Chapter Text
【 SHEN QINGQIU 】
Stepping into the street of Jin Lan City, Shen Qingqiu is aware now more than ever of the amount of quiet that settles over the people there like demonic miasma. It is almost smothering, unbroken except by the chatter of a few of the citizens as they gather together to get a daily meal. Shen Qingqiu is aware of their eyes heavy on him, an expression in their eyes that tells him they believe wholeheartedly that he’s a dead man walking. A kind of tired expectation after seeing so many other cultivators become trapped by the plague within their city walls.
For a moment he considers breaking that tentative silence by approaching them to ask questions. Something, however, catches his attention before he can make his way over there—a voice that breaks the thick quiet before he can find the words to do so himself.
“Rare artifacts for sale!” A loud voice barks down the street, and Shen Qingqiu sees several people turn their heads in that direction. He doesn’t need to see their faces—and can’t because of how covered up they are head-to-toe in black—to know that they aren’t happy at the interruption. What would seem normal in most markets seems tasteless here. Shen Qingqiu finds his long strides taking him to the stand.
A short man stands with hands cupped around his mouth, his chest expanding with a deep inhale before he shouts, “Rare artifacts! Magical spiritual talismans! Protections and charms! Protect yourself from the plague with a spiritual device of your own.”
Shen Qingqiu’s eyebrows start twitching as he looks down at the man, and he knows he must be channeling the original goods rather well considering the way the guy jumps. The merchant pales at first, but then slowly his expression morphs back into that of a sleazy secondhand car salesman’s, “Xiansheng hello! Fancy meeting a cultivator in these parts.”
“Hm? I was under the impression that mine was not the only group of cultivators in the city,” Shen Qingqiu says loftily. The merchant, to his credit, has recovered well from his earlier upset at Shen Qingqiu’s presence. His smile is wide and he gestures to his table.
“Ah yes, well—most are busy chasing around the answers to this plague,” the merchant says. Shen Qingqiu half expects him to start rubbing his hands together like a grubby little fly, but he does no such thing. “Xiansheng, are you interested in my wares?”
Shen Qingqiu raises his brows—does this guy think he’s an idiot? Sure, he might not be immediately recognizable as the Xiu Ya Blade by just any person on the street, but the guy can clearly tell he’s a cultivator. What kind of idiot does he take Shen Qingqiu for, to think that anything he is selling is anything more than just a few useless baubles? He can’t even say that the lies the merchant’s trying to sell them with are good ones! Nobody else is standing at your fucking stand brother, give it up!
“I’m more interested in why you’re bothering to set up shop in the street at all,” Shen Qingqiu says, sharp eyes raking over the man’s appearance. Most everyone is covered up in Jin Lan City, with the exception of those that are not infected. He’d think that this man would be hiding away to avoid the plague, but there isn’t an ounce of fear to him—no matter how you look at it, this guy is as suspicious as they come!
“Ah, Xiansheng business for us merchant types doesn’t stop for anything,” the merchant says with a smile that Shen Qingqiu will wholeheartedly label “oily”. The man gestures again at the table, “Perhaps something will catch your eye?”
Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes and looks down—and his jaw almost drops. Not because there’s anything on the table that jumps out to him as something he’d like to purchase, but because the whole damn thing is practically radiating malicious energy! No wonder this guy pinged on Shen Qingqiu’s radar! It’s like someone setting up a shop, saying they have some toys for people to buy, and then you looking down and realizing the fucker’s got a table filled with live grenades! What the fuck!?
To put it more clearly—the table is stacked with what looks to be just about every kind of cursed object that Shen Qingqiu can think of. Sketchy looking skull amulets, mirrors that radiate demonic energy, scrolls whose edges seem to have started to decay by the sheer malevolent energy of the spells written on them… Shen Qingqiu would be hard pressed to find more contraband if he walked into the demon realm this second!
Shen Qingqiu lifts his phoenix eyes to the merchant’s, an expression of dumbfounded wonder on his features. He isn’t sure whether he should applaud the man for being so bold or just start hacking at him with Xiu Ya for his sheer stupidity. Those merchant’s eyes are sly and cunning, but that’s clearly just appearances because Shen Qingqiu has never met a character with a lower IQ!
