’s robes. Luo Qingdong didn’t resist. Shen Yuan shoved, and felt the silk pass between his fingers like water trailing down, down, down.
Luo Qingdong fell.
Shen Yuan watched Luo Qingdong plummet into the abyss, and Luo Qingdong watched Shen Yuan remain above. Shen Yuan thought he saw a grim smile appear on Luo Qingdong’s face, as though he was satisfied with the outcome. But Shen Yuan couldn’t be satisfied like this. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go!
The great Luo Qingdong, the hero Shen Yuan had grown up hearing about, for his life to end like this? It couldn’t be!
Shen Yuan felt that if he could only lean forward he could catch Luo Qingdong’s sleeve and save him. Luo Qingdong was too far away now, a green speck in the dark void.
Shen Yuan reached forward anyway, and felt the ground give way beneath his feet. And then he was falling like his Shizun. Shen Yuan knew he should feel alarmed. Instead he felt empty, as though all the hope in him had gone into the Abyss. He had to go down there and get it back.
Demons belonged in the abyss. They didn’t belong in a world with righteous cultivators. It should be Shen Yuan down there, and Luo Qingdong up above.
But there was a jolt and a pain across Shen Yuan’s ribs as an arm wrapped around him, catching him and turning his fall into a coast.
The fire demon had flown down and caught Shen Yuan. His bright red wings spread above them, and with a great flap he pulled Shen Yuan up and away from the abyss.
“I have to admit, I’m a bit confused,” he said. “But that was the Luo Qingdong! If you hadn’t come in he would’ve killed me for sure!”
Shen Yuan was a dignified cultivator. No, he wasn’t that anymore. He was a brutish, murderous demon that had betrayed his teacher and cast him to a hellish doom. Either way, he wasn’t going to cry.
“Just put me back over there,” Shen Yuan said bitterly, gesturing at the cliff below.
“I don’t think that’ll work out too well for you,” the demon said. “That cultivator looks pretty angry.”
And sure enough, there was a boy standing there, glaring furiously up at them. Liu Mingge.
What had he seen? From where he was standing, and the way he was watching them: too much. Had he seen Shen Yuan throw Luo Qingdong down?
Regret welled up in Shen Yuan’s chest. There was no undoing what he’d done. What he’d been revealed to be. If he went down there now, Liu Mingge would kill him, and Shen Yuan would deserve it. He was a traitorous demon, after all.
“Don’t worry kid, I’ve got you! We’ll get you home, once we get a few things sorted out.”
And with that the demon dove for one of the other portals, this one to the demon realm. Wet heat slapped Shen Yuan in the face as they emerged into a red sky, gray-green foliage dense below them.
The Southern Jungles of the Demon Realm.