Archive of Our Own

There were no soulmates in the universe of PIDW.

It was weird, but a lot of things here were—televisions but no long distance communication, anyone?—and the idea of a blackened stallion protagonist being so beholden to anyone didn't fit with Airplane's vision.

That was the accepted reason for it to be a soulmate-less universe among fans, anyway. Shen Yuan had suspected that Airplane was actually like him—a bitter sadsack who was either destined to be thirty-plus years older than their soulmate, or never get a soulmate at all.

Plus, it didn't really lend itself to papapa with an ever expanding menagerie of wives. Soulmates shared a mind-space and could swap or occupy each other's bodies at will, and adding soulmates would mean separating the stallion from his heavenly pillar, and wouldn't that be a horror.

(Privately, Shen Yuan was a little sad that Luo Binghe would never be able to experience the supposed safety and comfort of having someone else take over when you just couldn't manage it, or having someone to talk with in your shared mind-space, or provide a wholly different way of living, but it wasn't like he knew the feeling either. Maybe that's why he kept reading that shitty webnovel for so long; it felt like someone finally understood how lonely being soulmate-less could be.)

So when he died to food poisoning only to wake up in the body of the book's scum villain, Shen Qingqiu, he was extremely confused to see that telltale red string tied to his pinkie.

...And even more confused to see the other end tied to the fucking protagonist, who seemed completely unaware it existed at all.

Hey, System, what the FUCK is this?!

【 Host's soulmate is 'Luo Binghe' (˵ •̀ ᴗ •́ ˵ ) ✧ 】

I can see that. WHY. Proud Immortal Demon Way doesn't have soulmates!

【 Host's world does. Isn't Host happy to finally meet his soulmate? 】

Happy to meet the guy who would he would be blackening by shoving into hell, and who, in revenge, was probably going to turn him into a human stick about eight years from now, soulmate or not? No! And why the hell was Shen Qingqiu Luo Binghe's soulmate?! Wasn't that the worst possible choice?! If anyone could make Luo Binghe overcome the compulsion to safeguard his soulmate, wouldn't it be Shen Qingqiu?!

Shen Qingqiu sighed. Maybe this was the real reason he couldn't put down that stupid webnovel—but, really, whose soulmate was a fictional character, huh?! If Shen Qingqiu ever met god, he was going to wring his stupid shitty neck.

Maybe one day the protagonist would find some way to overcome the bond and destroy it—if anyone could, he could!—but Shen Qingqiu wasn't nearly as strong. Nor did he want to be.

And, anyway, even if they hadn't been soulmates, white lotus Luo Binghe was just too cute! Who could resist those starry black eyes and soft-faced good looks pulled into a pitiable puppy pout? Who could resist getting to eat the protagonist's legendary cooking every day? Who could look away from his earnest determination to be someone Shen Qingqiu could be proud of? Nobody!!

And he was supposed to be hugging the protagonist's thighs, hopefully until he would be less inclined to destroy all his limbs. This was how he saved himself.

(He conveniently ignored that letting the protagonist do his laundry, dust, and sweep the floors like some beleaguered Cinderella-type was in direct contradiction of that goal, and in fact only furthered Shen Qingqiu's quality of life and the amount of time he spent with said protagonist.)

And in this way—watching Luo Binghe grow from a cute puppy, to a driven and easily flustered teen, to a powerful young cultivator and cocky brat who was all too willing to test his flirty lines on his old man Shizun—the day of the Immortal Alliance Conference inevitably drew near.

He couldn't do it.

He couldn't.

Not to the innocent lamb he had raised.

Not to his white lotus, who had been indulged and adored and guided and was leaps and bounds ahead of his PIDW counterpart for it.

Not to his soulmate, whose unguarded pain echoed through that thin red string like a poison.

His precious boy was stammering, bloodless, terrified tears in his eyes and the Heavenly Demon's mark bright on his forehead, and Shen Qingqiu longed for nothing more than to just hold him.

He couldn't do it.

Something in him cracked down the middle.

"How long have you studied under me, Binghe?" he asked as the timer went from 3:00 to 2:59.

The pain in their bond seared. "Three years, Sh-Shizun."

"And how long have you been double-timing me, calling another master 'shizun', hm? What an unfilial disciple I have."

"I would never!" his precious, precious disciple burst out. Fat tears broke free, and oh, this shizun's old heart really couldn't handle it! "But. I have been receiving instruction on how to use d-demonic qi for the past t-two y-years." Then, "...Shizun?"

"Binghe."

"Yes, Shizun?"

Shen Qingqiu pulled his backup fan out of his sleeve and a grease pencil out of his qiankun bag, turning the fan to the blank side and writing on it hastily. "You've been running Qing Jing peak better than I ever could." He stowed the fan back in his sleeve. "Thank you."

"...Shizun?"

Shen Qingqiu reached for his belt as the timer dipped below 2:20 and removed Xiu Ya's sheath, sword in place. "This master is sorry, but he'll need to continue imposing on his disciple for now."

Too baffled to even cry, his painfully lovable bun watched him with wide eyes.

Removing his qiankun bag, Shen Qingqiu shoved both sheath and bag into his startled disciple's arms, then cupped his wet face in both hands, his red string laying delicately on the boy's shoulder and curling around his back to tie around his right pinkie. Tilting his disciple's face down—aiya, when had the boy gotten so tall?—he pressed a kiss to the glowing mark.

"Shizun?" Luo Binghe rasped, weak and overwrought, still pouring demonic qi out of every pore as the countdown approached one minute.

Shen Qingqiu moved his hands to the boy's shoulders. "It is not safe for you here. Go."

Then he braced himself, squeezed, and pushed.

The look of pure shock on Luo Binghe's face as he tumbled into the abyss's unfeeling void would be branded into Shen Qingqiu's heart forever.

He waited an eternity there, frozen, until the System's shitty Google Translate voice told him that he had completed the quest and been awarded the points.

Then he willed his red string of fate into corporeality, wrapped it twice around his hand, and pulled.

When he opened his eyes, he was deeply relieved to see that he was at the bottom of the abyss, every bone in his body broken and the sword and bag clutched in both hands.

Good boy, Binghe.

Stepping out of a body filled only with clean qi and into another with raging demonic energy swamping his mind and body took him a minute—probably, maybe ten, maybe hundreds—to adjust to, and when he came back to himself, he was full of nothing but pain.

Fuck. How did those blood parasites work again...?

It took him another bit to find the part of him that directed them, and another to figure out how to get them to knit his broken body back together properly, and then, just like that, he was healed.

Ahhh, such was the power of a Heavenly Demon! Truly, his Binghe was the most impressive person in all the three realms.

He had never attempted to join mind-spaces with his soulmate before—not a tug of possession or even a sliver of conversation, first out of fear of the protagonist, then out of respect for their age difference, then out of habit—so Binghe's body was entirely unfamiliar to him.

