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The good news is, the mushroom body was a success, and Shen Yuan is no longer dead (again). The better news is, while his soul managed to jump bodies (again), the System apparently did not, meaning he’s finally free of that evil-ass extradimensional hell entity and its various tomfuckeries of his life.
The bad news is, Shen Yuan has now passed out, likely due to a combination of stress, loss of energy, and also the fact that he basically did the equivalent of digging himself out of his own grave just a shichen or so ago.
The worse news is, he’s having a dream now, and he’s not the only one in it.
Shen Yuan is standing in the bamboo forest around his house, dressed in the familiar green robes of the Qing Jing Peak Lord and holding a white fan loosely in his left hand. The world seems a bit hazy around him, like it could melt away into clouds with naught but a sneeze, and yet the single area in front of him seems to be growing sharper and clearer by the moment.
“Luo Binghe,” he murmurs, partially to himself and partially in greeting. That must be why the dream is so clear in that one area, isn’t it? Luo Binghe is there, shaping the landscape of the dream to be exactly as it is in his memories.
Shen Yuan wants to see him. Shen Yuan also wants to run away and keep on running until he wakes up.
The problem is, it’s Binghe. The stallion protagonist, the white lotus turned blackened, the sweet, sticky little lamb that Shen Yuan himself had torn to corrupted shreds. Shen Yuan’s favourite disciple and most feared nightmare, all rolled into one. He can’t help but be drawn to the other by what must be the awesome power of the Protagonist Halo at work, but at the same time, Shen Yuan is rather fond of his limbs. He would like them to stay where they are, attached to his body and perfectly intact.
In the end he does neither of the things he’s thinking of, either running toward or running away, in fact, despite the turmoil in his head screaming at him to pick one. No, instead Shen Yuan stands frozen in front of the bamboo cottage as his grip on the fan grows tighter and tighter.
And then, the bamboo in front of him shifts and parts, and–
It’s him.
Luo Binghe is standing right in front of him, looking just as Shen Yuan remembers – ethereally beautiful, sharp-jawed and elegant, dressed all in fine robes of red and black with his mass of silky curls pulled up into a golden guan. He looks even more distinguished than the last time they’d met, and Shen Yuan wonders how many wives he’s amassed already, looking like someone straight out of a xianxia romance. It must be well into the dozens by now.
Are you here to kill me again, Shen Yuan wants to ask, wasn’t once enough for you, but of course it wasn’t after everything I’ve done, but he never gets the chance. The second he opens his mouth to get a word out, Luo Binghe simply bursts into tears.
Of all the things Shen Yuan had expected, that… was not one of them.
“Sh-Shizun?” Binghe stutters out, big fat tears dripping down his face as he hesitantly reaches one quivering hand for Shen Yuan’s own. He looks like he can’t believe his own eyes, hopeful and heartbroken all rolled into one miserable ball of fluff and tears. “Are you… is Shizun really real?”
And Shen Yuan should pull away now for his own safety. He should jump back, run away, anything to get him away from the threat to life and limb that now stands before him, but…
Luo Binghe is crying. Shen Yuan can’t stand when Binghe cries.
So, he makes what is quite possibly the most foolish decision of his life (right next to ‘literally killing himself’), and he reaches out to take Luo Binghe’s hands into his own, running one of his thumbs across the back in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. “Yes, Binghe. I’m real. I’m here.”
Binghe lets out a wet, shuddering gasp, and in one quick motion, throws himself into Shen Yuan’s torso and wraps his arms around him, beginning to sob in earnest. Shen Yuan, who is not entirely sure what to do about this but who would desperately like his poor student to stop crying, tentatively brings his arms up to wrap around his half-crouched disciple in turn, and after a moment he begins hesitantly stroking a line down the curve of Binghe’s back. That can calm people down, right?
They stand like that for longer than Shen Yuan feels should be necessary, Binghe practically kneeling as he sobs into his robes, squeezing him tighter and tighter whenever he makes the slightest movements, fingers digging into his back in a way that really should be painful. If not for the fact that this is a dream, Shen Yuan is sure he would be hearing his very bones creaking in protest at the harsh treatment. Though… he is in a mushroom body now, so maybe not. Do mushroom bodies have bones?
Does he not have bones anymore?