“You can’t be serious,” Shen Qingqiu says, though he’s not sure how this guy would manage to swing this as a joke. The merchant’s grin only widens as Shen Qingqiu’s hand drops to the hilt of his sword and he continues, “Surely you don’t think me so stupid as to not immediately piece together that you’re a demon? No human could withstand this amount of malevolent energy and keep these wares together.”
“Xiansheng is wise,” the merchant says. “Very wise indeed.”
“Are you…” Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes—why does he feel like this guy is fucking mocking him!? I’m sorry demon dude, who the fuck is the person trying to sell evil shit to a goddamn cultivator in broad daylight!?
“Ah! What a good choice!” The merchant says before Shen Qingqiu can put voice to his outrage, and Shen Qingqiu blinks in bewilderment. Until he feels a chill creep through his hand, and he looks down to see—what the fuck!?
While he was speaking to the merchant, somehow without Shen Qingqiu even thinking about it, he’d dropped his hand off of Xiu Ya and picked up one of the items off the table. Without even looking, he’d slipped the damn thing onto his finger. For a moment, Shen Qingqiu stares at it, utterly speechless. He recognizes that there’s a minor compulsion on the ring, but surely it’s not something that should so easily slip through his defenses—he’s a Peak Lord —what the fuck!?
“Don’t feel bad xiansheng. Fate has a funny way of working in my favor for these things,” the demon merchant says, pulling out a small pearl. Shen Qingqiu draws his sword right as the pearl smashes into the ground. An explosion of noxious fumes forces Shen Qingqiu to hide his face behind his sleeve as a thick cloud explodes around him. The smell makes him want to choke, and the only thing keeping him from blindly sashing with his sword is the fact that he doesn’t want to send a sword glare into some innocent by mistake.
One the smoke clears there is no demon, no table, and Shen Qingqiu is standing in the middle of the fucking street feeling like he’s just discovered someone had taped a “Kick Me” sign to his back for the last three years. The eyes of several normal folk are completely locked on him, and he flicks his fan open to hide his face from their judgmental gazes. How many cultivators fumble an interaction like that!? What kind of Peak Lord is he?
As he does this he checks his hand—the object he’d picked up off the table was a ring that seems unremarkable in appearance at a glance. It is a dull, matte gray-black and doesn’t shine when he moves his hand one way or the other. It is, however, dreadfully cold to the touch. To the point that the finger that he’s placed it on aches a bit at the joint.
Even knowing it will be useless, Shen Qingqiu tries to pull the ring off of his slender finger. It, of course, doesn’t budge. In fact, he hisses in pain as he feels something sharp dig into his finger. Blood wells up under the ring, dripping down the back of his hand. A strange fractal pattern forms on the ring after that, crimson lines crisscrossing the matte black before fading to the dull color it was before.
He hasn’t a single clue what this ring is, unfortunately. He doesn’t recognize it from any part of the original book’s inane wife plots, and he can’t remember Binghe using it for anything either. Which means that it’s likely something that Airplane wrote about and then never actually put in the series.
Airplane is back at the sect right now, and Shen Qingqiu doesn’t think this is the sort of thing he should just chill with on his finger. He frowns as he makes his way back to the weapons shop, feeling more than a little sheepish as he steps back into the building and down the stairs to where Mu Qingfang is getting to work on his antidote. He clearly doesn’t expect one of his martial brothers back so soon, because he lifts his head to fix Shen Qingqiu with a puzzled look.
“Ah,” Shen Qingqiu says, and he clears his throat. “Mu-shidi, when you have a moment could this Shen trouble you?”
“...I likely won’t have a moment for some time Shen-shixiong,” Mu Qingfang says, but he places his items down and walks over to Shen Qingqiu as he speaks. His sharp eyes fall on the ring on Shen Qingqiu’s finger and his eyes narrow, “...Shen-shixiong.”
The way he says that is filled with an exasperation that is not quite softened by any fondness. He’s gone past fondness. Shen Qingqiu has a million excuses that want to fall out of his mouth and he barely catches himself from rambling them out—which is alarming.