He was... fit. Much fitter than a seventeen year old boy had the right be. Strong. Less dexterous than the immortal Xiu Ya Sword, but not shabby at all. All those sword drills Shen Qingqiu had lingered over just for a chance to watch his hero in action had left their mark.

He was also horny. Amusingly so. The hungry, low level buzz of 'fuck or fight' simmering in his veins was not only stronger than anything Shen Qingqiu had felt since transmigrating, but stronger than he had felt in his life before, too, even back when masturbation had been his main hobby after reading PIDW.

No wonder Bing-ge's harem had been so large. This kind of pressure could drive a man insane left unattended for long. Hadn't Xin Mo only made it worse?

He lit a candle in his heart for his poor little lamb. How sweet and polite he was, even through this! Truly, the willpower of a protagonist... though it did beg the question of why his current harem was so slow to start. If he was always this needy, shouldn't any pretty shijie or shimei do?

Ah, well. It meant that Shen Qingqiu had gotten to eat Luo Binghe's incredible food every day, so he couldn't complain too much.

With any luck, he may yet be able to taste Luo Binghe's delicacies once again!

With this cheering thought in mind, he picked a vaguely familiar landmark in the distance and set off walking through the red-bathed, inhospitable landscape.

【 Entering Hibernation Mode... 】

【 ERROR: Hibernation aborted. Please disconnect power source 'Luo Binghe' and try again. 】

【 Entering Hibernation Mode... 】

【 ERROR: Hibernation aborted. Please disconnect power source 'Luo Binghe' and try again. 】

【 Entering Hibernation Mode... 】

【 ERROR: Hibernation aborted. Please disconnect— 】

Staring into the very rift he had just been shoved into, Luo Binghe felt the strange, demonic voice ricochet through his skull, a mocking counterpart to the sensation that things were very, very wrong.

He was... cold. Cold? Calm? Chilled? Quiet. Everything was quiet, like someone had lined his senses in cloth.

His master's not-quite-impassive face being swallowed up by darkness as Luo Binghe clutched his last gifts to his chest was all he could remember, except—he wasn't in the rift. He was outside of the rift. And everything was strange.

He jerked as he realized his master would still be here. He looked around frantically, calling, "Shizun? Shizun?!"

His voice was strange.

A blue transparent rectangle popped into the air next to him. That same demonic voice read aloud the words that appeared on it. 【 User 02 is unavailable at this moment. 】

"...User zero-two?"

【 User 02 is the holder of the account 'Shen Qingqiu'. 】

Luo Binghe cycled through the words he knew the definitions of separately, trying to make them form some sort of coherent concept. He failed.

"Then... where is he?"

【 ... 】

【 ... 】

【 This System does not know. 】

【 'Shen Qingqiu' account holder privileges were unexpectedly transferred to 'Luo Binghe'. 】

Luo Binghe looked down and saw a very different perspective on robes he washed every week. Willowy, graceful hands looked like they were gliding through water when he opened his palms. There was no qiankun bag, nor sword at his hip.

"Qingqiu-shidi!"

Luo Binghe's head snapped up, instinctively looking for his Shizun, but he found no one. Instead, Sect Leader Yue and Liu Qingge were hurrying towards him.

Because, for all appearances, he was Shizun now.

"Qingqiu-shidi!" said Sect Leader Yue as he approached, looking more strained than Luo Binghe had ever seen him. "Are you alright?"

...How would Shizun react in these circumstances? Surely Luo Binghe hadn't been watching his every fidget and micro-expression for the past three years for nothing.

Reeling with countless questions and feeling like he was desecrating something holy, Luo Binghe pulled Shizun's favorite fan from his sleeve and opened it in a gesture that came easily to his muscle memory. "Yue-shixiong, Liu-shidi. I am unharmed. Did you find the disciples in time?"

"Many are still missing," said Sect Leader heavily. He looked pained. "Including Luo-shizhi. I'm sorry, Xi—Qingqiu-shidi. We will keep looking."

Luo Binghe muffled the surge of delight that his shishu would single him out as the one whose disappearance was most likely to upset Shizun. The man may say he doesn't have a favorite, but...

【 +50 protagonist satisfaction points! 】

He shook himself out of it internally, and cast a carefully calculated dark look at the abyss. "Don't... don't. I saw him. He..." He swallowed, the way Shizun did when he was holding back some great emotion, then closed his eyes in pain.

He was a little touched at how horrified the sect leader looked at that. "Xiao Jiu..."

Liu Qingge reached out and gripped his shoulder too tightly, his iron grip bruising, and Luo Binghe wanted to snap his teeth. Not only was that beast touching his shizun so familiarly, but he was treating him so roughly! Not that Luo Binghe would find it a comfort if he was as gentle as someone like Shizun deserved, but really!

"Zheng Yang shattered," he said, instead of acting on his revulsion. "The shards... I want to..."

"Collect them, then rejoin us," the sect leader commanded gently. Then, he asked, "What happened to Xiu Ya?"

What had happened to Xiu Ya? If Luo Binghe was maintaining that 'Luo-shizhi fell into the abyss', then...? For that matter, why had Shizun given it to a lowly disciple who had just shattered his own spirit sword? Why would he think to...

...Oh. He had intended to switch. Luo Binghe felt a little silly for having taken this long to realize it. That still left a whole lot of questions—first and foremost, why even push him in the first place?—and it didn't give him a clean answer for the sect leader, but it was... something.

Thinking fast, he summoned a faintly rueful look over his sadness, and said, "I, ah... He was unarmed, so I threw it in after him." It was an absolutely terrible reason, but he could probably defend it... somehow.

Sect Leader Yue's face said that he was a shade of dignity away from facepalming. "Of course you did."

Liu Qingge just sighed.

Neither of them questioned it, even so much as to ask why. Like they didn't doubt that Shizun would simply give up his own spirit sword for Luo Binghe's use in an inescapable hell. Like it was in character for Shizun to care that deeply for his personal disciple.

【 +100 protagonist satisfaction points! 】

...Something to consider later, when he didn't need to control his expression.

Sect Leader Yue and Liu Qingge left him to scrounge around in the dirt for poor Zheng Yang, wondering if it would be too suspicious to call out to the fragments with his qi, and if they would even respond at all. His very veins were cooler than he was used to.

【 Excellent acting, Host. +50 B-points! 】

When they disappeared, he pulled out the fan that he'd seen Shizun scribble on right before pushing him.

On the plain white inside was written, Back soon. Be good. Lo-

Luo Binghe stared at the half-written character that was almost definitely love for a very long moment, feeling his face grow uncommonly hot, and then realized that anyone could walk up and see such an enchanting sight as his shizun blushing and instantly fall in love, and wrangled down the feeling with great prejudice.

【 Protagonist possessiveness points +100! 】

"Okay," Luo Binghe said, once he couldn't see, hear, or feel anyone close enough to hear him. "Who—or what—are you, what are these 'points' you keep telling me about, and," he let his voice go poisonously sweet, "what is your business with my Shizun?"

