Chapter Text
In the midst of the night, Luo Binghe awoke with a start. He heard ragged, scattered breaths echo through the room, and was unsure of who they were coming from until he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. From the glowing demon mark to the tear streaked cheeks that stared back at him, it was evident he was the one causing such a scene. He checked his surroundings quickly. He’s in the bamboo house. He’s in bed. His shizun is safe in his arms. His shizun is in his arms: his shizun is safe.
At this, he finally allowed himself to calm down, swallowing down another sob. Shen Qingqiu had always advised him to talk through these situations to ground himself. And that began with assessing the situation.
The situation was that yesterday, Luo Binghe found out there was an alternate universe version of himself that was the dictator of the entire universe. A universe where he slaughtered everyone who he ever cared for and had a harem of who knows how many women running around his home. Cool.
The second step was to find solutions to his issue. He loved his dear shizun to death, but how the hell was he supposed to deal with that knowledge?! They had chased the fake Luo Binghe out of their universe, yes, but his existence alone brought up way too many possibilities Luo Binghe was not sure he could even comprehend. His shizun did order him to throw out the Xin Mo fragments, which he promised to do the next morning. And that would be that.
But he couldn’t get the memories out of his head. What those alternate universe doppelgängers said to him, about him, about what he had done.
***
As Luo Binghe came to, he wrecked his brain to figure out what the hell just happened. He was attacked by…himself? A version of himself that seemed to have no time for formalities, considering he went straight for a killing blow. The two stumbled around and fought for a while before Luo Binghe—the real Luo Binghe— fell back into the portal the other had made. He extended his hands in a last ditch effort to not fall back, but all he could grasp was…
Xin Mo was flung away from him instantly as Binghe shot up, crawling backwards from the damned sword. The alternate version of himself still had the sword intact. Perhaps that’s why he was so violent to begin with?
Finally looking around, Luo Binghe took in his surroundings. This seemed to be the same room his was in previously, albeit a little more clean than usual. With a groan, he propped himself on his elbows to stand, hitting the floor once again. Shit. He really knew how to throw a punch. Luo Binghe was definitely injured, and the infirmary was on the other side of his residence. After a minuscule pep talk, he dragged himself into a standing position using Xin Mo. He would hold onto the sword until he could make sure that other Luo Binghe was not here to utilize it.
Luo Binghe stepped into the hall, making his way towards the closest clinic.
Instantly, the scenery before Binghe was much different than the halls of his palace in the demonic realm. Harsh lantern light lit with angered flames kept the room dim, his eyes needing to adjust to the dark haze that surrounded the shining objects littered upon the walls and floors.
They were clearly treasured items. Gifts or conquests from all across the map, on full display so that the owner of this palace—the fake Luo Binghe— could admire his achievements. Or perhaps just feel a fleeting sense of accomplishment.
The palace wasn't silent, however. He could hear mumblings and voices of what he assumed to be servants further down the hall. Something felt off about the tone of this place. Everything was so...somber. It reminded him of the days he was fully under the control of Xin Mo. When he had locked his shizun up in the demon realm and intended to keep him all to himself.
Luo Binghe shook off those memories, heading towards the voices he heard. He was not concerned with the life of this man, all he needed was information on where his shizun was, and the quickest way to go back home.
He assumed this was the demon realm, although he felt the presence of quite a few humans. He took a right into an opening a few rooms down, expecting this to be a grand ballroom, as was in his home.
It suddenly made sense why he felt the presence of humans as soon as he turned the corner. Because the grand ballroom was...women. So many women, actually. Humans, demons, spirits, beautiful creatures in between. Many were resting, some were playing music, some were mending what seemed to be his clothes, some were arguing (quite brutally??) with each other.
It was entirely overwhelming. Especially since he knew many of the faces in the crowd. Those faces turning to see him enter the room-
Luo Binghe’s heart stopped, his entire body freezing along with it. He was not a very sociable person to begin with, only being able to handle two people at a time, so the sight of what seemed to be at least fifty women in his ballroom right now was overwhelming. Were they throwing a party in his home? Is that what this alternate version Luo Binghe did in his pass time?
A sudden pain erupted in his chest and Luo Binghe doubled over, coughing blood onto his robes. In his shock, he momentarily forgot about his injuries.
His ears flooded with gasps and screams, and he was instantly surrounded with women who were fussing with his clothes, trying to find his injuries and help cure them.
"Is his Highness alright??"
"Who did this to you?!"
"Why isn't he healing??"
The voices that flooded his ears made his head spin. The whole world felt like it was spinning, actually. Why did all of these women care about his well being so much?? He was used to people outright hating him-
“U-unhand me, now.” He managed to muster up, overwhelmed from all that has been happening.
All of the girls 'eeped!' and backed away, some keeling at his feet for forgiveness.
"We're very sorry your Highness!"
