Chapter Text
Shen Yuan woke up confused. While sleeping and lounging the day away weren’t unknown to him, he wasn’t a deep sleeper. Too many sleepless nights in the hospital had left a mark.
So there was no way someone could have come in and rearranged his room for him while he slept. Even the ceiling was wrong. The room was huge and looked like something from a period drama. It even smelled different; the bland fragrance-less disinfectants his cleaning company preferred replaced by the rich aroma of incense. And frankly, except for his mei mei, no one would. The level of detail, of course his er-ge could pull that off. But his family was simply too busy for childish pranks, especially one as ornate as this.
A dream then, he thought, and turned over to drift back to sleep, or out of sleep as it were. But a pull on his neck had him gagging, and his hands, cloaked in billowy white sleeves, pried themselves free to undo the noose around his neck.
Shen Yuan froze, feeling the silken strands of long hair wrapped about his neck, and coincidentally connected to his scalp.
What the actual fuck?
“Shizun,” a pathetic voice sounded near the foot of his bed. Well, it wasn’t his bed but the massive wooden and curtained beast he currently found himself freaking the fuck out in.
“Out, beast!” The scorn dripping from his voice shocked even himself. His trembling hand moved to his chest, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart. What the hell was this? Where was he?
His bleary eyes scanned the room again. It couldn’t be transmigration, could it? But how? He hadn’t died. Sure, his health wasn’t the best. But he wasn’t even currently hospitalized. He would remember if he had died, right? That’s kind of a major fucking life event!
“Shizun, we have to get ready for the wedding,” that small voice again, and Shen Yuan wasn’t ready for the surge of hate that left him gasping, his hands ineffectually writhing near his neck again.
“Shizun!” His young servant couldn’t see him clearly though all the gauzy layers of the canopy, but he could see enough to know his master was in distress. And he reached for him.
Too bold. The thought seemingly came from nowhere, and Shen Yuan couldn’t stop the sneer that twisted his face. Luo Binghe’s reaching arm fell back to his side, and he slid to his knees on the floor, no longer daring to reach out or to look up at the enraged visage of his shizun.
A wave of déjà vu nearly sent Shen Yuan falling out of bed. Closing his eyes and trying to calm his breathing, Shen Yuan couldn’t help lean back in the silken blankets and fluffy pillows. Well, that’s historically inaccurate. But an inaccuracy he was grateful for. Otherwise he would certainly brain himself smashing his head against a porcelain pillow.
“Binghe,” he finally ground out, wondering if the taste of blood in his mouth was from teeth grinding. His jaw was clenched like a vise and not helping the headache pounding behind his eyes.
“This master is not well.” That sounded good, accurate, right? Shen Yuan had devoured web novels and anime like a true, blue otaku. He could pull this act off, and even if he wasn’t going to win an Oscar, the goal was to just avoid tipping off the locals. “No exorcisms” might be a low bar. But perfectly doable.
“But Shizun, the wedding. First Husband Liu has already arrived.” Binghe’s voice petered out, uncertain.
Fuck the wedding and that cheating, good-for-nothing liar! Shen Yuan was shocked, again, by his own thoughts. His hands finally fell from his neck and folded like wet napkins on his lap. Again, he focused on his breathing. Freaking out would fix nothing. He needed a clear head to get through this.
His eyes caught on the still kneeling form of his little disciple. Shabbily dressed, dirty, and terrified. And those curls.
Shen Yuan remembered this story. He knew he did. It was all too familiar. But he wasn’t sure when he had read it…? There were several installments, that he was certain of. The author had a handle that would make only a teenager laugh. Not that Shen Yuan was blameless there, but well, his account had been made when he was still an actual teenager.
Yes, that was it. Proud Immortal…something. The title escaped him. But it was an interesting setting for a cultivation novel. There were no cultivation sects, instead, a general peace was maintained with the demon realm, and Lords, generals, and other members of the Emperor’s court were the focus. Cultivators were trained by individual masters, and tournaments were held to keep skills sharp and to showboat. Of course, there still inter-species tensions. And intra was well. As Shen Yuan remembered, the court drama took up the majority of the novel. Which was silly, because the world building had had potential. There was always some lame aphrodisiac flower cropping up, but the beasts had been the best feature. Usually, they were just described as part of a night hunt or tournament, plot devices to move along damsel-in-distress scenes and the resulting…
Ah shit, it was a harem novel.