【 ... (°∆°|||) !! 】

Blood parasites were by far the funnest part of being Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu found. He'd always thought they were woefully underused in PIDW. Bing-ge mostly used the power in three ways: healing, taking control of the victim's body, and 'your head go a-splode'.

But! There were so many possible uses for a liquid so heavily laden with demonic qi that could be controlled almost down to a cell!

Shen Qingqiu made liberal use of the 'your head go a-splode' ability, but also mixed it into poisonous water and filtered it to a drinkable state, skinned beasts with scalpel-esque precision, and relied on it to move his own body long after he would have dropped from exhaustion. He bled on Xiu Ya and coated its edges in the stuff, made it sharper and more durable than any polish or whetstone could manage, and also made sure he could recall it from anywhere, whether or not he had the arms to make a sword seal at all.

He had thus far been very good at keeping all his limbs intact, but... it was the Endless Abyss. He could hardly escape being snacked on forever.

(Xiu Ya didn't like it very much, but seemed to understand the necessity. He wished there were ways to make up non-consensual body modification up to a borderline sentient object, but a sword didn't want for much that he wasn't already giving it (or could give it at this time).)

He couldn't reach the System at all, which was a bit concerning. Instead, he had Meng Mo, who seemed to be keeping his distance for now. That was fine by him; he still wasn't sure how, Your host is my soulmate and that means we can switch places! Weird, huh? No, I cannot explain this or why I know it, just trust me, would go down with the dream demon.

He skipped most of the harem addition sidequests. He may have avoided the protagonist's blackening and his own stickification (he really, really hoped he'd avoided those), but he was still a little leery of touching any of Bing-ge's women—and, anyway, none of the demonesses here were even permanent additions. Bing-ge had never returned to the abyss after escaping, not even to collect wives; most of them had just been empty papapa plots with so much potential that went nowhere.

Fucking Airplane.

It was impossible to count the days, and Shen Qingqiu stayed awake as much as he could help it (who knew if Binghe even had the protagonist halo after switching? If he did, would it stay with his body or soul?), but he followed the path he had long memorized from Luo Binghe's original journey, and was pleased to be making as fast a pace as he seemed to be.

Aah, Binghe! Don't worry! Your shizun will return your body shortly!! ...In a minute. Or a lot of minutes. He's working on it.

Apparently, it was the System who forced Shizun to push him into the Endless Abyss. Under threat of death.

Every time Luo Binghe remembered that fact, he wondered why he had let that scum live.

The creature had offered quite a lot in apology for its bit, and while no number of rewards would ever make up for threatening his shizun like that, he had secured this 'account' 'universal admin privileges' (the highest amount of control possible, as far as he'd been able to find), uprooted the hooks this thing had in Shizun's soul, and made certain that all that thing's demands would be entirely optional and compensated appropriately.

(He felt the System shiver in the back of his mind, and a weak, very transparent blue window popped up to his left that read, 【 Protagonist bloodlust points +50... 】)

The System assured him that 'User 02' could and would escape the Endless Abyss eventually, as his last note had promised, and physically could not die, as the body he inhabited belonged to Luo Binghe, who was functionally invincible, which did much to soothe Luo Binghe's soul.

Something else that gave him no end of satisfaction (according to the System) was how much his shishu and fellow disciples expected Shizun to be absolutely wrecked by the loss of Luo Binghe.

They spoke softly, treated him like glass, shot him worried looks when they thought he wasn't looking, brought him gifts, determinedly 'distracted him from his woes', offered hugs—you'd think Shizun had lost an only child (or, he sometimes thought with a daring little flutter, a spouse) with the way they treated the whole thing.

It gave him a convenient cover for why he was naturally more serious and less affectionate than the Shizun they know. Headpats were given out sparingly when he remembered he was supposed to give them, the aloof immortal smile was put on when he remembered he was supposed to be wearing it, and all his paperwork was completed much more studiously than anyone had expected from their lackadaisical Shizun. This, too, was grief, according to most of them.

(Shizun's muscle memory disguised Luo Binghe's handwriting, which was a relief. He'd never gotten around to fully copying his shizun's brushwork, and it really would be suspicious if the paperwork Ming Fan took away had been mysteriously filled out by a dead disciple instead.)

"I'm really glad you're doing as well as you are, Shizun," Ning-shijie confided to him one day as she set down a tray of very unfortunate congee. "Everyone knew how much you adored A-Luo. We were... we were really worried."

Adored.

【 Protagonist satisfaction points +50! 】

"Who did this master 'adore', now?" Luo Binghe grumped, hand twitching for his fan like Shizun always had when his thin face was threatened.

Ning-shijie just gave him a knowing smile. "Have you put any thought into taking on new disciples, Shizun? It's that time of year again..."

For the past three years, ever since the qi deviation, Shizun had refused to take on new disciples. It was unclear why. He always radiated a slight sense of wistfulness as he looked at the young disciples of other peaks, and the dormitories were slowly emptying as the previous occupants aged out of them. It wasn't like they lacked resources or prestige, and Shizun loved to dote on little ones.

Thusly, the choice presented to Luo Binghe was between respecting what Shizun said he wanted, and what would almost definitely make Shizun happy. After three years of carefully manipulating Shizun into things that would make him happy against his will, the answer was obvious.

"Mm," he said, and smiled with that thread of wistfulness he'd seen so many times. "I think... perhaps. This master will be relying on your help this year as well, Yingying."

An odd expression crossed his shijie's face, like she wanted to dance and cry at once, but all she did was cup her hands and say, "Of course! Thanking Shizun for the honor."

He waved a lazy hand. "Dismissed."

Alone once again, he regarded the congee with mild distaste. He couldn't cook, because the real Shen Qingqiu tended to light inflammable objects on fire when standing in the vicinity of a kitchen, but, truly, did the peak have no better cooks than whoever made this?

...Perhaps he should instate a class for that while Shizun was gone. Find a half-decent chef from the surrounding villages and offer them a salaried position to improve the morale of the peak through food. He would have to talk it over with the hallmasters, the head disciple (ugh), Shang-shishu...

He hoped that Shizun would approve of what he'd done with Qing Jing Peak in his absence. Maybe it would even show his skills as a peak lord's companion enough to... to make Shizun think of him as reliable, maybe even reliable enough to earn the title of... of... of shiniang one day...

Luo Binghe vigorously shook off such thoughts, very aware that it wasn't his body he was getting excited in, and determined not to disrespect his revered master in that way.

Protagonist, forgive me, Shen Qingqiu thought as he looked at the (impressively copious) gloopy white mess on the ground in front of him. I've disrespected you terribly.

In his defense, the boy was horny. He had fully intended to keep his hands to himself, but after a run in with something that was probably a mild sex pollen, the sheer desperation for release had gotten in the way of his ability to fight.

His feelings about learning intimately how to make this body feel good were... complicated.

It was, of course, a classic perk of having (of being) a soulmate—something Shen Yuan had never thought to expect for himself. A stupid romance novel cliche about the sex being incredible because you were allowed into every last nook and cranny, could learn your soulmate inside and out.