"Please don't be mad!"
"Yes, please remain calm!!"
There was no time to unpack all of…that. He needed medical attention.
“Are there any disciples from Qian Cao Peak present.” He needed a medicine that would act quickly.
Mumbling erupted from the crowd, and a few women stepped forward. They certainly weren't wearing Qian Cao Peak colors. In fact, all of them were wearing some form of black or red. Matching him.
"Please come sit down, your Highness. We'll treat your wounds and call Sha Hualing to come listen to what happened to you."
Hearing that name eased his nerves. This was some sort of different reality, but at least Sha Hualing was one he was quite close to in his own life.
He sat on the large cushioned chair that seemed to be reserved just for him, setting Xin Mo at his side
Instead of the standard medicinal pills that his Shizun was often shoving into Binghe's hands whenever he'd come home injured, the girls had retrieved a Golden Root of Everlasting Well-Being (yes that’s what it's called). A highly coveted magical plant that was critically endangered back home.
Before he could protest to its use on him, it was tossed into a pestle and ground up to apply on his many stab wounds. He felt instant relief, but also instant guilt. So...win lose-
Shizun would not approve of the use of such an endangered plant at all. With all the lectures on plants he had given, Luo Binghe had no doubt in his mind that upon seeing this, each and every woman here would have received a swift smack of his fan upon their foreheads.
The thought made him smile bitter sweetly. He could only pray that Shizun was safe and sound back home, tucked away somewhere the other Binghe couldn’t find him. For the first time in his life, he hoped after their last argument Shizun up and went back to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.
A low whistle interrupted his thoughts, coupled with the sound of footsteps approaching him. Sha Hualing had her arms crossed in front of her chest, looking exactly as she always did.
"Someone did a number on you, your highness. I haven't seen you this beaten up in years.." She frowned, unhappy seeing his clothes soaked with blood.
Well, at least her personality hadn’t changed. Luo Binghe was ready to respond, but his mind suddenly blanked. What exactly does he say to her? It seemed like it was not the best idea to announce he was some imposter Luo Binghe (even if he was, in fact, the real Luo Binghe), and he was not sure what his standing was in this world yet. So he settled for rolling his eyes and looking away, which was what he would have done normally.
"Oh we've resorted to sulking? It must've been a bad beating-" She chuckled, walking her way up to the throne he was sitting on and placing herself on his lap, as if she owned it.
"Don't worry your Highness, if they're not dead now, they will be. I will guarantee it." She whispered that last scentence just for him to hear. She was so entirely close to his body. No one had touched him like this aside from his Shizun, and even that was rarely! But here she was, touching his wounds tentatively as if she was a worrying wife.
His gut reaction was to punch Sha Hualing off of his lap and inquire exactly what the hell she thought she was doing right now. He almost did do that, but stopped after a twitch of his fingers. If she was comfortable doing this, then this must be what the fake Luo Binghe was into.
An odd, strangled noise made it’s way out of his throat before he was able to compose himself. He made a mental plea of forgiveness towards his Shizun, promising to cook him an entire feast and never leave his side again.
“Give a report of what’s happened while this one has been out.”
"It's been quite boring without his Highness around." She yawned, leaning her back against the arm of the throne, running her thumb over a smudge on her nails.
"Some of the prisoners died from starvation, or insanity. I've made sure to keep the ones with the most spiritual power for you alive. Hmm..the children have been attending their lessons, and the fires died out once again on Cang Qiong, so they were relit."
…..
This is what she considered boring? What was an eventful day for her?? This was much too heavy to unpack, but that particular comment about the fires concerned him the greatest.
“Cang Qiong? Including the mountain sect?”
"Ppfft-" She laughed. "What's left of it at least! That's what those stupid peak lords get for torturing our Great Emperor of the Three Realms!"
Everyone in the room nodded. Binghe could see all their expressions were varied. Some were enthusiastic, some were nervously pretending to be enthusiastic, and some were just keeping their gazes averted from him. Namely the girls who had once been Qian Cao Peak disciples..
Sha Hualing patted his cheek, finally getting up off of him and allowing him to breathe."You can rest well knowing your wives have taken care of you in your absence."
His head was spinning. Wives. Those are supposed to be his wives. His wives. Luo Binghe’s wives. Where’s Shen Qingqiu?
He didn’t realize that was asked out loud until the group of women got eerily quiet. For once, no one stepped up to speak first.
“Where is he?” He stood, grabbing Sha Hualing by the throat and slamming her head against a table that held medicinal fruits, “Where is Shizun, Sha Hualing?! You burnt down his home, where is he?!”
Many of the women in the room began to cover or kneel, hiding themselves away from Luo Binghe. But the worst part was that none of them seemed confused. It was as if they were used to this kind of behavior.
