Chapter Text
And so they killed the horrible demonic creature that had been terrorising the poor helpless villagers, hallelujah and praise the mighty cultivators etc, and the patriarch of the village then immediately offered up his eldest daughter as a reward because there were some things which this stupid plot would never let go, and of course Luo Binghe declined because apparently he was utterly bent now, and all was well.
Shen Qingqiu might have snorted at the put-upon expression that the rejected young woman was making, if he allowed himself those sorts of indignities.
As it was, he fluttered his fan in amusement as Luo Binghe paid absolutely no attention to her. It was like the poor girl was made of wood.
"Then... daozhang, is there anything else we can offer you? Something you particularly want?" the patriarch offered. He was truly falling over himself to flatter them both, especially Luo Binghe, because who wouldn't trip over themselves to offer him the world if he wanted it?
The would-be inheritor of the world shook his head. "Was there something you wanted, shizun?"
He was expecting Shen Qingqiu to subtly imply that he wanted chicken or pork for dinner, or some other food-based request like fresh radishes or sweet fruit, which Luo Binghe would then cook for dinner later. Shen Qingqiu was also expecting to do this. It was fairly standard now that they had the whole "saving poor villages" thing down to a fine art.
"What I would truly like," he found himself saying, "is a nice fat greasy cheeseburger, American style, but I fear that ship sailed long before any of the sailors even managed to board it."
He only really realised what he said because everyone turned and gave him a weird look.
"... Cheeseburger?" the patriarch repeated slowly.
"American style?" Luo Binghe said, equally as puzzled.
Ah. Did he say that out loud? Shen Qingqiu fluttered his fan faster. "Ignore this old master. I was merely talking to myself. No, there is nothing we particularly need from you – come, Binghe."
The sword ride home was spent in contemplative silence. Shen Qingqiu was steadfastly acting like nothing was wrong, but he could feel the waves of confusion rolling off his sticky husband as they flew along.
"Husband," said Luo Binghe after a long time. "What is American? And why is it greasy?"
Shen Qingqiu shook his head. "A word I heard a long time ago which means nothing anymore. Forget it, I was just rambling about useless nonsense."
"As husband says."
He must really be hungry if he was rambling about cheeseburgers. Shen Qingqiu shook his head at himself.
Back at home, after disrobing and eating and relaxing for the evening in companionable silence, Shen Qingqiu sat back on his cushion and watched Luo Binghe with one eye cracked open.
Luo Binghe looked remarkably innocent as he pulled Shen Qingqiu's foot into his lap.
"Begging permission to massage shizun's feet after a long day," he said, ever so politely.
"I bet you would beg," Shen Qingqiu said with a snort, letting his eye slide shut.
The following silence was somehow remarkably loud. He cracked his eye open again. Luo Binghe was staring at him, face flushed red, hands frozen on Shen Qingqiu's ankle.
"... shizun?"
Ah, wait, he said that out loud too?? Embarrassing! It made him sound like some old pervert!
"What is it," he said flatly, going with the tried and tested method of pretending it didn't happen.
"Does shizun... want this disciple to beg?"
Disciple this, shizun that, could you please not say these things which such an obviously lustful look in your eye? "Yes," said Shen Qingqiu, and then immediately froze.
Luo Binghe's jaw dropped open.
Why did he say that? He meant to say no. He meant no, not yes.
"Yes," he said again, with a frown.
Perhaps Luo Binghe mistook that frown for a sudden transformation into some kind of stern, cruel master (of course he did!) because he immediately bowed so quickly that his head thunked off the floor.
"Th-this disciple begs to be allowed to massage shizun's feet. Please-" he broke off to swallow, "please allow me to."
Shen Qingqiu was horrified. "Luo Binghe, get up now. That wasn't what I intended to say."
The protagonist sat up, face entirely red, eyes sparkling like he'd been given every birthday present at once. Just from the suggestion of being made to beg?? This trembling M!!!!
"You don't want me to? Shizun?"