Look, Shen Qingqiu has a lot of thoughts that go through his head at any given time. He’s gotten very good at keeping that shit to himself, thank you very much! The fact that he almost started nervously babbling at his shidi is alarming because it’s very much something he shouldn’t ever get close to doing! Shen Qingqiu has always ranted to himself in his head with no concern at all. He’s a master at his own personal filter, to the point of it almost being a problem sometimes.
“This one ran into a strange merchant on the street,” Shen Qingqiu says by way of explanation. “When I was speaking with him I found myself putting this on without thinking about it. Of course he’s gotten away.”
There’s a note of bitterness to his tone that Shen Qingiu is typically better about hiding. Mu Qingfang clearly catches it, he flicks his eyes up to Shen Qingqiu’s face and rests his fingers on the inside of Shen Qingqiu’s wrist. His brow furrows and he murmurs, “It’s because of Without-a-Cure I believe, it must have made you more susceptible to its influence.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” Shen Qingqiu says, feeling less like a failure.
“It’s certainly cursed though,” Mu Qingfang says with a tired sigh, “Shixiong, I don’t know much about cursed artifacts myself but I can tell it is going to have a massive impact on your spiritual energy. That is…”
He trails off. Troubling. That is troubling. Because Shen Qingqiu’s spiritual energy is already out of whack thanks to Without-a-Cure, it certainly doesn’t need an evil ring doing anymore damage to it. Shen Qingqiu heaves a sigh despite himself, and obediently allows Mu Qingfang to guide him to a seat next to Wu Chen.
“This Shen apologizes,” Shen Qingqiu says to the man. Wu Chen, for his part, only looks over at Shen Qingqiu’s hand with a furrowed brow. Mu Qingfang allows the monk to do so, even making some room for him. “It is not this one’s intent to draw attention from the plague.”
“Not at all,” Wu Chen says calmly, he gently takes Shen Qingqiu’s hand and peers a the ring. His brow furrows as he murmurs a sutra under his breath. He looks up, meeting Shen Qingqiu’s gaze, “I know this ring.”
“You do?” Shen Qingqiu can’t help the slight hope in his tone—that’s one step closer to figuring out what is going on and how to get the damn thing off! Wu Chen releases Shen Qingqiu’s hand and sits back with a thoughtful expression.
“It is the Ring of Warmth at the Heart,” Wu Chen says. “A man made it for his beloved when he believed her to be cheating on him—it forced her to stay by his side, or slowly she would begin to grow colder and colder until she froze to death. In addition, she was also forced to speak the truth to him. Not just to never lie, but to speak.”
Shen Qingqiu can feel the color draining from his face, and his mouth snaps closed. Fuck. Was he supposed to track down that demon and stick close to him to keep from getting hypothermic out of nowhere!? What the fuck!? Shen Qingqiu’s face must have been easy to read, because Wu Chen hurriedly cleared this up;
“The pairing isn’t necessarily to the giver of the ring,” Wu Chen says. “It is to whom the Fates decide—it won’t be able to have reached further than the city I imagine. If that helps at all. But you will need to find who it has bonded to you sooner rather than later. The curse worsens over time, and the longer you are away from the other person…”
The more dangerous the ring would become. For both his spiritual energy and his ability to not freeze. Shen Qingqiu grimaces to himself, rubbing his temples with his hands. How the fuck does he end up in these situations!? He can’t even blame the System for it this time! …Which means this is all Airplane’s fault!
“Will this master be able to tell when he finds the person bonded to the ring?” Shen Qingqiu asks, looking up at Wu Chen. The monk nods seriously at him, patting his shoulder gently.
“It will be obvious to you—but recall that the effects of the truth telling aspect will be stronger with whomever you are bonded to,” Wu Chen says, “And thankfully, this curse is possible to lift in two ways—one, if one were to kill the demon who laid the curse with the help o the one bonded to you. The other method is dual cultivation with the one bonded to you.”
Yikes! Killing the demon it is—Shen Qingqiu doesn’t want to get it on with any woman he’s paired to with this ring—if only because he doesn’t want the protagonist to find out and add it to his list of sins! No thank you! He gets up and sighs heavily.
“I’ll set about looking for my temporary partner,” Shen Qingqiu says. Hopefully she would be reasonable, and not too afraid of working with him to track that demon down and kill him. He sighs heavily, thinking of what a pain it will be to keep someone safe from creatures while he drags them along for a hunt. This all smacks of a wife plot!
