Chapter Text
The first taste of fresh air is sweeter than any honey Luo Binghe had ever tasted in his life. The Endless Abyss had been full of smoke and blood; the festering scent of rotting meat and the rotten tang of sulfur when the air was even breathable. There were days when he had to hold his breath until he was dizzy, hoping to find pockets of unpoisoned air, and when that didn’t work, relying on his blood to carry him through regardless of the acid burning his lungs.
Luo Binghe is dizzy with relief to hear crickets chirping in the night and not the distant thunder of hooves meaning a stampede was on its way or the howls and growls of creatures sizing him up for dinner. He clings to his pendant, thanking his mother for protecting him through what most certainly was a literal hell. Above shines the moon, full and round, and gleaming with more light than he’s seen since he was pushed into the Endless Abyss. It’s blinding in its beauty, literal white moonlight as he’s been dreaming of it for ages now.
Steam and smoke pour out of the still open portal as he forces his shaky legs to carry him the final steps through to freedom. Xin Mo had been a godsend after so long wandering, begging for some way back home. To stumble upon such a powerful blade which could make his wildest dreams come true had been unbelievable until he cut the portal here.
Tears cut through the filth on his face as the reality sets in. “I’m home,” Luo Binghe cheers in a voice so destroyed by smoke it might as well be a whisper. “I made it.”
Then his knees hit the soft grass, so soft he could sleep here for eternity. He collapses like a puppet with cut stings the second the portal closes behind him, freeing him from that hell at last. Even a Heavenly Demon needs to rest, needs to have hope that there is something to keep striving towards.
~
Sometime later Luo Binghe opens his eyes only to realize the moon is no longer bright overhead, but has moved across the sky. He misses her. Then he hears a voice. “Are you what I sensed?” a fairy asks of him. The first rays of false dawn are making the distant sky pink and it haloes the fairy speaking to him in rosy brilliance. It’s hard to make out features, even that much light too much for him after so long in the darkness of the Endless Abyss, but he assumes the fairy is the most beautiful being in the whole of the Middle Kingdom.
Luo Binghe even tries to answer the fairy, only to discover that his tongue still doesn’t work. Maybe it hasn’t regrown just yet? It is hard to remember. He slurs something at her, perhaps asking if she will marry him, only to be ignored as she picks him up.
If he had more sense, he might be wary of a stranger finding him in the middle of nowhere and carrying him away, but that can come later. If the Abyss couldn’t kill him, then his fairy won’t either.
His fairy is strong enough to pick him up with ease, carrying him on her back so that he can feel each breath she takes, lets her pulse lull him into a peaceful state. She is a cultivator he realizes as she takes a sword out and steps on it, preparing to fly him somewhere.
“You should marry me,” he forces his mouth to work this time. Then he gets a little distracted with how good she smells, of ink and bamboo and Jasmine tea. “My pretty fairy…”
The fairy scoffs at him and speaks in a voice much deeper than should probably come from a lovely maiden. “Stupid boy. You will forget such nonsense soon enough.”
Luo Binghe shrugs, or tries to before giving up and letting her rhythmic breathing carry him off to sleep.
~
Luo Binghe wakes with a start as water is dropped unceremoniously over his head. He sputters for a moment, prepared to fight, when he hears the same voice from earlier. “Shush, little beast. You are fine. Just filthy,” the fairy from early says.
He is in a tub of warm water he realizes, though the water is filthy. He is naked with only a small towel thrown over his lap to preserve modesty. He should be embarrassed, and he is just a little, but mostly he’s enamored with the beauty he can barely see through the water dripping in his eyes. “Fairy?”
“Stay still,” the fairy says as she pours something else on his head. Some sort of soap she works into his scalp with deft hands. They aren’t gentle like his mother’s had been, but they are sure, working quickly to scrub the rat’s nest masquerading as hair.
Tears bead in his eyes as he realizes this is the most care he’s felt since his mama passed away, and soon they are dripping down into the murky water. Sensing his tears, the fairy gentles her touch, just a little as if taking pity on him.
“Thank you,” Luo Binghe sniffles to her. The room is so dark he can only see due to demonic lineage and his experience in the Abyss. He wonders if she is shy about bathing a male body and that is why she hasn’t lit a single night pearl. “You should marry me.”
“I will do no such thing. You will forget by morning you even made that offer,” the fairy says, leading Luo Binghe to wonder if he’s been proposing while half-asleep and forgetting.
“I mean it though,” he says. “My fairy.”
“Hush, beast. This master is doing you a kindness. Do not expect more than that.”
