Chapter Text
Resentment
The room stank of misery. Stank of blood and worse.
Dimly lit, so its sole occupant could see what was left of himself, it was a cave hidden just outside reality. No one could reach it. No one could rescue its prisoner. No one could find it but the one who'd created it.
He hadn't been here in months. His prisoner wasn't fun anymore. Limbless, speechless, starved and dying, he'd been tormented past the point of sanity. There was no satisfaction in damaging him further. Not when he'd embraced the pain and turned it to a shield against his captor. Not even twisting the demon blood within him could get his attention anymore.
Luo Binghe stood over the limp figure hanging from the wall. Only a few hours earlier he'd lain in the arms of a man almost exactly like this one in face and voice. Almost like, except for the strange gentleness, the concern for another Luo Binghe entirely. All mistakenly turned on him.
That other Luo Binghe infuriated him. It wasn't fair. How did a crybaby like that get a kind, gentle, Shizun? Whereas all he had was this wreck of a man, this shit of a human being, destroyed and ruined after years of abusing those around him. His own sins come back to him ten, no, a hundred-fold.
It was embarrassing. The other Luo Binghe had beaten him into the dirt. He'd managed to throw the crybaby into his world but hadn't reckoned with his counterpart's determination to return. And once those two were together again, he could tell there'd be no way to steal the crybaby's Shizun away. Because beneath the womanly tears and softness was a demon as or more dangerous than he was himself. One who would protect his love with a ferocity Luo Binghe, himself, couldn't match. One that other Shizun would protect with equal care.
For that matter, the other Shizun had no reason to come with him. He could see the knowledge in the man's eyes. Impossibly, that Shizun knew what he'd done in his own world. Known the tortures he'd put his own Shen Qingqiu through. Knew and was terrified of him. Knew and would never, ever, trust him. Nor, to be fair, should he be expected to.
He'd left those two to their own devices. Returned to his world. Returned to this cave, knowing what he'd find. Dead or dying, the bastard would be hanging there, ruined and useless to anyone except as fertilizer. He was right, too. All that was left was an empty shell, a silent, useless, lump of flesh.
He lifted the man's face. Saw nothing in the remaining eye staring emptily back at him. Found nothing left of the beautiful, disdainful, expression that had been the bastard's mask. Just wreck and ruin, as he'd always intended. His only regret, never managing to break past the facade to find the pathetic little bastard beneath.
"I could fuck you," he muttered, remembering those books his not-wife had written. They'd turned him on. Made him want to try them out. His body still ached with the desire, the need to dominate. His heart still ached with the knowledge that he'd never have the Shizun he'd most wanted. "Would you like that, Shizun?"
"Really? Necrophilia now? What's the point?"
Startled, he raised his head. Stared. "Shizun?" To his horror, his voice broke. It wasn't possible. Shen Qingqiu was right in front of him, torn and rotting body hanging from its chains.
The figure leaning against the wall didn't quite look like the Shizun he remembered. For one thing, he was translucent. For another, he seemed oddly young. Even a bit fragile. He wore Shizun's robes, but they were far too big. He looked like a boy pretending to be grown.
A surprised look crossed the figure's face. "Oh. You can hear and see me? Must be because this is where I died." He looked thoughtful. "I don't remember. Did we get as far as teaching you about resentful spirits and how to deal with them?"
Luo Binghe rose. "Do you want to die?"
"I think I have already... beast. Or haven't you noticed I'm a little insubstantial here?"
Still confused, partly from the trip back and forth between the worlds, partly from the injuries he'd taken fighting his counterpart and the other Shizun, Luo Binghe stood up. Drew his sword. "You're a ghost?" It was a stupid question, but he couldn't help it.
"Why yes. A ghost. The consequence of being ripped half to pieces and left to starve for months." Dark eyes met his, sharp and full of pain. "Was that really necessary, by the way? I admit, I was a horrible bastard to you, but I didn't do anything that'd kill you."
"You killed Haitang's family," Luo Binghe growled. "Abandoned her to face the loss alone!"
To his satisfaction, the ghost flinched, guilt suffusing his young face like a child caught in the act. "Ah... True. That's on me. I'll grant my head was on the chopping block for that one." His eyes narrowed, "But you weren't torturing me for Haitang's sake, were you? Just your own."
"What about Liu Qingge?" Another of his crimes. Another of Luo Binghe's wives left brotherless.
This time the guilt wasn't as strong. "I don't know what happened.... I was...." The ghost's voice broke. "Never mind."
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"What part of resentful ghost don't you understand, beast?"
Luo Binghe couldn't help asking, "Resentful ghost?"
"I swear I taught you that much. You should have killed me quicker. Two or three months is plenty of time to build up bitterness. Especially when most of that is spent being tortured, all topped off with one's best friend's murder into the bargain." Those dark eyes looked near tears. "That part's what really hurt, by the way. I could have dealt with the rest. But you went and killed Yue Qingyuan when he never did anything to you except be my friend. For what little that was worth to him."
Luo Binghe swung his sword through the figure. A useless gesture. It swung through unimpeded.
"That pretty sword of yours is good for cutting through reality. For making your wishes come true. Looks like it's not so good against my sort." The ghost leaned on his own dead body, smirking. "You'll have to find an exorcist. Good luck with that."
The smug expression was infuriating. "Why good luck?"