Definitely Airplane’s fault!
Maybe he’d get lucky and the person he bonded to would at least be a cultivator. He just hopes it’s not one of Binghe’s wives—that would be the worst case scenario in this sort of situation.
────── 〔❅〕──────
As the day starts to slip from the late afternoon and properly into evening, Shen Qingqiu at first doesn’t really register the change in temperature as anything to be concerned about. It isn’t until he realizes that there’s a bite to the cold that is decidedly off-season that it really sticks out to him. Mostly in the hands, and on his nose. Like he’s stepped out into a crisp fall morning instead of on a relatively hot day. He flexes his fingers, furrowing his brows in a slight frown.
If he can’t find who the ring has bonded to him, what the fuck is he going to do?
“Hey!” Shen Qingqiu hears, and he jumps—his focus darting from his hands to spot Liu Qingge marching aggressively in his direction. Granted, he doesn’t think his shidi tends to do anything in a non-aggressive way. It’s sort of his default really!
“Hello Liu-shidi,” Shen Qingqiu says when Liu Qingge unceremoniously snatches his wrist to examine the ring on his finger. Even though Liu Qingge’s hand is around his wrist, Shen Qingqiu realizes with a small amount of fascination that he can’t feel the warmth of it at all. Everything else feels normal, but it’s as if Liu Qingge’s hand simply has no temperature. “I’m guessing you spoke with Mu-shidi?”
“You were cursed,” Liu Qingge says, ever forward and simple.
“Mn,” Shen Qingqiu manages to pry his wrist away and faces Liu Qingge’s intense look head on.
“...the ring, did it…” Liu Qingge pauses, gesturing to himself and then Shen Qingqiu.
“Did it?” Shen Qingqiu asks, because he’s truly not sure what Liu Qingge is suggesting.
“The bond, is it with me?” Liu Qingge grits out.
“Wh—no?” Shen Qingqiu says—he’s not sure why that flusters him! He didn’t consider it okay? He knows this is probably meant for a wife plot, so naturally he as imagining it was going to bond him to a woman. He didn’t even think men like Liu Qingge were on the table! He’s glad that isn’t the case, he can’t imagine how annoyed Liu Qingge would be to be stuck to Shen Qingqiu like glue and keeping him from freezing to death.
The muscle in Liu Qingge’s jaw twitches, and Shen Qingqiu is ready to assure him that he was told he would be very sure if it was him. The man stares at Shen Qingqiu so intensely that the words die on his tongue though—what’s with that look shidi!? He’s not doing this all on purpose or anything!
“The plague is caused by sowers,” Liu Qingge bluntly says after a long moment of this. Shen Qingqiu feels his shoulders relax despite himself, “Don’t get infected.”
“Ah, makes sense,” Shen Qingqiu says to him. “You’ll be going out to catch them then?”
Liu Qingge glances at him, but doesn’t grace the words with an answer. With the soft hiss and ring of metal, Liu Qingge draws Cheng Luan and jumps onto the blade. With that, he flies off through the streets, keeping low enough that he doesn’t set off the wards and makes Shen Qingqiu hope that he won’t knock into any walls or anything.
Sowers then hm? That sure clicks things together! They haven’t been around for some time, almost driven instinct due to their particularly gruesome method of obtaining food. If Shen Qingqiu wasn’t out looking for his second half of the curse he might have been of some help to finding them out. He knows about sowers!
Keeping an eye out for them will be another issue entirely though, Shen Qingqiu considers. After all, most of the people in Jin Lan City right now are understandably bundled from head to toe in black cloth. It’s all too easy for a sower to hide their tell-tale bright red skin under such pretenses.
He is just considering this when a person clad in all black comes hurtling down the street right for him. Shen Qingqiu steps back quickly, though he doesn’t draw his blade he doesn’t let the person close to him and sends a blast of spiritual energy at them. The person lets out a garbled noise, hurtling backwards and landing in the street on their back. Vibrant read limbs are visible as the cloak falls away.
“Senior Shen!” Shen Qingqiu hears from down the street, and he looks up to spot a familiar young man in white and gold robes. Gongyi Xiao walks toward him quickly, “It didn’t touch you did it?”