Shen Qingqiu needed to clear this whole misunderstanding up. "Of course I want you to," he said instead, which was not what he planned on saying. "The fact you would cry and beg to touch such an unattractive part of me makes me unbelievably turned on. I should bring you to heel more often."
What. Wait.
Luo Binghe was actively trembling now. His eyes were suspiciously shiny.
No. He hadn't meant to say that either.
"Does shizun... does shizun really mean it?"
No! As if he would ever say something so embarrassing out loud! "Yes." No! "Yes!"
Luo Binghe immediately bent down and kissed Shen Qingqiu's ankle, still blushing to the roots of his hair, face the epitome of bliss. "That husband would be so forward with me... that he would tell me that he desires something like this, that only this useless disciple can provide..."
"I'm not trying to be forward!" Shen Qingqiu said in a panic. “It feels like my mouth is running away with me! There’s something wrong with my tongue. I would never choose to say such... such shameless things like this, unprompted...”
Ah, wait. Wait a moment.
He wouldn’t ever say such things. But there was an inkling of a memory - wife number 47, possibly - of a similar situation...
“Binghe,” he said quietly. “Do you remember earlier during our fight with that monster when it spat in my face?”
Luo Binghe’s face darkened considerably. He looked like he wanted to kill it all over again. “I do.”
Stupid fucking novel, stupid fucking papapa plot devices. Spit that made you blurt out horny things against your will - what a cheap tactic! No wonder Shen Qingqiu couldn’t remember it!
“I have a feeling there was more in that substance than either of us realised,” he said, just as darkly.
“Shizun?”
“It’s a wonder I’m not lying prone on the mat wailing to get papapa’d into oblivion like wife number three hundred and seventeen, or maybe it was wife number three oh every single one of them -”
Shen Qingqiu slapped a hand over his own mouth. This was untenable.
“Papapa’d?” Luo Binghe repeated, expression growing more and more concerned. “Wife number what? Shizun, what do you mean?”
Whatever Shen Qingqiu replied was muffled as he jabbed both of his thumbs into his own mouth. After gnawing on them for a little while, he managed to groan out: “get Mu Qingfang and Shang-shidi in here now!”
Mu Qingfang solemnly laid two fingers onto Shen Qingqiu’s wrist, his brow wrinkled.
“And what do you believe the side effects are?” he asked. Shen Qingqiu sighed in annoyance.
“Ah, clearly it’s some kind of papapa plot device, a tacky sex pollen excuse to get wife-of-the-week to start mouthing off about that glorious meaty monster sized-”
Shang Qinghua made a noise like a small balloon getting squeezed flat, and ran forward to shake Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders.
“It’s making him speak in tongues!” he babbled. “I can’t understand a word he’s saying! It doesn’t make any sense and I don’t think any of us should examine what he’s talking about too deeply!”
This fell on deaf ears, because Luo Binghe was the king of thinking too deeply about things. He plucked Shang Qinghua off like he was a small, annoying dog, and tossed him aside.
“Wife again,” he said, eyes examining Shen Qingqiu’s face. “Shizun, whose wife are you referring to?”
“Yours,” spat Shen Qingqiu. There was panic written all over his face.
Luo Binghe looked for a moment like he was about to tremble, but cautiously, he continued: “My wife?”
“Your entire village of wives,” he continued, “just a ludicrous amount of wives, practically bursting at the seams with wives, except,” and his voice took on a distinctly feverish tone, his face blotching red and white as he just kept talking, “except I went and broke everything and now there’s only one wife and it’s me and do you understand how ridiculously scared and horny that makes me? Scared-horny?”
Luo Binghe was speechless, but not quite dumbfounded. He looked like he was trying to solve equations in his head. Shang Qinghua dragged a hand over his own face and looked like he was bracing for an earthquake.
Mu Qingfang, who was stuck in the middle, gave a polite little cough.
“I am aware of many plants that produce what might, in layman’s terms, be referred to as sex pollen,” he said. “This is not that. This appears to have some kind of compulsive effect, and certainly as a kind of de-inhibitor, but the, ah. Aphrodisiac effect is missing.”