God, he should’ve asked Shang Qinghua about that when he still had the chance. Now, he doubts he’s ever going to see the other man again (unless Shang Qinghua also dies and ends up in a mushroom body, but with the way Mobei-Jun is about him, Shen Yuan kind of doubts that’s going to happen).
After a while, though, Shen Yuan is just… kind of confused. Binghe is still crying into his robes, he still has all his limbs, and they’re just… standing here in the middle of the bamboo dreamscape. Is something supposed to be happening? Is this some kind of wifeplot that Shen Yuan has ended up in by mistake? It wouldn’t be the first time. A dreamscape one is kind of overdone, though, since that’s how Luo Binghe got Meng Mo, but then again, this is Airplane he’s talking about. ‘Overdone’ was practically his motto.
“Binghe,” he says suddenly, quietly, carefully, before he can do something reasonable like talk himself out of it, “are we… just going to stand here for the rest of the dream?”
In his arms, Binghe jolts, and after a big sniffle, looks up at Shen Yuan with tear-filled eyes. Notably, he does not relinquish his hold on Shen Yuan’s torso, and in fact might have actually squeezed even tighter again. “This disciple is sorry, Shizun! I will take us somewhere more comfortable.”
There’s a shifting swirl as the landscape around them changes, and in an instant, they’re in a shockingly comfortable sitting room, decorated in red, black, and gold. The sofa is right behind Shen Yuan’s knees, so close that all Luo Binghe has to do to get him to tip backwards and sit down on it is nudge his sternum. A moment later, Binghe climbs up onto the couch beside him and proceeds to curl around his body like a needy cat, burying his face in Shen Yuan’s shoulder without ever losing touch with him for so much as a second.
Shen Yuan, for his part, is… a little bit frozen, actually. Not literally, although in a dreamscape he wouldn’t consider it out of the question, but he’s finding himself unable to move even an inch. There’s nothing holding him in place, no bonds either visible or invisible, but he just… can’t move. It’s like his body has locked into place, trying to process all of the information and refusing to let him resume living until it’s done.
“...Shizun?” Binghe mumbles, half-muffled by his shoulder and distorted by the tears still flowing down his sweet face. “Is Shizun okay now? Is– is Shizun… alive?”
That question seems to break the spell over him, and Shen Yuan hesitates as he draws in a shaky breath. Whatever he says here will make or break his survival. He needs to choose his words carefully if he wants to survive this.
“Yes,” he says simply. His voice is quiet, but he knows Binghe will hear him anyway. “I’m alive again.”
Binghe lets out a sort of chirp, or maybe a squeak, as he dives forward again from where he’d lifted his head to ask the question. Somehow, that confirmation of Shen Yuan’s continued existence has only made him more inclined to embrace his murderous shizun, and Shen Yuan finds himself growing more and more confused by the moment.
Just what the fuck is going on here? What the hell did Shen Yuan miss?
Luo Binghe should want him dead for all the torments visited on him in his youth. Sure, Shen Yuan had managed to avoid a good chunk of that by being wildly OOC (and paying the price for it at the System’s behest), but he’d still cast his poor white lotus into the Abyss. He’d still committed the ultimate betrayal.
And now, instead of enacting his well-deserved revenge on his traitorous shizun who had tried to escape his fate by faking his own death (well, technically by actually killing himself and then committing some retroactive necromancy, but eh, semantics), Binghe was… hugging him. No, cuddling him. Binghe is wrapped around Shen Yuan like a clingy pet whose person had just come back from a long vacation, and he’s cuddling Shen Yuan. His mortal enemy.
Something here, Shen Yuan thinks, is not quite right.
Rather, it’s less that something is wrong and more that something is different. Still, though, with how forceful the System had been about following the plot, would it really have allowed a divergence strong enough to erase the scum villain’s gorey fate and replace it with… whatever’s happening here?
Fuck, he really needs to talk to Shang Qinghua. The man can be obnoxious at times, but he’s still the one Shen Yuan would consider his closest friend, and more than that, he’s the only other person who possesses the necessary context to help Shen Yuan figure out just what the fuck he’s experiencing right now. There’s not another soul in this world who could understand it, not that they could ever explain it anyways–
…Wait a minute.
Wait a fucking minute.
Shen Yuan is aware that he’s frozen up again, has gone stiff in a way that makes Binghe let out a sharp, worried gasp from behind him, but he can’t really bring himself to care about that right now. He has had an epiphany.