He'd thought it was stupid. He still thought it was stupid. This was the protagonist—he was not only destined for great sex, but great sex with nearly everyone who wasn't his scummy teacher. The fact that Shen Qingqiu now knew exactly where and how hard to rub to make Luo Binghe's young, overeager spine shudder was... pointless. It was pointless.

(...He could probably take Luo Binghe apart in minutes, endless stamina be damned, if he tried. And he was never going to.)

Okay, said the ratcheting voice of the dream demon in the back of his mind. Who the hell are you?

"Meng Mo?"

That's me. The presence loomed, enveloped, and retreated. I've been watching you. You know too much.

He still hadn't come up with a good excuse for Meng Mo.

"Shifu..."

HA, the demon barked. Hearing that in his voice... You're definitely not him. But I could get used to it real easy. It'd be a nice break from all that, 'Shizun, Shizun, Shizun,' that brat won't shut up about. Gonna keep the body?

"'Shizun'?" Shen Qingqiu asked, ignoring the hopeful tone Meng Mo said the last bit in. Demons were just like that, he reminded himself. No need to go ballistic on this one for not protecting his little white lotus well enough.

He's the only thing that brat talks about! said Meng Mo, deeply exasperated, and Shen Qingqiu's heart twitched a little. No women, no conquering, no killing, just, 'ooh Shizun smiled today, I'll make Shizun cakes today, do you think Shizun will praise me today?' It never stops! I haven't heard it from you once. Massive upgrade. A pause. Why the hell are you happy about that.

"Who's 'happy'?" Shen Qingqiu snapped, feeling his face heat with Luo Binghe's too-ready blush. He wished he had a fan. So maybe it was nice to hear his soulmate talked about him when he wasn't around. So what? Shen Qingqiu was just... just... oh, never mind! "No, I'm not keeping the body. I'm giving it back after we leave the abyss."

Uhh, hate to break it to you, but there is no way out. They don't call it 'endless' for fun.

"There are ways," said Shen Qingqiu with finality. Or, well, there was at least one way. He looked down at the mess in front of him and winced. But first... a way to rehydrate.

In the end, Luo Binghe brought home two shimei and two shidi. Two street rats, one who shouldn't go back to the home she came from, and a rich young master who reminded him of Shizun—thin-faced, aloof, spoiled but kind in spite of it.

Ning-shijie gave him another fond, knowing look for his choices, and he fluttered Shizun's fan and ignored her.

And then, of course, Without a Cure needed tending to again.

His sudden inclination towards taking care of his health was something that baffled everyone who knew Shizun well, and had been rather difficult to pass off as grief. Binghe would have wanted me to, was the only excuse he gave that seemed to hold any weight with them, and even that was on thin ice. Giving up his spiritual sword was expected, but submitting to being cared for was too far? Shizun! Please!!

It wasn't as if Luo Binghe liked it. He had to let Liu Qingge (ugh) touch his Shizun (ugh), and be polite enough to the man that he wouldn't instantly suspect possession (ugh!!). Who would enjoy that!!

(He pushed aside the vinegar-flavored suspicion that maybe Shizun did.)

【 Protagonist jealousy points +20! 】

At least his qi wasn't his own. When Liu Qingge's icy qi flowed through his meridians, cleansing away the blockages, there was nothing there to make him suspect that Shen Qingqiu wasn't who he thought he was.

During one such cleansing, Liu Qingge interrupted the awkward silence to say, "You're healing. Good."

Luo Binghe looked up with a blink. "Healing?" From... Without a Cure? he wondered, then saw that Liu Qingge's gaze was fixed on Zheng Yang, currently hung on the wall.

"You took new disciples." An expression that was almost a smile crossed the brute's face. "After Luo-shizhi died, we didn't think you would."

"Yes, well..." Luo Binghe fumbled in the most Shizun-like way he could manage, holding up Shizun's fan, trying to hide his mild panic at not having come up with a suitable excuse for his un-Shizun-like choices. "It seemed like time."

The brute had no response to that, which was a relief.

(It did make Luo Binghe feel a little better that Liu Qingge acknowledged Luo Binghe's incredible importance to Shizun. See? Luo Binghe was winning.)

Luo Binghe's goodwill lasted until he was showing the brute to the door.

"You should pick another personal disciple from the new ones," he said. "You're lonely."

And then he was gone before Luo Binghe could put Zheng Yang through his ribs, which was good for Shizun's reputation as a righteous cultivator, but bad for Luo Binghe's heart.

The things this disciple does for you, Shizun!! You had better appreciate it properly!! Or he wouldn't be able to speak for the fate of anyone who tried to replace him!!!

【 Protagonist jealousy points +100... ( ' ﹋ ' ;;) 】

Good news: Shen Qingqiu found Xin Mo.

Bad news: Xin Mo was unusable.

Not because of any objective measure—it was exactly where it was supposed to be, nearly begging to be claimed—but the idea of binding either himself or his precious bun to a sword that was very aptly named 'Heart Demon' was revolting. The same kind of revolting as making his soulmate undertake this journey as a vulnerable young sprout.

Which meant he needed another way out.

He spent an unfortunately long while traversing this hell realm trying to find it, and came up empty-handed time and time again. Nobody could predict when another abyssal rift would open. Nobody knew what magic had the capacity to traverse the barrier. Nobody even knew how Xin Mo did it, other than the whole 'so sharp it can cut the fabric of reality' reasoning.

Which led him back here, studying the cursed artifact as though he could divine its secrets by just looking at it.

And drawing out a bunch of diagnostic arrays. Those helped too.

He gleaned a lot of information from those arrays, but unfortunately, not much about how the teleportation aspect worked. He did glean that it was created from the... flesh? Bone? Body? Of the first heavenly demon, and that the rage stored within it was a direct consequence of that demon's personality, rather than a side effect of the power. Reassuring! Kind of.

"Do you think you could be sharp enough to do it if I souped you up enough?" he asked Xiu Ya idly.

Meng Mo snorted derisively in the back of his mind, but Xiu Ya pulsed in contemplation. It was not meant to be sharp. It was meant for beauty and learning, growth and elegance.

But it was already like this, wasn't it? Indelibly tattooed with a heavenly demon's blood, channeling filthy power like it was its own. It would never be pure again, not truly. What it was meant to be didn't matter anymore. There was only there here and the now, and in the here and the now, Shen Qingqiu needed to return to Luo Binghe's side, and he needed to do it without Xin Mo.

Perhaps it could be that sharp, if it was needful.

Shen Qingqiu squeezed his eyes shut, then pressed an apologetic kiss to its pommel. "I'm sorry. I'll teach him how to wield you properly, I swear."

Xiu Ya hummed gentle forgiveness.

It took him a while longer to come up with a way to try to make it happen, and half as long to steel himself to it.

He didn't like pain, okay? Using the blood parasites to remove his bones would be horrific no matter what he did.