"C-Calm down your Highness, he is where he has always been, still in the basement-!" His 'wife' choked out, a little shocked that he would attack her first and not one of the lesser girls around her. She thought she was special. He had even entertained her sitting with him on the throne. What had she done wrong??
That response made him release his grasp on her, as he was pulled back into the moment. Guilt crept up his body. That was completely erratic behavior, and Sha Hualing had just been giving him information. Shizun was safe and sound, of course he was.
He let go of her, standing, “escort me to his suite, then.”
She stood, hair now unkempt and face a little strange at his request. Nonetheless, she quietly nodded and started walking forward to lead him.
The set up of the palace was strange. More treasures and women lined the halls. The faces of girls he had met in his youth every now and then appearing, then quickly disappearing. This all felt like an odd dream. And yet it began to feel nightmarish as they turned down a hall that was empty aside from a descending staircase.
"He's...he's down there, your Highness. Are you sure you're in the right frame of mind to see him?" She glanced at him, concerned.
Luo Binghe didn’t spare her a glance, gazing down at the staircase that seemed never ending. He could hear a voice in the back of his head tell him to turn around, go speak to the other girls, to find out answers to other questions.
But he needed to see him. All he wanted right now was to see his face.
“This Binghe thanks you for the help.” Was all he could offer before stepping towards the staircase.
He heard her footsteps, quickly running the other direction before he could descend a single step. Sha Hualing knew when the feared demon lord Luo Binghe saw Shen Qingqiu again, all bets of safety were lost. And she had already been unlucky today.
The first scent that hit Binghe's nose was that of blood. There were no lights on down here aside from some sickly lantern light, but streaked on the walls were seals made with blood long dried. The only sound he was able to hear was tired, exhausted breathing. It didn't even sound very human. Desperate gulps of air, persistence to stay alive, almost animalistic in nature.
The demon lord started descending much quicker than he was before. Vision impaired, he couldn’t make out where exactly the breathing was coming from, but he could sense it was in the back middle of the room. Binghe was practically sprinting through the basement at this rate, his jade necklace jingling from where it was tied around his belt.
There was no stopping until his leg hit something hard, causing Luo Binghe to fall to the ground, Xin Mo scattering across the floor. Blindly, he felt the object, feeling up until he felt soft skin. Soft skin, a slender nose, long, silky hair.
“S-Shizun?!” He exclaimed, cupping the face in his hands as he rose to his knees, “Shizun, what-“
The face within his hands instantly bucked backwards from his touch, causing the sound of clinking chains to echo through the empty room. Worse, the shrill scrape of ceramic caused his spine to itch from the awful sound.
"If you even think to touch me again with your filthy hands, they'll become fingerless." A raspy voice spit those words in his face.
Luo Binghe was shocked. The voice sounded familiar, yet distant in his memory. He let go and patted the floor for any source of light. All he was able to find was a damp candle, that took too much time to light between the moisture and his shaky fingers.
Once lit, he turned back around to face the person who was speaking,
'Person' was not the word he would use to describe what he was seeing. It was the remnants of someone he had long forgotten could look at him with such killing intent.
The scene was malicious. Something he would read or hear about in tales meant to scare. Shen Qingqiu was in a dungeon. The walls were stone, painted with streaks of blood. The only thing in the room was Shen Qingqiu. Painfully breathing while trapped inside what appeared to be a vase, manacled to the three walls around him.
Large gashes could be seen on the neck and shoulders that peaked out from the rough vase. The face of Shen Qingqiu was left perfectly intact, yet it seemed to be the most nauseating thing he could look at. Pale green eyes stared a hole through his head, and Luo Binghe could practically hear the faint wishes that he would die on the spot in front of the chained up vase.
It took everything in Luo Binghe’s being to choke down the scream that threatened to rip from his throat. Never in his deepest nightmares would he have construed this scene to exist. Kneeling in front of the vase, not a muscle in his body could move. He couldn’t talk, scream, turn away. The only movement that came from him was the hot stream of tears down his cheeks.
". . .are you mocking me? What is this?" More hoarse words escaped dry lips. When was the last time his shizun had a sip of water? Had he even been fed down here? Or was he slowly fading away as whoever did this to him laughed and watched?
"Fake tears have never worked, and I will never be so easily fooled. Get. Out."
Shizun…Shizun said…to ground himself, he needed to access the situation. The situation is…
“Water.” He replied dizzily, “you need…” Binghe stumbled to his feet, vision blurred through tears as he looked for a water jug. He eventually did find one in the other corner of the room. Luo Binghe came back to Shen Qingqiu, holding the cool ceramic to his lips.
“Drink this, shizun.”
The chains once again clinked as Shen Qingqiu choked on the cold liquid being leaked into his mouth. He struggled, trying to turn his head away from the cup and the sight of the half-demon.
"Q-Quit prolonging my life, you beast-! Get out!" More water filled within his mouth, his words half-lost and slurred as he tried to spit it out.