Luo Binghe sat by Shen Qingqiu’s side and took his hand. His voice was so gentle, so delicate, that it felt more like a whisper than a question. “My husband is scared?”
Shen Qingqiu’s nostrils flared several times. “Not anymore. I just want everyone to go away,” he said, entirely truthfully.
With just a burst of tactful demonic energy (Luo Binghe was still working on tact, this was a great improvement for him), Mu Qingfang and Shang Qinghua scattered, both of them sending concerned looks over their shoulders.
Shen Qingqiu was secretly glad, but he didn’t want to encourage this kind of behaviour. It was just too childish. “You should do that more often,” he said, and then immediately wanted to slap himself with his fan.
“Shizun...” Luo Binghe leaned in, voice full of concern. “This useless disciple apologises for allowing you to get poisoned yet again. I failed to notice what kind of effect it would have...”
“Due to your demonic blood, yes, I’m well aware,” Shen Qingqiu finished for him. “But really now. No aphrodisiac effect? I don’t believe that.”
Luo Binghe’s thumb trailed over the back of Shen Qingqiu’s hand. “Is shizun feeling... something unusual?”
“Of course I am with you feeling me up like that,” Shen Qingqiu snapped, before groaning. Luo Binghe merely looked bemused.
“Holding hands is... feeling you up?”
“Ah, listen, don’t mind what I say, alright, I’m just a dumb virgin getting flustered at hand holding.”
“Virgin?” Now Luo Binghe was doing an admirable job of attempting not to laugh. “My dear husband... we’ve had sex.”
Shen Qingqiu wanted someone to gag him. “See! It’s making me say all kinds of things!”
“I see, I see. I think I like it.”
“You would! Stallion protagonist...”
Now THAT would be too difficult to explain. Shen Qingqiu stood up in a hurry and brushed down his clothes.
“See, utter nonsense. Ah, look at the time, I’m feeling quite peckish before bed, ah.”
It was entirely shameless, but Luo Binghe took it gracefully. He couldn’t quite hide his amused smile as he also stood up and headed towards the kitchen. “Then I’ll prepare a late night snack.”
Shen Qingqiu had a brief period of time while Luo Binghe prepared a little evening snack tray (what a joy it was to have a snack tray with one’s husband! Sheer decadence!) to quickly plan how he was going to handle this.
Maybe he should gag himself.
No way. No way! There was a risk that that would excite the protagonist far too much, and Shen Qingqiu had plans for tomorrow!
He could just not talk. How hard could that be? He didn't talk all the time! If this curse was truly a... truth curse, and not a compulsive one... then he was in the clear! All he had to do was nod and smile and let his dashing husband take the lead in the conversation!
Content with his own ingenuity, Shen Qingqiu sat primly at the table with his fan lazily wafting air over his face, his mouth puckered into a fond little smile. It didn't take long for Luo Binghe to return, tray in his hands, an assortment of light snacks and sweetments and treats arrayed for his shizun's pleasure. He truly made a wonderful sight, lit low by the evening lamps, hair soft and tumbling, eyes warm with an affection that Shen Qingqiu was really only just coming to grips with.
"Sometimes I wonder if I died a fourth time and somehow transmigrated into a really specific dream," he sighed.
Luo Binghe nearly dropped the tray. Shen Qingqiu ran what he just said back in his mind, and resisted the urge to hit himself with his fan.
"... A fourth time?"
Fuck. Fuck!
"Who's counting?" he replied, with forced cheerfulness. "Let's eat, ah, before I say anything else. Stuff my mouth with food so it can't get me in any more hot water. You often seem quite preoccupied with filling it yourself, insatiable bastard – mghph!"
Shen Qingqiu grabbed several delicate nibbles from the tray and forced them all in his mouth at once, making an impromptu gag with the resourcefulness he had always relied on.
Luo Binghe's mouth was slightly open. He had not yet recovered. He slid into place beside Shen Qingqiu, shutting his mouth slowly.