But Xin Mo was strong because it was created from the body of a heavenly demon, and, what do you know, Shen Qingqiu had the body of a (half-)heavenly demon on hand.

...Eugh.

He ended up removing three of Luo Binghe's ribs for red marrow to fill Xiu Ya's core, and the bones of his right leg to line Xiu Ya's edges.

He emptied his stomach several times through the process, even as he could feel the blood parasites scurrying to regenerate from the loss. He was a spoiled third son from the modern world!! Why was he made to do things as horrifying and disgusting as this!!

...Because it was for Binghe, and he would do it all over again if he had to. For Binghe.

Fuck.

He had been better off soulmate-less, he lied to himself, and staggered upright to reforge his spirit.

"Um..."

Luo Binghe was taking tea with the An Ding Peak Lord, as his Shizun would, when the man steeled his weak, squirrelly constitution to say something.

Luo Binghe waited patiently, because that was what Shizun would have done, and didn't let his general contempt show, because neither would Shizun.

"Ah, well, this shidi has been wanting to ask Lord Shen something for a while," the man hedged. He was pale and sweaty and stank of nerves.

Luo Binghe fluttered Shizun's fan and inclined his head to show that he was listening.

"Plainly, has Lord Shen ever heard the story, Proud Immortal Demon Way?"

Luo Binghe blinked. "What?"

【 Ding, ding, ding! Information unlocked! Host's world is the world from the webnovel Proud Immortal Demon Way! 】

He stared at the blue rectangle. ...What?

【 ┐(´～｀;)┌ 】

【 Host asked. 】

Shang-shishu was giving him a strange look. "...Then let me ask, does Lord Shen believe in soulmates?"

The question of what the System meant by that was promptly washed away by the second question.

Did Shizun believe in soulmates? His odd sense of romanticism came out at the strangest times.

...If he believed in soulmates, did that make Luo Binghe's feelings more or less likely to be accepted? Was there anything Luo Binghe could do to make Shizun believe he was his soulmate? It was, of course, much to presumptuous to assume a lowly beast like Luo Binghe would be his actual soulmate, but if, perhaps, he could just be good enough to make Shizun think it... Nothing was truly impossible if only one had willpower enough!

【 ...Host... (¬_¬") 】

Ah, this was almost like having Meng Mo back.

He dismissed the window with a thought.

"That is a rather personal question, is it not?" he said haughtily, and sipped at his tea. "Why would Shang-shidi ask?"

The An Ding Peak Lord stared at him in silence for a moment, then heaved a sigh and said, "No reason. Ignore this lowly shidi."

Gladly, Luo Binghe politely did not say, and hummed with an enigmatic smile instead.

The alterations to Xiu Ya worked.

Not as cleanly or as accurately—the volume of half-heavenly demon blood needed to grip at the fabric of reality and then rip it open was terrifying and left a veritable pool behind—but it got Shen Qingqiu out of the Endless Abyss, and that was all he needed.

Well, I'll be, Meng Mo said as Shen Qingqiu stepped through the jagged portal and stroked Xiu Ya's grip soothingly. You did it, kid. Color me impressed.

Shen Qingqiu ignored him in favor of fussing over his sword, which was not having a good time, and looking around. He'd definitely popped out in the demon realm... somewhere, but none of the immediate landmarks rang a bell.

But, hey. At least most of the water here was drinkable!

He gave consideration to what, exactly, he wanted to accomplish in the demon realm on Luo Binghe's behalf as he picked a direction and walked.

Would an unblackened protagonist even want to be an emperor? Wouldn't this be just piling work on his poor lotus's shoulders that he didn't even get to have a say in? Shouldn't he be able to pick his own battles?

...That said, Shen Qingqiu would really like to go home, ideally without walking the entire way on foot.

The first settlement he found was happy to give him directions to the Northern Palace—after he chopped off a few limbs, at least.

Demons.

Seasons passed as Luo Binghe continued to fulfill the duties of Shen Qingqiu.

He didn't pick a new personal disciple, obviously, but he did enjoy seeing new faces in his classes, watching the gaggle cling to each other and stare at the world around them with wonder. Sometimes, it got him to look at the world with new eyes too, and he understood, in those brief moments, Shizun's fondness for children.

Now, if only he were here to be fond of them!!

The System, once sufficiently threatened, coughed up that the original journey through the Endless Abyss, the one it had attempted to sentence Luo Binghe to, had taken five years.

(He'd now learned what a 'webnovel' was—his initial guess of 'novels for spiders' had been shot down immediately; apparently 'web' was a slang term for something else entirely—and only managed to get out that this world was not the only world there was, and in at least one of those other worlds, this world had been documented in a novel, of which he was the protagonist. He wasn't sure how he felt about being the main character of a book (didn't that mean just anyone could read his thoughts?), but as far as he could tell, it didn't affect his life very much, except in his convenient inability to die, and occasionally meant he could be granted information like 'how long does it take to escape an inescapable hell' when it was important.)

【 User 02 has access to information that could make the journey shorter, 】 the System offered during one of his sulks. Then, in a much more translucent window, it added, 【 ...there is no way to tell how much shorter, however. ( . ‸ .) 】 Then, in another, 【 Sorry, Host. 】

He closed all the windows with a blink and a sigh.

He continued to fill out paperwork and let Liu Qingge clear his meridians and pat the heads of the disciples, occasionally taking on a night hunt with Zheng Yang in hand or attending a peak lord meeting as necessary with Ning Yingying and Ming Fan in tow, silently thanking Shizun for letting this lowly disciple take care of so much of his life that he knew exactly how to do it all.

Like that, the trials stole back around the calendar again.

Once again, Luo Binghe found himself on the ridge, casting a critical eye over the numerous holes dug by the children.

After a moment, Liu Qingge stepped forward and pointed out a child with wavy black hair and a decently sized hole, looking slightly beaten and very focused. "You should take that one."

It took a moment of staring for Luo Binghe to recognize the similarities to himself when he was a child. He snapped open his fan and sighed. "I didn't pick Binghe based on his hair, shidi."

...He didn't actually know exactly why he'd been chosen—other than talent, he presumed. It had always been a bit of a mystery to him when Shen Qingqiu hated him so much, so immediately. Was it just because of Ning Yingying?

Liu Qingge grunted, irritated.

Luo Binghe looked at the small boy and then said, "Mu-shidi. That one looks like a good future medic."

"So he does," the doctor agreed placidly, and Luo Binghe smiled Shizun's enigmatic smile behind the fan.

He took home more disciples—more street rats and abused children along with two young masters and a young miss—and he was honestly expecting to catch comments for turning the scholarly peak into an orphanage for beasts, but all he got were soft, understanding smiles and, in Ning Yingying's case, a brief, fierce hug.

Ah, Shizun, your powers of turning people to your side are truly unparalleled, he thought as he took a seat before a tea table and prepared his stomach to accept a truly concerning amount of terrible tea.