“Binghe,” Shen Yuan begins, and he knows his tone must be odd, but for his part, his little blackened lotus doesn’t say a word about it. “You must… have questions. About how I’m alive again. Am I right?”
Slowly, Binghe nods. He’s not at an angle where Shen Yuan can see it, but he does still have his face hooked over Shen Yuan’s shoulder, so he can at least feel the gesture as it makes Binghe’s chin dig into his joint. “Yes, Shizun. This… this disciple really wants to know what has brought his shizun back to him.”
“It’s a very long story.” Shen Yuan begins to turn around, and he’s careful not to disconnect himself from Binghe after he feels the other’s grip on him tighten. “Can Binghe be patient for this one and listen to the whole thing before he makes any judgements?”
Binghe nods again, this time much more enthusiastically.
Shen Yuan has managed to manoeuvre them both so that they’re facing each other on the red silk sofa, and Binghe draws himself even closer so he’s practically kneeling in Shen Yuan’s lap. It’s a somewhat compromising position, to be honest, but Shen Yuan has sort of figured out by this point that if he tries to pull away, Binghe will start sobbing again, and he can’t deal with that twice in one night.
He draws in a long, steadying breath and slowly lets it out again, steeling his nerve before he looks up to face Binghe fully. “Do you remember… when you were fourteen, and your shizun had a qi deviation?”
“This disciple remembers,” Binghe says slowly. “Shizun was close to… to dying, but he recovered, and after that…”
“After that,” Shen Yuan continues, “your shizun was nicer to you, and you didn’t know why. Right?”
“Mhm.”
Shen Yuan hesitates, feeling a quiver run through his body at the thought of what he’s about to say, but he can’t back out now. He needs to say this. He needs to tell the truth now that he finally has the opportunity. “Binghe, this master… this one is– this one is not the shizun you had before.”
Binghe’s brow furrows. “Shizun– isn’t shizun?”
Mutely, Shen Yuan shakes his head.
“But… you are shizun?” Binghe asks.
“Yes and no,” murmurs Shen Yuan. “Your– your real shizun, the original one, was Shen Jiu. He was the one that grew up with Yue Qingyuan and earned the position of Cang Qiong Peak Lord. He was the one who brought you into the sect, and he was… supposed to be your shizun all along.”
Binghe is silent. He must be staring at Shen Yuan, but Shen Yuan can’t bring himself to meet his eyes.
“I,” he says quietly, “am not Shen Jiu.”
Out of his line of sight, Shen Yuan hears Binghe let out a small sound – of distress, confusion, surprise, he doesn’t know. He can’t look up. All he can see is his own shaking, boney fingers, tangled in the silky fabric of his robes.
He can’t just leave it at that, though. There is more he needs to say. “When your shizun– when Shen Jiu – had a qi deviation, he… didn’t actually survive it. It killed him. And at the same time, somewhere else, another person died as well.”
“Shizun–” Binghe interrupts, but Shen Yuan shakes his head, effectively cutting him off.
“Shen Jiu wasn’t supposed to die right then. There was a fate written out for him, and it didn’t involve him dying so early on. And so… in his absence, something decided to intervene, and make sure there would be a soul in his body to fill the role he was meant to play. Shen Jiu died that day, and another soul was shoved into his body to live out his fate.”
If Binghe responds, Shen Yuan doesn’t hear it. There’s a sort of buzzing in his head, muffling everything outside of the single pinprick of focus compelling him to tell the truth.
“The force, the… entity that intervened, it did not stay quiet and uninvolved. It… compelled, this master, to make certain choices and take certain actions, with dire consequences if he refused.”
Binghe deserves to know that much, at least.
“It’s no excuse for what I’ve done to you,” Shen Yuan murmurs. At some point, his eyes had slid shut – he doesn’t know when. “But Binghe at least deserves that explanation before he casts his judgement.”
Silence fills the dream, and Shen Yuan cannot move. He cannot see, cannot think, cannot breathe. All he can do is wait, wait for Luo Binghe to form his opinion and at last pass judgement on Shen Yuan’s fate. In this moment and every other, his life is in Binghe’s hands.
“Shizun,” Binghe whispers at last, and Shen Yuan can barely suppress the instinctual flinch at the address, “what was your name?”