A little while passed, enough to drink a cup of tea, before either of them spoke again. Honestly, Shen Qingqiu thought that they would spend the rest of the evening in companionable silence – it would make life a lot easier for him – but, alas, his hopes were shattered.
"Three deaths," Luo Binghe said eventually, his tone strange.
Shen Qingqiu made a noise of protest around his mouthful of food.
"But it's true, isn't it, shizun. Three deaths. I was only aware of two."
"Don't think so hard about it," Shen Qingqiu begged. "Don't think at all. You're too clever, you'll work it out too soon."
“Work what out too soon?” Luo Binghe said, eyes fixing on him with a heavy pressure.
“Work out that I’m-”
[Warning! Warning!]
Shen Qingqiu bit his hand hard enough that he drew blood. Holy shit, that stupid System was still here? And it was still monitoring his conversations?? And what was with this selective censorship, huh? He was sure he had already broken a bunch of rules already, so why did it only just wake up??
He waved it away with his uninjured hand, only to find that Luo Binghe had shuffled even closer. He reached out and took Shen Qingqiu’s bleeding hand with an expression that would break even a heart made of pure diamond. He looked stricken.
“I’m sorry,” he was saying urgently, eyes starting to well up, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked... I know there are secrets husband wants to keep to himself. I shouldn’t have tried to get you to tell me. I should have faith in you. I always should have had faith in you no matter what you don’t tell me.”
He kissed the bite mark with a reverence that Shen Qingqiu didn’t deserve, before looking up at him. There were tears alright - of course there were - but they flowed silently, as if Luo Binghe wasn’t even noticing them anymore.
“Don’t hurt yourself again, shizun. I won’t ask anymore.”
Shen Qingqiu took a deep breath. His blood was rushing in an anxious thrum through his body, but when he slowly eked out his breath, his mind cleared. Using his other hand, he gently tangled his fingers in Luo Binghe’s hair.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, accepting that - ah, he had really broken this proud protagonist - Luo Binghe had been scared by a little bite. “It will be okay. It will heal.”
Luo Binghe still seemed unsettled. “I shouldn’t be like this,” he said, voice wet. “I shouldn’t still be afraid of the parts of you I don’t know. I should be content with what I have, shizun, I know. Please punish this disciple for...”
“Enough,” Shen Qingqiu said quickly. “Haven’t you worked out yet that I’m never going to punish you? I have never wanted to inflict pain upon you, not as a punishment, not as a sick kind of learning tool. I'd rather chop my hand off than hurt you. Would rather–"
"Stop," Luo Binghe begged through tears. "I know this. But don't hurt yourself. Why do either of us have to hurt?"
"Oh Binghe," Shen Qingqiu sighed. Neither of them were in any pain now, were they? The mood had changed so quickly. One minute they were enjoying a nice snack, and the next, everyone was crying. "Whenever you cry it makes me want to spoil you and then throw myself off a bridge."
Luo Binghe whimpered, but he immediately stopped crying so forcibly that it looked like it hurt .
Shen Qingqiu closed his eyes.
"Ignore that, Binghe. I was exaggerating. I only mildly want to put my thumbs in a blender."
"Wh-what's a blender?"
"I don't want to get into all that," Shen Qingqiu said, for once happy to tell the truth, before opening his eyes again. He let an exasperated breath out of his mouth.
Luo Binghe's eyes were practically popping from the effort of not crying. He was starting to look a little bloodshot. Shen Qingqiu bit back a smile and reached up, caressing Luo Binghe's cheek.
"Silly boy. Of course you can cry if you want to. When has anything stopped you from doing so before?"
"But it hurts you, shizun," Luo Binghe said stubbornly.
Shen Qingqiu rubbed that peachy cheek a little harder. "And? If we stopped doing something just because it hurt me, we'd never have sex."
There was a very, very heavy silence.
Oh good , Shen Qingqiu thought. Now I've fucking done it .
Luo Binghe's face screwed up from the effort, but his true nature was absolutely irrepressible. He burst into wails so heart-rending that it scared birds out of the nearby trees.