Luo Binghe froze, the vase slipping out of his hands and onto the blood stained floor. A beast. He called him a beast, words he hasn’t heard since he was 14 years old, strung up and beaten within an inch of his life. Luo Binghe felt like that child again. Cold and humiliated, cowering on the floor in front of his shizun.
The sobbing got worse as he put his hands to the floor, shaking immensely,
“I-it’s me, Shizun. It’s Luo Binghe, let me help you, please.”
What was this room? What the hell was this set up? This Shen Qingqiu had said to stop helping him, so it could be this was fake Binghe’s weird, messed up interpretation of an infirmary.
Laughter ripped from Shen Qingqiu's throat, his head falling low so long hair covered his face completely. Replaying in his head were the days when he'd be locked in the woodshed, laughter heard from outside the door.
"Wasn't it this master the one who taught you to become such a good actor? Your tricks were once my tricks. I can see right through to the monster you are. And I tire of these endless games...how do you not tire of these endless games-?"
Flashes of green peeked through inky black. The question was so...genuine. Something in that voice breaking arrogance and almost pleading for an answer.
He bit his lip, unable to give this man the answer he so desired. Part of Luo Binghe wished to confess, tell this demented Shen Qingqiu that he was from another world and had no idea what was being said right now.
“Who...who did this? This disciple promises they will never have the hands to hurt you again.” Despite everything in his body saying not to, Luo Binghe reached out and pushed the hair out of Shen Qingqiu’s face, knowing he hated hair restricting his vision.
The face he revealed was Shen Qingqiu's. But the longer he looked, the longer he stared over the sharp, delicate features, he realized it wasn't the face of his shizun.
The face that smiled at him in the mornings, and hid away behind anything whenever Binghe got him to blush, was completely absent. There was something missing. There was someone missing. But before Binghe could truly let that thought seep into his mind, the next words Shen Qingqiu breathed caused all thoughts to come to a halt.
"You did. Everything you see before you was done by my own disciple's hands.
..are you proud of yourself?"
“No it wasn’t.” He said without thinking, “it wasn’t. I would never do this in any universe.”
Luo Binghe did not care that his doppelgänger was clearly violent, or that he bruised and scarred him so badly. There is no conceivable universe where he would so much as hurt a hair on Shen Qingqiu’s head. Even in the heat of Xin Mo’s rage, he had only expressed obsession-like love towards him.
The face in front of him tilted ever so slightly. Eyes squinting at him, examining him.
".. you're committing to this much longer than usual.. and you're presenting yourself wounded.." He mumbled, eyes trained on the scar over his chest.
The half demon sniffed, not expecting his scar to be bought up.
“This is where shizun stabbed me when I was pushed into the abyss. Do I not usually have this?” He couldn’t help but ask, aware he’s not seeming very evil wife-having Binghe.
"...no, you don't." He lifted his head back up a bit, away from the closeness to Luo Binghe that made things all the more uncomfortable, "You love to gloat that you're truly an invincible terror these days, whereas I am no longer.." Shen Qingqiu wasn't exactly sure what game this was, but perhaps if he played along eventually he'd be left alone.
Through all of this insanity, Luo Binghe sensed that this Shen Qingqiu may answer any questions he asked.
“Why..why would I hurt you so?” He tested, trying to put on a tougher face.
"You said it yourself just a moment ago, did you not? An immortal master stabbed his own demonic disciple, sending him into an abyss after constant years of torture. And now he is subjected to his own abyss and torture."
That last line sounded scripted. As if he had been told to say that a thousand times over until his tongue was bleeding.
“Constant years of torture?”
Unless his memory failed to serve him, it had only been about the first year and a half at the peak that Shen Qingqiu had acted out, but it certainly would not warrant him calling it ‘years’
"I hated you. I still hate you. Hate is not a strong enough word for the feeling I get when I hear the name 'Luo Binghe'!" That ceramic again scraped on the stone beneath him, causing pain in his little pointy ears.
He winced and held said ears, doubling over at how overwhelming it all was. The sound of the pot, the chains, of his heart beating in his chest. He was going to be sick.
"Is that what you want me to admit to this time?? That I beat you? That I was disgusted with you? It wasn't a secret! I didn't care who saw it, or how tarnished my reputation would become. Every single day for the 5 years you were in that abyssal hell, I relished in joy because you were gone!"
“…” Luo Binghe looked at Shen Qingqiu, tears still dripping down his face.
“Shizun, I just have one more question for you.”
"What." He looked up at the ceiling, eyes closed as he waited for this sad act to end and for that disgusting smirk to appear on the demon's face in front of him.
“Do you remember qi deviating, when I was 14 or so?”
Silence filled the space between them. Shen Qingqiu's head slowly fell forward to look Luo Binghe in the eyes.
"No."