“This master can hardly attend ill,” Shen Yuan said, and he didn’t need to fake the tremor in his voice. If Binghe would dare to lift his eyes up from the floor, he would see a deathly pale face above rumpled white bed clothes.
“So Binghe is dismissed. This master needs his rest,” Shen Yuan said after his little disciple failed to respond. Binghe did raise his eyes then in surprise, and witnessed his strict, overbearing, and sometimes vicious shizun falling back on his pillows with a sigh.
Please just leave! Shen Yuan wanted to scream. His mind was too busy melting the fuck down to deal with faking it for the mistreated boy. Not only was he trapped in a harem novel, he was fricking married. To a man, a Lord. And oh no, that’s wasn’t enough. He had to be fate’s favorite chew toy. Because he recognized this scenario and recognized the poor little lamb. It wasn’t enough to be reborn midlife into some harem novel with all his memories of his past life. Oh no, he was reborn as the scum villain of the book, a beautiful yet vicious man who would stop at nothing to ruin the protagonist’s happiness.
The protagonist who was getting married to his husband right now. Liu Qingge. There was some temptation to attend the wedding, just so Shen Yuan could sneak a peek at the protagonist in his wedding clothes. But no, it was too risky. He knew absolutely nothing, and couldn’t trust someone as young as Binghe to be his wing man.
Binghe finally did shuffle away. For the life of him, Shen Yuan had no idea where he had gone. He would need to do some serious reconnaissance later. He had no idea where he even was; he could only guess these were his quarters. How many rooms, where the servants slept, any amenities, he was clueless about it all.
Assuming I stay here. The grim implications of the thought sunk in and had Shen Yuan sighing and burying his face in his pillow mountain.
If I die here, will I go back home?
But that seemed like too much to hope for. What were the odds death here would send him back to his family? What if he was transmigrated somewhere else even worse the next time? No, he would just have to tough it out. And really, it wouldn’t be that bad. He was rich, or at least his Lord husband was. And he has absolutely no intention of bringing himself to ruin the way the original Shen Qingqiu had. Let the lovebirds canoodle. It didn’t involve him.
He sat up suddenly. A hand traced down his face and ineffectively wiped the tears away. Huh. He had nothing to cry for. It didn’t involve him at all, not really. Shen Yuan had never been in love, and certainly never with the original good’s husband. So there was no betrayal, no broken heart.
And, if he played his cards right, maybe he could see more of the world here. Trips, or even better, traveling independently. He didn’t think it was in vogue for Lords to let their spouses go traipsing around the three realms. But Shen Qingqiu was on the outs with his husband, thrown aside for some young rich boy, so how much convincing would it really take? Shen Yuan snuggled down into his silken sheets and fell asleep dreaming of the twin-beaked burning snow lion, a rare griffon-like beast that lived on the borders of the demon realm. It had a regular lion’s head also, but hidden under the mane, which was its only weak point, but the bird beaks had separate attacks. One spewed ice, and the other fire. Shen Yuan promised himself he would totally see one, from a safe distance of course.
* * *
Shen Yuan wanted a fucking divorce. Not now, but yesterday. This was absolute bullshit and he’d done absolutely nothing to deserve it.
Binghe couldn’t bring breakfast, or lunch as it was. Shen Yuan had managed to sleep the day and then some away. But how was that surprising? Transmigration took it out of a person. He was just recuperating.
“The kitchens said… they said, there are many fine things being made for the wedding. But none of them could be brought to this room [1]." Binghe refused to look up at him, a trend Shen Yuan had definitely noticed. Did he really think he’d beat him for the nastiness of those kitchen harpies?
And it wasn’t even his room! Granted, Shen Yuan was a little relieved to find this out when he’d finally inspected his surroundings in better light and without a bed curtain and tears obscuring his sight. The room was somewhat shabby, and smaller than he’d been led to believe by period dramas. Many of his belongings were just haphazardly lying about instead of properly displayed or stored. But Binghe, bless his soul, had solved the mystery when he regretfully informed his Shizun that he wasn’t able to bring more braziers to the seclusion courtyard.
Seclusion courtyard. Where Lords sent their naughty spouses to wither away and repent for their past behaviors.
So no food, cold despite the cultivation, in isolation, and totally disrespected by all.