He drank a truly concerning amount of terrible tea. He saw the wretched determination in their eyes, the haughty dedication, the earnest desire to do good, and offered each one a smile and told them he looked forward to seeing them grow as scholars and cultivators, and that he expected them not to let him down.

When he'd seen to them all, Ning Yingying popped her head through the door with a brilliant grin—brighter than any he'd seen from her before. "One more, Shizun!"

He opened his fan and tilted his head, very certain that he had only selected seven new disciples, not eight.

Ning Yingying ushered in the last one.

A young man far too old to start in any cultivation sect, with bright black eyes and fine looks that were almost on the edge of feminine, dressed in Qing Jing's disciple robes. Broader and stronger than Luo Binghe had last seen him in the mirror, yet unmistakably the same person. His hair was even tied up in Luo Binghe's preferred fashion.

Luo Binghe stared at himself—at Shizun, because there was no one else it could be—as he cupped his hands and smiled shyly. "Peak Lord Shen, may this lowly one serve you tea?"

Shen Qingqiu used his duel with Mobei-jun as his last chance to show off for a while, a savage grin pulled out of him in the sheer joy of movement. Maybe he couldn't see the fight from the outside, but Bing-ge was wicked cool and who was Shen Qingqiu to not show off his good side? Especially with a sapient audience!

After he carved his way through the ice demon's court, he hid his demonic features and made Mobei-jun teleport him as close to Cang Qiong Mountain as he could get with any kind of subtlety—which turned out to be Shang Qinghua's office.

Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua stared at each other for a moment, and then the (apparent) peak lord squeaked, "Junshang?!" and threw himself to the ground.

Mobei-jun left them without a word.

Shen Qingqiu stared at the man for a long moment, doing some rapid calculations, then said, "No."

Not for lack of encouragement... Kid, seriously, why'd you make an entire fucking sword only to use it ONCE.

Shen Qingqiu pushed Meng Mo back with the ease of increasing practice. "I want to go home, but I can't do that looking like this. Do you have disciple robes for Qing Jing on hand?"

Shang Qinghua, most likely a fellow transmigrator, stared at the protagonist like he'd grown a second head. "Yes, Jun—er. Luo-shizhi. Right away, Ju—Luo-shizhi."

Shen Qingqiu nodded regally and waited.

When he was properly outfitted, he strolled off An Ding Peak and over the rainbow bridge, noting the field of holes on his way up.

Ahh, he'd sort of wanted to pick up a few disciples this time... Looked like he'd just missed it. Ah, well. Next year.

Though... that did give him an idea on how to reintroduce himself to Luo Binghe, who was presumably holding down the fort.

To his surprise, he found Ning Yingying standing just outside the bamboo house with a gaggle of small children in disciple robes, saying, "Now, as soon as Lan-shimei is out, this shijie will show you around the peak. I expect you to be on your best behavior, or retribution will be swift!" She punctuated this with a giggle and a pump of her (meager) bicep, and got a combination of dubious looks and charmed smiles.

"You'd better listen to her," Shen Qingqiu commanded, and gave the new children one of Luo Binghe's polite, distant smiles that had always suited his face so well. "Ning-shijie can be terrifying when she wants to be."

Ning Yingying stared at him like her eyes were about to bug out of her head. Hoarsely, she whispered, "A-Luo?"

Shen Qingqiu cupped his hands respectfully, wishing desperately that he was more familiar with the relationship between these two. Luo Binghe always called her 'Ning-shijie' in Shen Qingqiu's earshot, but surely they weren't that distant in private... were they?

Ah, what a failure of a soulmate he was...

He didn't get much further than that before Ning Yingying broke through the crowd of children to tackle him in a bone-crushing hug. "You're back! You're back? How are you back?! A-Luo—oh, Shizun will be so happy you're back. He's missed you so much. He won't let anyone touch your room, so it's all there waiting for you." She drew back with tears in her eyes. "Don't worry, he took care of his health for you, almost like he knew you'd be back to nag him—where have you been?!"

...Shen Qingqiu still hadn't come up with a decent excuse for where he'd been, which was, perhaps, an oversight. He'd been gone for a year and a half. What on earth would keep a filial disciple away for so long that didn't involve 'got shoved into the Endless Abyss to appease a blue hallucinated motherfucker but it was fine because I'm a heavenly demon who can heal from basically anything'.

But, putting that aside, wasn't it a little strange for the first wife of Luo Binghe to immediately update him on the state of their crusty old Shizun?? (Not that it didn't make him a little happy...)

Still, the boy (...his soulmate) had always been inordinately worried about that crusty old Shizun's health, so Shen Qingqiu ordered his face into a mask of similarly inordinate relief. "Ning-shijie..."

She shook herself. "Of course, you'll want to tell Shizun first—as expected of A-Luo." ...Ah... "Let me—"

She turned to the door, but he grabbed her arm. "Wait." He held the index finger of his free hand up to his lips. "I have an idea."

"Peak Lord Shen, may this lowly one serve you tea?"

The man across the table gave him a consummate poser's light incline, a cool, cutting look, and the exact enigmatic smile Shen Qingqiu had worked so hard to perfect when he'd arrived here—and Shen Qingqiu felt his entire body flush with uncomfortable heat and a lump of something form in the pit of his stomach. "Very well, disciple."

Suppressing the tremor that ran through him, Shen Qingqiu knelt in front of the tea table and began to pour the tea.

When Luo Binghe accepted the cup, he blew lightly at the steam and said, "Tell me, why did you come to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect?"

Shen Qingqiu swallowed, and forced his tone into cheer as he recited right from the pages of PIDW, "This disciple has always admired the many immortal masters on the mountain, their persons and demeanors both. If he can enter the sect and find success in his learning, this disciple's mother in heaven will be able to find peace."

A flicker of surprising warmth flitted below the poser surface of Luo Binghe's borrowed face. "You had a mother? What was your mother like?"

"Mother was the kindest person in all the world to me," Shen Qingqiu said with a much more genuine smile. He'd liked the washerwoman, and even if she'd basically been required to die, she still had a special place in Shen Qingqiu's heart for having raised his favorite protagonist (his soulmate) with so much love.

That was where Luo Binghe left the script behind, instead smiling at Shen Qingqiu with all the fondness Shen Qingqiu would have given him if he'd been in the original goods' place at the time, and said, "Good. Such a soul deserves her rest. Make her proud, ah?"

...Really, it was as expected of the protagonist! Master of anything he put his mind to, especially survival! Now if only his utter mastery of Shen Qingqiu's personality and mannerisms didn't mean something very different to each of them!!

(It was a scene out of a fucking romance movie. To be known inside and out, to be flayed open and studied so intimately, to be recreated with love and honesty—Luo Binghe's world had never heard of the concept of a soulmate as Shen Qingqiu knew them, and yet here he was, presenting Shen Qingqiu with the most ardent declaration one could and he didn't even know it! Damn you, protagonist!!)

"Yes, Shizun," Shen Qingqiu said, with a mortifying quaver on the two simple words, and drank—and then yelped as it burned his tongue and had to send his blood parasites to fix the damage, his face burning.