“No, this master knew to keep his distance,” Shen Qingqiu says, calmly. “Is there a retinue from Huan Hua Palace being led by Gongyi Xiao here too?”
Gongyi Xiao gives him a strained smile at that, “That… not led by me, but yes.”
Not led by Gongyi Xiao? Shen Qingqiu regards the young man with quiet confusion. Before Luo Binghe starts to take over Huan Hua Palace, Gongyi Xiao should be unchallenged in his position. Indeed, he’s an outstanding young man in every contest that doesn’t involve the protagonist! Just who could be leading a mission that Gongyi Xiao is instead doing gruntwork on?
“Shizun?”
That voice—achingly familiar, even though it is lower and smoother than it was when Shen Qingqiu last heard it—is impossible to forget. Shen Qingqiu lifts his head and finds himself staring in the direction of several Huan Hua cultivators—and in the middle of them stands Luo Binghe.
He’s early, Shen Qingqiu thinks with surprise. Because he is —Shen Qingqiu is meant to have two more years. The mushroom body isn’t anywhere near ready yet! He isn’t ready yet! In fact, it takes everything in Shen Qingqiu to not turn around and run in the opposite direction like a bat out of hell!
【 System connection successful! Updates successful! Welcome back User! 】
Not you too! Shen Qingqiu thinks with despair.
“It is Shizun,” Luo Binghe says, stepping closer. How can an open street feel so claustrophobic. Shen Qingqiu wants to reflexively step backward, but Gongyi Xiao has somehow ended up behind him. Wait—had Shen Qingqiu taken a step toward Luo Binghe earlier? Does he want to die!?
“Luo Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu says, and it’s only by the grace of his consistent poser act that his voice is as calm and cool as it sounds. Luo Binghe stops walking forward, as if he’s been unconscious of the movement. He’s far closer than Shen Qingqiu would like him to be though—especially considering the warm look in his eyes!
Doesn’t that just mean he’s more likely to die!?
Shen Qingqiu lifts his hand to hide his face behind his fan, and it’s then that the ring on his finger suddenly flares with unmistakable warmth. Uncomfortably so—Shen Qingqiu can’t quite keep himself from flinching and Luo Binghe’s sharp eyes catch it immediately. He steps forward, and Shen Qingqiu realizes that—to his mortification—his fucking knees have buckled on him!
Luo Binghe catches him, and his hands are warm on Shen Qingqiu’s arm. Even through his robes he can feel it—and fuck, wait. He’s the one the ring bonded him to?! Luo Binghe!? He’s fucked!
“Shizun is unwell?” Luo Binghe asks, his brows are furrowing over a concerned expression. Shen Qingqiu wonders if he’s excited that his old master is suffering—he’s a fantastic actor so it’s not like Shen Qingqiu can really read what he’s thinking.
“It’s nothing, just an artifact that this master stumbled on,” Shen Qingqiu manages to get his feet under him, but Luo Binghe’s hand is clamped tightly around his upper arm. He doesn’t seem to be willing to let him go. Fuck! Shen Qingqiu tries to subtly pull out of Luo Binghe’s grip but doesn’t quite succeed.
“Is that all you have to say to him!? How dare you!” One of the Huan Hua disciples shouts. Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes as she continues, “You treated Luo-shixiong so terribly, and when you meet him you just act like everything is okay!?”
Shen Qingqiu can’t help but feel a little incensed—barring the Abyss, Shen Qingqiu treated Luo Binghe very well. Okay, well this Shen Qingqiu treated him well at least! He narrows his eyes and finds himself glancing up at Luo Binghe’s face to try and get a read on him. What he finds is that Luo Binghe is watching his face closely. The two of them catch eyes for a moment, and Shen Qingqiu feels a sudden burst of embarrassment that he can’t place. He quickly looks away, and gently tries to pull his arm away again.
“Ah, Bing—Luo Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu says, ignoring the disciples that are muttering aggressively about how terrible he is. “Could we perhaps have the body of this sower? Mu Qingfang-shidi is working on a cure to the plague.”
“Of course,” Luo Binghe says immediately.
Shen Qingqiu glances at him. How the fuck is he going to do this? The last time he saw Luo Binghe he shoved him into literal hell. Now he has to work up the face to not only hope he doesn’t just let him die but also to ask for his help?