Though the cultivation was pretty awesome. Shen Yuan had to restrain himself from swinging his sword, Xiu Ya, all over like a fanboy tweaking out on energy drinks. She was awesome, perfect, beautiful. Everything a magic sword could be. When Binghe was out running the first errand Shen Yuan gave him, on the sly, Shen Yuan had to hug the sword. Really, she was just perfect. And the warm, reassuring pulse of qi he felt from her told him she knew she was perfect. Her stand was excellent, ebony wood inlaid with mother of pearl. Otherwise, that would be the first thing he’d buy. Not that she was on the stand much anymore. Shen Yuan needed to practice going about his daily life with a sword on his waist or in his hand. Wouldn’t do to accidentally leave her in the bathroom!
And thank any god willing to listen, but the bathrooms weren’t as rustic as they should have been. A talisman disposed of waste, but water still needed to be hauled in. Which proved to be a problem.
You’d think he’d asked for that servant woman’s first born with the way she hmped and dawdled about when he requested bathwater. With Binghe out on his most important first mission, he needed someone else to fetch it for him. He didn’t know how to do it. And really, wasn’t that something any servant could do? She was lurking near the seclusion courtyard anywhere, obviously not doing anything else. The absolute disrespect had him clenching his jaw.
“This century, if you don’t mind,” Shen Yuan slammed the doors on the unpleasant woman’s face. Well, a bath would certainly help clear his mind, but it wasn’t necessary. At least the original goods was fastidious about personal hygiene.
He sat in front of small bronze mirror and preceded to practice his hair styling. Really, it wasn’t too hard with all the practice he had doing his mei mei’s hair, but re-familiarizing himself wouldn’t hurt. It was unlikely Binghe would be any help. Shen Yuan doubted the original goods had ever let the boy touch him, let alone assist in styling his hair.
Speaking of that boy, Shen Yuan wondered how he would fare on his first mission. Well, it wasn’t as if Binghe was new to running errands, but it was Shen Yuan’s first time assigning one!
And if that bath water did manage to arrive, maybe Binghe could make use of it afterwards? Because new clothes would only fix so much. The look on the boy’s face when Shen Yuan had presented him with his shopping list and coins. The food, sure the lad understood that, but the money for new clothes and shoes for the boy himself had Binghe stammering and tearing up. Even when Shen Yuan had explained it was just to make him look more respectable for running additional errands. You’d think the boy had never had new clothes before. Which actually, given the setting, he probably hadn’t. That was a bit too depressing to dwell on for long.
Shen Yuan finally fell back on his last pastime available in his seclusion: poking around his assortment of books that he currently had available. Thinking of the bookshelves back in his actual quarters filled him with longing, but these would have to do in the meantime. Even though there wasn’t a single bestiary to be found in his trunks. Maybe Binghe could sneak back into his quarters and fetch some supplementary reading material?
Shen Yuan dismissed the idea almost as soon as he had it. He didn’t know how serious an infringement such as act would be. Yue Qingyuan must be super pissed that Shen Qingqiu hadn’t shown his face at the wedding. Would he take it out on his disciple? Shen Yuan would just have to wait to start going through the bestiaries.
And really, the more Shen Yuan thought about it, the more he was convinced that he was right to not attend the wedding. He was in the seclusion courtyard, still being punished for crimes Shen Yuan had never committed. Why fixate on him attending the wedding? It seemed to be overly cruel on Yue Qingyuan’s part, like he was really trying to rub it in. What sort of beast treated his heartbroken husband of ten years like that?
Shen Yuan really was not looking forward to seeing his face again. Depending on how successful Binghe’s future missions were, maybe he would never have to. But Shen Yuan was uncertain of the time frame. Sure, he remembered the setting, the protagonist, Yue Qingyuan and his own character, Shen Qingqiu. There were schemes, but he couldn’t really remember the details except that his character had been killed off, a route he was dedicated in the utmost to avoiding. One of the more dramatic events did involve demons, demons attacking the manor to bride nap Lord Yue’s new husband. Hopefully Shen Yuan would be able to avoid that event all together! But otherwise, he felt like he was flying blind. And the solution to that was more research.
He had to work himself up to read the love letters Lord Yue had written for the husband he must have loved, at some point. They wouldn’t that bad, per se, but knowing how things had turned out, the youthful hopes and promises conveyed in them were like a knife in the gut. He would finish them later, for research purposes, but for now, the few he’d managed to read through would have to be enough.