Luo Binghe flicked open his favorite fan just quick enough to hide the grin, his green eyes turning into happy crescents, and Shen Qingqiu was doing just fine about that, really.

"Would Shizun care to join this disciple for a brief spot of mediation?" he managed, face still red. Their string was draped between the cups and looped through the handle of the teapot. "He may find it... enlightening."

A mild undercurrent of surprise, then he nodded silently and closed his eyes, setting down his cup and shifting into a meditation pose without moving from his spot.

Shen Qingqiu took a deep breath and followed suit.

When Luo Binghe opened his eyes, it was to a pitch black void with one other occupant.

It was a young man, dressed oddly (scandalously few layers, with his thin arms almost entirely bare) and with unthinkably short hair maintained in a strange style, thick-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose and hooked behind his ears. His face had less of the untouchable immortal beauty that Luo Binghe saw daily, and more of an angular asymmetry that made the eye want to stay and figure out how all the lines came together, compelling and strangely arresting.

He was around Luo Binghe's age, maybe twenty, and there was a red string tied to the littlest finger on his right hand.

Luo Binghe opened his mouth, hesitated, and then called, "User zero-two?"

The young man's head shot up, then his eyes (grey-green, piercing yet languid) narrowed. "Y-... -es?"

Softer, Luo Binghe said, "...Shizun?"

The young man blinked, and then all at once he softened, all his angular lines melding into an achingly familiar countenance. He smiled with all that fond indulgence that had filled Luo Binghe's very bones ever since they'd met, and said, "Binghe."

The empty void around them warmed with Luo Binghe's flush but thankfully didn't throb in time with his heart, which was now going crazy in his chest. Shizun was so much closer like this, fascinating in a sensual, tactile way, and Luo Binghe was suddenly unsure of what to do.

Fumbling for words, he blurted, "Is Shizun's name really User Zero-Two?"

This new face of Shizun was... much more expressive than the body Luo Binghe had been wearing for the past year and a half. After so long watching his master's smallest twitches, the easy, playful derision and half-laugh the man let out kicked him in the chest and left him winded. "Hell no." The man then smiled at him, crooked and a little shy. "It's, uh, Shen Yuan." He offered a hand to shake. "Nice to, um. Meet you officially? I guess."

Luo Binghe closed the distance between them to grasp the thin, spidery hand and half-consciously lifted his free hand to his chest, trying to get his heart to calm down. It didn't listen to him. "Shen Yuan," he echoed dutifully, and found that he quite liked the way the syllables felt in his mouth.

Of course he would. That was Shizun's name. It was silly to expect otherwise, and yet—he wanted to keep repeating it over and over forever, tasting two words in each and every way until he was drunk off of them...

"Is this Shizun's true form, then?" he asked so he didn't do just that. As far as he could tell, his own form was just the same as it was when Shizun had shoved it in the abyss, though his contest uniform had been replaced by his Qing Jing disciple uniform.

"Ehh, 'true' is a bit of a stretch..." Shizun said, fiddling with the spectacles and looking embarrassed; Luo Binghe drank in the sight like water in a desert. He then put on his 'teacher voice' and turned Luo Binghe's knees to so much water. "The way we look here is tied to our self-perception. This is the body I (died in) used to have. Yours is the one you last saw yourself in."

The words 'died in' and 'used to have' layered over each other oddly, with Shizun's mouth forming the latter and the former appearing as an undercurrent.

"...'Died in'?" said Luo Binghe weakly, his heart rabbiting for other reasons entirely now.

Shizun huffed in annoyance where he might have once let out a slightly heavier breath than normal. "From my first life. Before I was Shen Qingqiu. Filtering here is harder, too." He glanced sideways at Luo Binghe with another one of those bashful, crooked smiles. "Sorry. I wasn't going to say it, because I knew you'd worry. It's fine. I'm fine. It was before you ever knew me."

Reluctantly, Luo Binghe let it go. Not permanently, but there were other things to wonder about. Such as, the faint red thread he could now see tied around the littlest finger of his right hand, one that trailed down, and then over, to Shizun's, where it was tied in the same way.

Connected by a red thread.

He felt himself blush scarlet, heart tripping, stumbling, skipping over a very suggestive bit of symbolism in his and Shizun's shared mindspace.

"Ah, you can see it now, huh?" Shizun said, with a wry, warm look on his angular face. He held his hand up obligingly, so that Luo Binghe could study the thread that connected them. "You have a soulmate, Binghe. And... it's me." He paused, then added, "Sorry."

"(You knew?) Sorry for what?" said Luo Binghe, and was surprised to hear that strange multilayered unfilteredness in his own voice.

"I knew," Shizun said with a sigh. "And, uh. Sorry for (me) (being me) (an old man) (a man) not being some great beauty." Then he grimaced, thin face coloring a fetching pink. "Sorry."

Luo Binghe caught the thread-bound hand in both of his own, smiling helplessly at the layers of insecurity rolling off of his immortal, untouchable master. Maybe all that time spent filling the role of a shizun was wearing off on him, because all he wanted to do was coo and soothe it. "An old man? Begging Shizun's forgiveness, but he looks my age at the moment."

"Twenty seven," the man muttered with a grimace. "Definitely too old for you. And your teacher. And... (...not good enough, certainly not for you). Tsch."

Luo Binghe slowly turned the man's hand over with a gentle stroke, tracing palm lines and trying to infuse the touch with a little bit of calming qi. "Begging Shizun's forgiveness again," he said softly, giving Shen Yuan a reassuring look, "but, on the contrary, this disciple finds that seeing Shizun in this state only gives him courage."

With that, he lifted the hand to his face and placed a soft kiss in the heart of the palm.

His chest seized in fear for a moment, then released abruptly on a relieved laugh as Shizun, Shen Yuan, his soulmate turned bright red and spluttered. The empty void bloomed warmer than even Luo Binghe's fluster had made it. "Shameless! Who are you using those harem lines on, huh?! This guy?!! Stop!! Enough!!"

"You haven't taken your hand back," Luo Binghe said, grinning. "(It's adorable) I never knew Shizun had such a side to him."

Shizun covered his thin, bright red face with a free hand and released an agonized noise. "Stop. Enough. (I'll melt for real.) And don't call me 'Shizun' when saying all that! I'll be no better than an old pervert taking advantage of a student."

Luo Binghe, who'd bitten the inside of his lip so hard he tasted copper at I'll melt for real, forcibly unlocked his jaw to say, "A-Yuan. Yuan-ge." He leaned in, chasing that seductive heat. "Yuan-gege."

"Stop!!" Shizun snapped, deliciously flustered, and waiting all those seasons for his return may well have been worth it, just for this. Luo Binghe felt like he was walking on air. "That's (too much) (way too much) (tone it down, protagonist!!) unnecessary."

"But, gege," Luo Binghe said, purring the endearment with a coquettish head tilt and trailing his fingertips over the back of his master's hand, "we're just at those ages, aren't we? I could hardly just call you brother. Wouldn't that be too presumptuous? It has to be gege! (Because 'brother' wouldn't make you blush nearly so sweet.)"