Luo Binghe forces himself to accept that and allows himself to relax back into the bath. He will have to stop proposing while out of it, and wait until he can prove his affection. He drifts off to her fingers in his hair untangling the mess it’s become and dreaming of what they will wear on their wedding day.
~
Luo Binghe wakes again when the bath is over. The fairy forces him to stand on shaking legs and directs him to a stool where she dresses him in new clothing. The robes don’t close all the way over his chest, leaving his pendant on display. He clutches it in a trembling hand as the fairy oils his hair and combs it, working out every tangle without cutting or ripping it out. More tears come to his eyes, but he blinks them away, unsure why he’s so emotional over something so simple. She pulls a little harder than he would at times, but just the fact that she is taking the time to care for him means the world. “You really should marry me,” he says yet again, feeling like maybe those are the only words his tired mind can conjure.
“Hush now, none of that,” she says, punctuating her denial with a sharp pull to his scalp. “You know nothing about me, and never will.”
Arguing would be useless right now, he realizes. He just can’t string a coherent thought together beyond how pretty his future wife is as she takes care of him. He is already madly, deeply in love with an idea, he just needs her to give him a chance.
He can always try again once he claims his birthright as a Heavenly Demon. Surely, she wouldn’t refuse him then.
She tugs his hair once more, drawing him from his dreamy plans of power and prestige. “Do not fall asleep on me again, you’re heavy enough, I would rather not carry you again.”
It takes all his remaining willpower, but he stays awake through her oiling and combing his wild hair into something manageable. It’s soft, softer than it ever has been he thinks. “Thank you,” he says, trying to hide how watery the words sound.
She says nothing, letting him have his moment of weakness as she leads him to a bed. The sheets are brightly dyed but cheap linen, and the room is shadowed by a multitude of fabric coverings making it hard to know what time it is. No lamps have been lit, but there is some light peeking through the curtains, implying daytime. “Return to sleep,” she orders.
And like a child listening to his mother, he obeys, one hand clutching his pendant tight just as he has done every night since being shoved into the abyss.
~
By the time Luo Binghe wakes again, he sees it is early morning. The curtains have been pulled back but only the barest glimmers of light pass through the windows. His body is clean and bandaged, his wild hair tamed into a braid. Unbidden tears spring to his eyes at the sheer level of care he’s received from this one kind maiden. Empress, he shall make her empress to thank her for such kindness once he conquers the Demon Realm and claims his birthright.
Footsteps draw his attention to the curtains around the bed, and he calls out to the fairy before she can enter. “After all this, you should marry me so that I might show my gratitude.”
“Beasts should not beg for more than their masters will give them,” the fairy snaps as she—he steps through the curtains. The long hair, the elegant features, all the same beauty as the fairy who rescued Luo Binghe, but he sees now in the dim lighting that those features belong to an elegant man. Embarrassment rushes through him, and he feels his face warm to realize he has been proposing to a man this whole time.
Luo Binghe stares down at his lap, unsure how to apologize, when the elegant man shoves a food tray into his hands. The dishes rattle at the force, almost spilling their contents until Luo Binghe settles them more securely on his lap.
“Thanking Daozhang,” Luo Binghe nods his thanks rather than offering a bow and upsetting the dishes again. Then he inspects the dishes and finds a simple congee, a cup of medicinal tea, and youtiao. After years in the Abyss, it’s a divine offering from a godly being.
“This master found sanren lying in the field outside of town and brought you here to tend to your wounds,” the handsome cultivator informs as he perches on a seat by the bed. “If sanren could explain how he ended up there, this master would appreciate it. The last thing this city needs is a wild beast wandering about.”
“No beast,” Luo Binghe hastens to assure, almost overturning the tray in his lap. He steadies it and himself. “This one used a teleportation spell, but it went wrong,” he lies. Surprisingly, he even feels bad for lying to the man, but he can hardly reveal that he is wielding a demonic sword.
Piercing eyes watch him, measuring the truth of him, and Luo Binghe finds himself watching back. The man is beautiful, enough so that he feels shy under that gaze, feels his stomach flutter in a way he associates with crushes. Like the flutters he’d had for Ning Yingying, or shizun’s younger sister, or even shizun himself before the man died.
“I see,” the cultivator says at last. “Eat then, and heal.”
“This one would like to show his gratitude in some way,” Luo Binghe insists. Bai Zhan Peak might not have been the height of polite society, but they had a code of honor all the same. A debt was a debt. “You helped me when you could have left me to die.”