Binghe arrived in good cheer just as the churlish servant and another she had impressed into service had hauled in a few measly buckets of water. They departed with hardly a bow, and Shen Yuan was relieved when the doors to his temporary quarters finally closed.
Shen Yuan had Binghe show off his treasures, which it seemed he had successfully haggled down to a nearly criminal price. The shoes were practical enough, and the pants and robes a little long, which was just smart planning for a growing boy. A thicker, outer robe was also part of his purchases, but Shen Yuan worried it wouldn’t be warm enough. Well, it was only spring now, there would be time to find him warmer clothes.
Binghe had also managed to get quite a few ingredients to start their own supplementary pantry.
“Binghe has done well,” Shen Yuan praised him and passed back some of the copper coins his disciple had returned as change. It would do well to reward him often since he would be handling even larger sums soon. Shen Yuan waved off his protests and bade him to store his new belongings. With the kid distracted, he went to go see about the bath water situation.
Of course, those awful bitches hadn’t brought enough to fill the tub. And it couldn’t really be called hot. Luke warm was pushing it.
Shen Yuan ran back to his books and whipped out the one he’d been perusing earlier on talismans. Writing with a traditional brush was daunting, so he thought it would be best to practice first. And with Binghe distracted, no one would see any of his abysmal attempts. He didn’t remember if Shen Qingqiu was any good with talismans, but as an adult cultivator with a golden core, this was probably nothing beyond the pale.
Tearing some paper into the appropriate sizes and grinding the cinnabar ink, Shen Yuan eyed the talisman design again. Once the ink was ready, and he put his brush to the paper, he was ready to praise every god that would hear his lowly words. Muscle memory for the win! The lines flowed gracefully from his hand; the ink shone smoothly. The simple heating spell took form underneath his hand, and Shen Yuan had to hold in a little shriek of excitement. It looked bloody awesome too, but of course, it would be best if it actually worked. Waving the paper to dry it quickly, he made his way back to the bathroom and slapped the talisman on the bathtub. With a small burst of qi, the writing fizzled and was gone.
Shen Yuan squinted at the half-full bath. There still wasn’t any steam. Well, practice would make perfect. Dipping a hand in the water, he pulled it back in shock. It was definitely warmer. Not hot springs warm, but climbing in wouldn’t be a hardship. Stripping behind a conveniently placed screen that doubled as a place for him to hang his clothes, Shen Yuan slipped into the not-perfect but definitely not terrible first bath of his transmigration.
Finally feeling relaxed, he leaned back and closed his eyes. A warm, and dare he hope, hot bath was the ultimate luxury. It would be impossible to give it up. If he really was going to travel this world, he would seriously need to up his game. Talismans first, as they seemed the easiest to pick up. Binghe’s second mission would be part of how he could secure funds, but more would be needed. On the road, they could take night hunts, but small villages rarely had the funds to pay wandering cultivators. Depending on how he was able to break free of his ruined marriage, he might be able to frequent larger towns. But that was a huge assumption. Just thinking of Qingyuan’s stupid, smug face was enough to make his blood boil.
There would be dangers on the road as well, namely other people, and he would have no status to demand respect once divorced. And what about the more interesting of all the creatures he hoped to see? He didn’t want to hurt of them, but it would be impossible to avoid all confrontations. He needed to get back into practice when Xiu Ya. Training up Binghe would be the perfect excuse.
“Shizun?” Binghe’s meek voice came from outside the bathroom door.
“Hmm?" So sue him. A hot bath would make anyone lazy.
“Does Shizun require anything else of this servant?” Shen Yuan didn’t understand how Shen Qingqiu could have been so strict with him. Binghe was such a white lotus. Shen Yuan suspected he could win over his loyalty very easily.
But did he want to? Did he really want to bring this kid on the road with him? It would be less lonesome, certainly, but it would also be exhausting always having to put on a face for an audience.
Maybe it wouldn’t even be an issue. Perhaps Binghe would choose to cut ties with him and go his own way. And regardless, it would be Binghe’s choice. Shen Yuan was responsible for him. He certainly couldn’t leave him behind in this hellhole.
Remembering that the boy in question was still waiting for a response, Shen Yuan said,” Nothing else is needed for now. Perhaps Binghe could see about dinner?” That left it nice and open. Perhaps the kitchens would deign to feed this spouse. Perhaps his poor little disciple would also have to play cook. Either way, they’d figure it out. Shen Yuan refused to be broken by a harem novel.