"You horrible, horrible (flirt) unfilial disciple!" Shizun ripped his hand from Luo Binghe's grip at last and shot him a glower that was just as enchanting as the rest of his expressions. "Enough! I've had enough! Can you not use your stupid OP protagonist halo to flirt with me of all people for long enough for (me to recover) us to sort out the matters at hand?"

"Yes, Shizun, (but I don't want to)," Luo Binghe said as obediently as his racing, thrilling heart and the hazy heat that surrounded them would let him. "You've referred to this disciple as 'protagonist' twice now... does that mean you've read the novel Proud Immortal Demon Way?"

Shizun had. Shizun had a great many things to say about the novel Proud Immortal Demon Way, most of them negative, but there was a gleam of something addicting and magnetic in his eye as he talked about how stupid springtime flowers were and the disproportionate number of supposedly 'peerless beauties' that existed here and ranted about how so many plot threads were dropped, so on and so forth.

And then, of course, he mentioned 'the protagonist', and said with a breezy tone and utterly straight face, "You were always my favorite, you know. I read a lot of those novels, but you were always the coolest. The most badass. I hated that I was put in the body of the scum villain, but getting to watch you grow up, eat your food, and spend time with you like that was a dream come true. And then it came time when I was supposed to shove you in the Endless Abyss, and I just couldn't do it. Not after all that. In the end, I cared too much. Really, I cared too much right from the start. So here we are... Binghe?"

Luo Binghe, who had buried his face in his hands somewhere in the beginning of that declaration, let out a faint noise.

A cool hand brushed his shoulder, concerned. "Binghe? What did I say?"

Luo Binghe stared into the middle distance through his fingers, wondering what he could possibly say to that, then decided on, "For me, too." He took his face out of his hands. "Spending that time with Shizun was a dream come true for this lowly disciple as well. I've treasured every moment." He finished with a wobbly smile for his master, and found him staring.

"Oh, come on now," he burst out, exasperated, and addressed what would have been the sky if they'd been in reality. "When you say it, it just sounds like something out of a romance novel."

"Only when I say it?"

Shizun flapped a hand, pink around the edges. "Obviously not when I say it. I'm just stating facts. You're the one playing it up and getting all romantic about it."

Luo Binghe stared at him in silence for a moment, then heaved a sigh. "This disciple can see that his work is cut out for him. (Shizun was plenty romantic.) (Really, really romantic.)"

"Shut," Shizun ordered casually, and Luo Binghe obediently shut his mouth, a hot thrill shooting down his spine. "My flirting skills are zero, zip, zilch. Don't lie to me. And I'm not flirting with you (on purpose). I'm talking about this shitty fucking novel and it's absolute ass writing."

(Luo Binghe was also feeling perfectly normal about finding out that his regal, unfailingly polite and decorous master swore quite casually and, indeed, quite often, why do you ask?)

"Yes, Shizun. (Agree to disagree.)"

Shizun flushed but ignored that, and talked further about the novel, and Luo Binghe along with it, and then apologized for dodging Luo Binghe's 'ultimate power-up' by violating his own spirit sword—Luo Binghe was violently reminded of those first minutes after the body swap, when his shishu hadn't batted an eye at the idea of Shizun giving Luo Binghe Xiu Ya, and needed a moment—to escape the Endless Abyss.

"I promised Xiu Ya I would teach you how to wield it, since it would be wasted in any hands but yours now," Shizun said like it was nothing, and Luo Binghe could only bury his face in his hands.

The conversation continued from there, Luo Binghe bringing Shizun up to speed on the new disciples and the state of the peak, and Shizun talking about how fun it was to be in Luo Binghe's body with its heavenly demon properties.

"Shizun is, of course, welcome to take over my body at any time, in any way he pleases," Luo Binghe said cheerfully, then bit his lip against a laugh when Shizun summoned a fan purely to thwap him over the head with it. "Sorry, sorry, Yuan-gege is welcome to take over my body at any time, in any way he pleases."

"Oh, fuck you," Shizun snapped, face red—and then went redder at Luo Binghe's fervent (yes, please). "Enough!! Enough. We're returning to our own bodies. May we remember to be ourselves quickly, and give up this nonsense."

"Yes, Shizun. (No way. I want to see Shizun's face like this every day for the rest of my life.)"

The red thread materialized, and Shizun grabbed it and yanked before either of them could say anything more.

Leaving that thoroughly unsettling conversation behind, Shen Qingqiu breathed a sigh of relief. That boy's body was simply too reactive! And powerful, to have carried its properties into their mindspace. Now that he was back in his own comfortably unresponsive flesh, things would surely improve.

【 Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Important things must be said three times. User 02 has returned! Would Host like to see notifications incurred in his absence? 】

Can you summarize them?

【 Of course! 】

【 'Shen Qingqiu' account level: Ultimate VIP (+universal admin privileges)

Account narrative role: Protagonist's Soulmate (-Scum Villain)

Protagonist satisfaction points: 15,550 (+13,250)

B-points: 8,050 (+7,900)

Plot completion: 98% (+67%) 】

Shen Qingqiu's eyes narrowed. Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?

The next window was oddly watery. 【 ...Previous account holder insisted. ┬┴┤_•;;) 】

Shen Qingqiu processed that for a moment, then shook it off and closed the windows. It seemed like not even the System could stand up to Luo fucking Binghe. He spared a moment to revel in glowing pride in his disciple (and soulmate), then looked up at the boy in question.

His heart promptly stumbled.

Luo Binghe, no longer looking like the cocky teenager he'd been in their mindspace, but grown a bit more, handsomely cut features that had lost a bit more of their baby fat, broader in the shoulder, probably a little taller, with that same starlit-pond-at-midnight depth to his black eyes, and, unfortunately, the exact same smile on those plush pink lips.

Soft, playful, adoring, and heated.

To Shen Qingqiu's horror, the flesh of this body was no longer quite as calm as when he'd entered it. His spine was turning into putty.

"Shizuuuun," the young man across from him crooned, the spark in his eyes a little more worldly and a lot more... intent. "This disciple is honored to be blessed with the sight of your visage once again. He missed you terribly."

Shen Qingqiu snapped up his much-missed fan, feeling his traitorous face burn.

【 Protagonist satisfaction points +100! 】

"Yes, yes, this master missed you too," Shen Qingqiu snapped, dismissing the notification with a sharp thought. "Now behave yourself."

With a thumb pressing against their red thread and a look that very clearly spelled out how little he intended to do that, Shen Qingqiu's adorable, unblackened lamb sweetly bleated, "Yes, Yuan-gege."

...If Shen Qingqiu lived long enough to meet god, he was going to wring his stupid shitty neck.

Two weeks later, he found god in the form of the author and fellow transmigrator, Shang Qinghua. Shen Qingqiu wasted no time in wringing his stupid shitty neck.