"You'll have to explain to him or her what you did. Not a lot of exorcists in the world who'd sympathize with a murderer trying to get his victim to go away." A shrug. "On the other hand, you seem to only hear me in here, so I suppose you'll be fine if you don't mind knowing I'm following you around, helpless and unable to do anything about you except mock. Oh, I've gotten very good at that."
Following him around? "How long have you been with me?" A horrifying suspicion rose in his heart.
The bastard's lips twisted with pure malice. "Long enough to have seen what you just did." He stepped back from what remained of his body. "Couldn't get that other, fake, Shen Qingqiu to give it up, so you have to rape what little is left of me? Be my guest. Oh, wait. I guess that makes it consenting necrophilia, not rape."
The words were filled with deadly scorn, but the man's expression twisted with pain and self-mockery. Luo Binghe stared at that face, so different from the cold, beautiful, features of his hated Shizun. Different and yet the same. Why? It took him a moment to realize it was the eyes. He'd seen that ache in them before, when the bastard thought no one was looking at him.
The scorn still stung. "Damn you."
"You already have. You get to walk free. Fuck whomever you want. Have whatever you want. All I get is to be compost and a whisper in the dark that you can't hear."
"It isn't fair." He hadn't meant to say that. "Why does that crybaby get a good kindly Shizun and all I get is you?"
The bitter expression turned thoughtful. "He isn't me. I don't know what happened in that world, but that Shen Qingqiu never lived the life I did. If he had, he'd never be able to love anyone. His body might be the same, but not the spirit. Hell, he doesn't even have the curse."
"The... curse?"
Pulling his robe open, the ghost pointed to his chest, revealing a twisted tangled knot of bloody roots glittering inside him. "This curse. To burn with desire every day of my life. To quench my thirst at all the wrong fountains. To gain what I ask for, only to have it bring me down. Oh, and to be completely incapable of making the right choices of my own volition." He glared down at the thing bitterly. "It's a blood curse, so before you ask, it wasn't something I did. It's just because I was born. You want unfair? That's unfair."
"If that other Shizun's body's the same, though...."
A sigh. "I'm dead and rotting and I still have to be your teacher? Fine. It's a blood curse in that it afflicts the men of my family. It works by attaching itself to the spirit, like right now. So if that other Shizun's spirit got changed somehow the curse is gone too. Hope he isn't planning on kids."
Welcoming the distraction, Luo Binghe demanded, "What did your family do to deserve this?"
Dark eyes rolled. "How should I know? My first memory is begging on the streets for a band of slavers. No father. No mother... unless you count Yue Qingyuan. It doesn't get much better afterwards." Again that anguished look. What had happened to him before he'd become a cultivator? No one had ever told Luo Binghe and he'd never asked.
Changing the subject, the ghost patted his own dead skull. "So, now I'm dead, may I suggest feeding what's left to the dogs? I realize no one comes here but you, but I'm sure I'm starting to stink. Besides, it's not like there's much left for you to do with me."
It occurred to Luo Binghe the ghost was a little too anxious for that. "I could resurrect you. You know there are ways. I could force you to become that Shen Qingqiu."
The ghost scoffed. "It'd never work." He eyed his body. "There might be a teensy bit of life left in there. You might be able to regenerate my limbs. Fix my eye. Put my tongue back where it belongs. Or there's that fruit... the one that can make a fresh new body for a lost spirit. What you can't do is make me love anyone." His expression sharpened again, along with his voice. "Especially not the man who killed Yue Qingyuan for wanting to protect me." Cold air blew, swirled round Luo Binghe, stinking of hate and anguish. "I was fine with dying. Fine with letting you have your fun with me. I. Was. Not. Fine. With. You. Killing. Yue Qingyuan."
Somehow, Luo Binghe pushed the cold away. All that resentment and it was all for another's sake? Was this the selfish embittered man he'd thought Shen Qingqiu was? He stared at the youthful figure, the boy pretending to be a man and failing. How had he gotten him so wrong all those years? Was there something inside this man that could have become that other Shen Qingqiu after all? Could he be that Shen Qingqiu now?
But, no. Yue Qingyuan's death would always be between him and this spirit. The damage he'd done to the things his Shizun loved was real and permanent. Even Ying Ying grieved over the destruction of the Quiet Peak. There was nothing to be done about it. No way to make things better as things stood.
Suddenly another solution occurred to him. Risky, deadly if he failed. Worth it if it worked. He swung his sword. Stabbed it through reality itself. Focused his thoughts. Smiled fiercely as he returned it to its sheath. "Maybe you're right. Maybe this you can't forgive the things I've done. Given, of course, that I've done any of those things at all."
All he had to do was reach back. Reach back and change the world again.
#
He watched the monster stand there with his arms crossed, as if waiting for something important. When he felt a shift in his Self, an urge to return to his flesh and blood, he struggled to break free. No. That wasn't what he wanted. Stuck in a dead body again? An empty shell, waiting to become dog food? To become dog shit? He wanted to scream and couldn't.
Then he realized what the monster had done. What he planned. What he thought. "Oh. Of course. That damned sword. That blasted dream demon of his." He stared at the floor through his remaining eye, stared at the ground blankly, feeling the world change.
He fought back. Held his ground and stayed exactly where he was. Let the monster have his way. Let him change his reality. He wasn't cooperating. "Going to try for a brand new Shizun? Be my guest." He laughed bitterly. Whispered, "Hoping for some sweet virgin ass while you're at it?"
"You're in for a surprise."