“This master… would also like to speak with you alone,” Shen Qingqiu says slowly. Luo Binghe’s eyes brighten—is he excited at the prospect of getting his claws into Shen Qingqiu so easily? Shen Qingqiu tries to push his anxiety down, but it is awfully stubborn. “When you have a moment to—”
“Gongyi-shixiong, please take care of the rest of these matters,” Luo Binghe says. Gongyi Xiao only nods his head, looking a cross between relieved and curious. Luo Binghe lets go of Shen Qingqiu’s arm, but he begins to walk down the street immediately after. Shen Qingqiu is made to follow after him, lifting his fan up to try and save some of his face.
“...Binghe…” Shen Qingqiu says, he’s not sure how to phrase what he needs to phrase. Should he try to apologize first? Will that even matter? He is terrible at these sorts of things. Shen Qingqiu would rather avoid most sticky heart-to-heart conversations at the best of times, he wants to do that even more when said heart-to-heart is with the disciple that is going to tear his limbs to pieces. “...seems to be settling well with Huan Hua Palace. Does his new master treat him well?”
He surprises himself with the bitter note in his voice. What the fuck is his problem?! This is just part of the plot!
“This disciple only has one shizun,” Luo Binghe says, his smile is a little bitter though. His eyes a little colder. Dammit, Shen Qingqiu should have kept his mouth shut. He is grateful for the fan, “Shizun wanted to speak with this disciple about Huan Hua Palace?”
The question is barbed. Shen Qingqiu knows what he should be talking about. He can’t meet Luo Binghe’s eyes as he looks over his shoulder instead with a barely withheld sigh, “This master has a request of Luo Binghe, if he is willing to listen to it.”
Luo Binghe laughs then—it is softer than Shen Qingqiu expects it to be, despite the bitterness laced in it. The young man’s smile is a little wry as he meets Shen Qingqiu’s eyes, “This disciple is willing.”
“This master… has come upon a minor cursed artifact,” Shen Qingqiu says slowly. No need to let Luo Binghe know that the curse is actually going to kill him! Especially no need to let him know that Luo Binghe will be directly able to impact whether said curse kills him! Even saying that though, the little half-truth that it is, makes the ring on his finger tighten painfully. He ignores it, that part isn’t so bad yet. “It requires this one to track down the caster of the curse and dispatch of him.”
“Oh?” Luo Binghe says, tilting his head to one side. “And Shizun wants this disciple to help him do this?”
No he does not! Luo Binghe this is beneath you and this master knows it, but he is backed into a corner and has no fucking choice! “If it is of too much trouble to Luo Binghe this master can do it on his own.”
“The curse involves me, doesn’t it?” Luo Binghe asks—how the fuck!? The Protagonist IQ levels are too powerful! How the hell did he pick that up just by—okay fair. Maybe it would be unusual for the mentor who threw you away to suddenly ask to go on a mission with you. Without apologizing for throwing you away. He swallows around that but Luo Binghe’s eyes are intense as he looks down at Shen Qingqiu.
Wait—down!? DOWN?? Since when was he taller than him? Shen Qingqiu isn’t even a short man, but he does have to tilt his head to look up at Luo Binghe now!? This is no fair! He’s already at a disadvantage to the man!
“This disciple will help Shizun,” Luo Binghe says finally, with a smile that makes the hair along the back of Shen Qingqiu’s neck lift. “But this disciple would like something in return—would Shizun be willing to grant that?”
“What would Binghe like?” Shen Qingqiu says, and Luo Binghe’s smile gets a little sharper.
“Shizun can find out after we’ve dealt with the artifact,” Luo Binghe says. The hell!? Like that kind of deal is one anyone should take! Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes, but Luo Binghe’s expression is still smug. Certain. “Otherwise, this disciple will be unable to lend his aid.”
“...fine,” Shen Qingqiu says, and Luo Binghe’s eyes light up. “This master will give Luo Binghe whatever it is he desires after he assists with the artifact.”
It’s not like he has much choice—and maybe he can get back into Luo Binghe’s good graces? At least enough not to be turned into a human stick? Aw who is he kidding, he’s so screwed.