At that, Shen Yuan at last looks up, eyes wide and confused. “What?”
“Shizun’s name. What was it? Before he– before, this disciple means.”
His name. Binghe wants to know what his name was back when he was himself and nobody else. “It… was Shen Yuan.”
“Shen Yuan,” Binghe repeats, rolling the words around in his mouth and tasting the sound of them. “Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan… A-Yuan.”
…A-Yuan?
Binghe inches closer as he continues. “Did A-Yuan– has A-Yuan ever… ever hated this disciple?”
Shen Yuan’s head snaps up from where it had begun to dip again, and he finds himself nose to nose with Binghe even as he stares at him with horror. “Of course not! How could I?”
“Then… then Shizun, A-Yuan, did not want to– to cast this disciple away? To cast this disciple into the Endless Abyss?”
“Never.” The response is instant. “I never wanted to do anything to harm you, ever. If… I did not have another choice. If I did not push you, I would die right there and then, and who’s to say that would actually help anything beyond making sure that I, personally, wouldn’t be the one to knock you off the edge?”
(Shen Yuan wonders, sometimes, if he truly made the right choice that day. If it would have been better for him to choose Luo Binghe, to give up his life to divert the path of fate and spare his poor white lotus all that pain and sorrow.
He died again for Binghe anyways, in the end. What was an extra couple of years spent in grief and suspense, compared to his sticky disciple’s happiness and safety?)
“...I regret making the choice that I did, back then,” he whispers eventually. “I believe, in retrospect, that I picked the wrong option. My life wasn’t worth the price you paid.”
Binghe jerks, surging forward to wrap his arms around Shen Yuan, all thoughts of propriety entirely abandoned in the face of his ever-present stickiness. “Shizun should not say such things! This disciple– this Binghe would never, ever want Shizun– want A-Yuan to suffer on his account!”
For a moment, Shen Yuan freezes, but… it’s becoming clear to him now that Binghe has no interest in revenge or retribution, at least not towards him. His former disciple, his sticky white lotus, seems far more interested in making up for all the physical affection he’d missed out on in his life. Specifically, he seems interested in wrapping himself around Shen Yuan like an octopus and never letting go.
And really, who is Shen Yuan to deny him?
It’s the easiest thing he’s ever done, reciprocating the crushing hug that Binghe has wrapped him in. Binghe’s hold, despite its strength, feels warm and safe. Shen Yuan has to wriggle a bit to achieve his own goal (and this earns him quite the squeeze before Binghe realises what he’s doing), which is to nestle Binghe’s head in the crook of his neck and shoulder so that Shen Yuan can stroke his hair. Binghe shivers at the first touch, but he quickly melts into it, practically purring as he squeezes Shen Yuan like a small child would squeeze a beloved stuffed animal.
‘Stress ball’ is a better fate than ‘human stick’, isn’t it? At least this way, Shen Yuan is whole and intact, and honestly, if it weren’t for the aggressiveness of the squeezes, Binghe’s hugs would be pretty great.
Ah, well, no matter. He’ll learn.
oOoOo
Shizun is alive.
Binghe’s shizun, his kind, gentle, beloved Shizun, is alive.
And… he never hated Binghe. Not even a little bit, not even when he shoved him over the cliff into the Endless Abyss. He hadn’t even wanted to do that. Something stronger had forced his hand.
(Binghe will be looking into that later. Anything strong enough to puppeteer his Shizun is already a threat. Something that’s not only capable, but willing? No, Binghe cannot allow that entity to continue existing in the same world as his beloved.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget the way the fear in A-Yuan’s voice sounded as he spoke of the System’s machinations.)
For the moment, Binghe is largely content to simply hold his shizun. He’ll keep Shizun safe in his arms, safe from anything and anyone that could ever even dream of hurting him, and then Shizun will never have to feel that sort of fear ever again. Binghe will hold him and protect him and love him and keep him safe and happy for the rest of eternity, if he’s allowed.
God, he hopes he’ll be allowed. Now that he’s had a taste of this, of being able to cradle A-Yuan in his arms, safe and protected, Binghe doesn’t know what he’ll do if it’s ripped away from him again.
He wants to ask Shen Yuan to stay. To come back home with him and be protected and loved, as he deserves, but he desperately doesn’t want to scare him off, and, well… Shizun has always had a rather thin face. Proposing on the spot is exactly the sort of thing that would make him run and hide.