“No need for that,” his savior waves him off, literally by hiding behind a fluttering fan. All that’s left are those piercing green eyes, watching him. “You will forget the debt soon enough.”
Luo Binghe gasps, affronted that he has somehow given this man, his savior, the impression that he is untrustworthy. “I, Luo Binghe, would never forget. I swear to repay all kindness shown to me one thousand-fold.” He even sets the still untouched dishes aside so that he can offer a proper salute.
The other cultivator only rolls his eyes, standing without warning. His flowing white and green robes swish around his body, taking Luo Binghe’s breath away. “Forget me,” he orders. “This master will leave a fresh set of clothing for you, and then you will leave once your injuries are healed a satisfactory amount.”
Before Luo Binghe can argue, the man disappears through the curtains, and out the door, leaving him alone with a cooling tray of food and his thoughts.
“I was serious about marriage,” he mutters to the empty room. “Even if you are a man.”
~
His savior does not return until evening, bringing with him a new meal and a change of clothes just as he said. He sets the tray on the small table to the side of the bed, and then steps away as if to leave.
“Daozhang,” Luo Binghe greets, only for the man to ignore him as he pulls open a few curtains to let in the harsh afternoon light. Then he turns, his body highlighted in the warm tones of sunlight coming from behind him. Like a halo around him, making him more ethereal.
“Let me see your injuries.” The cultivator orders. This time his fan is nowhere to be seen, so that Luo Binghe can admire his face, half shadowed as it is by the backlighting. The features are sharp, unexpectedly masculine and warring with Luo Binghe’s memories of the lovely fairy who rescued him. This is undoubtedly the same being, but it is amazing what sleep deprivation and blood loss will do to perception. Where before he saw a waifish woman with gentle features. Now he sees it was the moonlight softening the lines of long limbs and scholarly features. Still beautiful, but with a strength that Luo Binghe feels drawn to, like the bamboo stalks on Qing Jing Peak.
When the cultivator clicks his tongue, Luo Binghe knows he has taken too long staring, and decides his best option is to obey. “Are you a healer?” he asks as he pulls open his too small robes to expose the bandages wrapped around his torso and shoulders.
“Just a concerned party,” his savior denies as he begins to peel back the stained bandages. What he reveals is fully healed skin, only the slightest of pink marks left behind that will fade by nightfall at this rate. Luo Binghe watches closely as that thin mouth downturns into a severe frown and his eyes narrow into a glare so harsh that makes Luo Binghe want to squirm. Is the man angry he healed so fast? Or is there something else Luo Binghe has done to anger him?
“Daozhang?”
“You are well enough to leave. Eat your meal and change.”
The man turns to go, but Luo Binghe reaches out to stop him. He manages to snag his sleeve, stopping him in his tracks. “Let me repay you for your kindness,” he pleads.
“Do not waste your breath,” the cultivator says, tugging his elegant sleeve from Luo Binghe’s fingers. “You will forget soon enough.”
Then he disappears through the curtains and out the door, closing their conversation with the soft thud of the door sliding back into place.
Luo Binghe hastens to dress and drink down the watery congee, not wanting to dismiss this kindness but still hopeful he might catch the cultivator and thank him for everything.
He follows the man out the door, looking around curiously at the warm and elegant decorations in the hallway. Not a manor, he thinks as he smells the incense in the air and hears the chatter of people down the stairs to the side. He’d not heard any such noise in the room which must have meant it was awarded in some way. Following the sounds brings him to a large room full of women in sultry outfits and men in various states of drunkenness pawing over them.
A brothel?
“Oh, Daozhang,” a girl greets him when she notices him in the room unaccompanied. “How might this A-Hua help the master?” she flutters her eyelashes at him and giggles behind a silk fan.
“My… companion. Can you tell me where he might be? Another cultivator, dressed in white and green. He had a room here,” he says. He watches as the girl frowns in concentration, her flirtation faltering as she tries to remember for him.
“A-Hua doesn’t know,” she pouts. “You could ask around, but if he is not in this room he might have selected one of my sisters for the night.”
Somehow Luo Binghe doubts that, but he thanks the girl for her time. He’d pay her too, but he doesn’t have anything other than these borrowed robes and his sword.
“Thanking A-Hua for her time,” Luo Binghe bows to the girl, and takes his leave. As much as he wants to thank the man who saved him, he has little to his name right now. Perhaps he can find his fairy once more after Luo Binghe enacts his revenge on the man who cursed him to hell in the first place: the Qing Jing Peak Lord.