Binghe will have to be subtle about this.
After another few moments of simply relishing in the feeling of holding A-Yuan in his arms, Binghe shifts, moving just enough to be able to look his beloved in the eyes. A risky move, with Shizun’s thin face, but a necessary one nonetheless. Shen Yuan needs to know that Binghe is serious.
“A-Yuan,” he says, and Shizun’s gaze, which had previously been darting around in that nervous fashion of his, falls squarely in line with Binghe’s own. “This Binghe wants to know. Where is A-Yuan right now?”
Shen Yuan hesitates for a moment before he responds. “I… don’t entirely know. Somewhere deep in the woods, I think – I survived by… by having a backup body for my soul to move to after the previous one, ah… after I could no longer stay in the body of Shen Jiu. The backup was grown from a Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom, so it was sort of sequestered out in the wilderness, and that’s where I am now.”
“Shizun is– a mushroom now?” Binghe asks. His brow furrows. “How–?”
“It’s, ah, rather complicated, I’m afraid. I… had some suspicions, you see, that my safety might be threatened – although I wasn’t expecting it to go quite like that – so I took some countermeasures. I can… explain how the Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom works to Binghe later, if… if he would like?”
Binghe nearly smacks Shen Yuan in the nose with his head from how hard he nods, and the second he realises that fact, he brings it down to a much more sedate gesture, leaning forward to nuzzle into A-Yuan’s collarbone in silent apology for almost injuring him. It’s a good thing he didn’t actually – that would be utterly unacceptable. “This Binghe would very much like that, A-Yuan. Very much.”
Shen Yuan lets out a soft, contented sigh, and the hand in Binghe’s hair begins to move again, elegant fingers running carefully through his curls in one of the most comforting gestures he’s ever experienced in his life. “I’m glad to hear that.”
After a pause, Binghe decides it’s been long enough for him to speak on a slightly different subject. “If this disciple– this Binghe were to procure a map, could A-Yuan point out the location to him?”
“Perhaps, but may I ask why Binghe is so eager to know?”
“This one wishes to come and retrieve A-Yuan, of course!” Binghe chirps. “This one couldn’t just let A-Yuan sleep outside all alone, not when Binghe has a whole palace for him! That is… unless A-Yuan would prefer to– to not–”
Thankfully, Shen Yuan shakes his head, giving Binghe a slight squeeze. “No, no, that’s– if Binghe is offering, then this one would be honoured to accept. Although, would it not be easier for me to come to you?”
Shizun… Shizun would come to him? Binghe’s heart might just burst out of his chest at the thought!
“Yes!” Binghe yelps, then cringes a bit as he realises how loud he’s being (and right next to his poor shizun’s head!). “I mean. This disciple thinks that is an excellent idea – or should we perhaps meet in the middle?”
From Shen Yuan’s spotty memory of his own location, as well as Binghe’s knowledge of the Demon Realm, they’re able to find a town that’s relatively close to Shen Yuan’s current location. Once they both wake up, Binghe will head to that town to wait for him to arrive, and then they can both return to Binghe’s palace together.
Binghe… could force Shen Yuan to wake up. His dream powers will certainly extend that far, especially while he’s in the relevant dream. If he does that, it will bring A-Yuan to him sooner, but it also means that Binghe will have to let go of him.
And he really doesn’t want to do that.
He knows he’ll have to let go eventually, if only so they can reunite in the real world. So Binghe can repeat this situation, can bring A-Yuan into his arms again and hold him close and safe and warm, so unlike the lifeless body he’d left behind. It will only be temporary this time, being bereft of Shizun once more, but he’s still not ready to go through that again. Not again.
It’s too soon. He just… he just needs a little bit longer here, in A-Yuan’s warm, comforting arms, with those elegant fingers stroking his back and combing so carefully through his curls with an endless affection that only one soul has ever shown him, and then he can return to the waking world again.
(Binghe knows he will be waking up beside a corpse. The body in his arms will be cold instead of warm, like it should be. He has woken up like that every single morning for five years now, seeing Shizun’s face as beautiful and lifeless and cold as a porcelain doll, and he hates that he is used to it now.
Even so, the agony it sends through his chest to feel that cold flesh under his fingers is one that his accelerated healing has never been able to touch.)