Chapter Text
Proud Immortal Demon Way was a horrible stallion novel full of an unending string of contrived plants, which were nowhere near as interesting as the monsters. They also all had uninspired names like “Thousand-Leaves This or That” or “Blooming Petals Something or Other.” One particularly uninspired flower was the Worry-Me-Not, which was basically just a pink variant of a forget-me-not and carried the expected amnesiac effects.
However, this was one flower that Shen Qingqiu knew very well.
The Worry-Me-Not was a key element of a series of extras. The three-chapter side story had been published late into the webnovel’s run, but the events were backdated far earlier in the timeline—right after the original Shen Qingqiu’s sentencing. The side story focused on Liu Mingyan and her feelings on having finally gotten the revenge she sought on her brother’s killer. She was dissatisfied with what seemed like a simple sentencing—unaware of Luo Binghe’s torturous plans for the scum villain—and worried that she hadn’t properly avenged her brother nor was she living up to his legacy. Liu Mingyan’s worries got so excessive that she drank the Worry-Me-Not tea willingly, and ended up forgetting she had a brother at all.
Without Liu Qingge as her role model and motivator, Liu Mingyan’s honorable nature turned volatile and power-hungry, causing problems among the still-forming harem and even picking fights with Luo Binghe himself. She disappeared to hunt down a powerful artifact to advance her cultivation, and what followed was a sort of road trip sequence wherein Luo Binghe chased his wayward wife down and traveled with her, and spent the time gradually convincing her that she would be better off with her memories intact, even if they had upset her. That it would be better to remember this person she had forgotten and live with the grief than to dishonor him by erasing him from her mind. Of course, rather than spend years carefully formulating a cure, the issue was resolved with ol’ reliable papapa on the floor of the temple where they found the artifact—though at least it was fade-to-black since it was Liu Mingyan.
It was a surprisingly poignant arc about grief and the ways to honor a loved one’s memory, and even ended off with Luo Binghe’s quiet thoughts about what his washerwoman mother might think of how he had ended up. Shen Yuan had spared a rare few positive comments for Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky after reading the three-chapter extra, saying that maybe he really was capable of decent writing after all.
So of course that hack author hadn’t remembered any of it!
Shen Qingqiu was going to strangle Shang Qinghua the next time he saw him. Of all the flowers to forget! And more than that, that idiot absolutely could have figured out a way to let Shen Qingqiu know Luo Binghe was alive and that they needed to plan escape routes without triggering the flower’s effects, but no—every time, Shang Qinghua kept using terms like ‘the protagonist’ or ‘scum villain’ or, worst of all, ‘my son.’ With the Worry-Me-Not suppressing the System, of course that meant it would also erase anything that hinted at this world being a novel!
And what was with this hidden quest? What ‘heartfelt reunion?’ Shen Qingqiu was the scum villain, not some harem sister! Luo Binghe was going to—
Luo Binghe was…
“Shizun?” Luo Binghe asked, having noticed Shen Qingqiu’s strange mood. His voice was frighteningly close, and Shen Qingqiu opened his eyes to see that protagonist-level face hovering inches from his. Luo Binghe was right above him, all but trapping Shen Qingqiu in with his elbows braced on either side of him, and he was still…inside…
Shen Qingqiu’s brain blue-screened.
“Off— Get off,” he choked out.
Luo Binghe blinked a couple times. “Shizun?”
“Luo Binghe, get off of me.”
The reaction was immediate; Luo Binghe sprang back, withdrawing his heavenly pillar way too quickly and making Shen Qingqiu hiss. Fuck, was this how he was planning to kill him? Even if it was for revenge, wasn’t going to that level with another man a little too extreme for a stallion protagonist?!
“Shizun?” Luo Binghe repeated tremulously from the foot of the bed—which was actually pretty far considering the bed’s size. “Shizun, did I—did I hurt you?”
Wouldn’t you like to know?!
Shen Qingqiu pressed his hands to his face and wished he could scream. He sat up, ignoring the ache in his lower half as well as the feeling of…something…dripping out of him. He spared a moment to pull a blanket over his lap before curling in on himself and burying his face in his knees.
There was no point in trying to run; he could never escape. He was in Luo Binghe’s palace, entirely cornered, his idiotic amnesiac self having been lured right into the spider’s web. Even if he did have a chance to escape, his legs were currently in no shape to attempt any such thing after—that. Maybe that was part of Luo Binghe’s plan.
His thoughts and memories were in a terrible disarray. Everything was jumbled; the things hidden by the Worry-Me-Not were revealing themselves in ebbs and flows, sometimes disappearing back into the pink fog before returning. The new memories Shen Qingqiu had formed while under the flower’s effects were getting buffeted by the currents as well, some being recontextualized and others even slipping into the fog for a brief moment before returning. On top of it all, it felt like he was re-experiencing every headache the Worry-Me-Not had induced all at once. The book had said something about Liu Mingyan needing a few minutes to adjust to the return of her memories, but Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t have thought it would be like this.
“Shizun…please say something…” Luo Binghe’s voice wavered, and Shen Qingqiu’s mind bounced back and forth between believing it to be genuine and believing it to be a manipulation tactic to trick his scum shizun.
Without lifting his head, Shen Qingqiu sucked in a deep breath. “Was Luo Binghe aware that a heavenly demon’s…jing is capable of curing a great many ailments?”
“Curing…?”
“This master’s memories are returning.”
Silence. Shen Qingqiu refused to lift his head and see what expression was on Luo Binghe’s face. Was he going to laugh? Cruelly tell him that he was just going along with the stupid things Shen Qingqiu had said and done without his memories, waiting until he got them back to spring his final trap? Bing-ge had certainly played a few long games like that in the novel—it wasn’t entirely out of the question, even if the gay part was, uh…
Speaking of which, how the hell did a few missing memories turn Shen Qingqiu gay?! What the fuck was up with that?! Did that wifeplot-ass hidden quest include some sort of gay beam when it was assigned to him?
【Answering User: this System did not interfere with your personal preferences for the sake of the quest. User’s decisions and feelings were his own.】
You.
Shen Qingqiu mentally rounded on the System. “Just what kind of quest was this, ah? All those fucking wifeplots?! Did you just want to humiliate me and make it easier for Binghe to lure me into his revenge plans?”
【…Reminding User that this System was in low-power mode when User was inflicted with the flower’s effects. With no way to communicate with you, this System had no other choice but to initiate a special quest in order to prevent you from unknowingly reducing any point values to zero and incurring punishment.】
“What, like a failsafe?”
【Correct! This System didn’t want to risk you triggering a punishment protocol while you were unable to agree to the terms and conditions, so a special quest was assigned in order to make it easier for you to maintain a positive point balance!】
Shen Qingqiu considered that. Ignorance truly was bliss, as they say—though he didn’t fully get how shoving a bunch of wifeplots onto him helped to maintain his point balance. He certainly wouldn’t complain about being protected from accidentally triggering any punishment protocols, but since when did the System ever care about that?
【This System underwent an update when it reconnected with its power source! (ﻭ๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ】
Motherfucking—
“This disciple understands.”
The sound of Luo Binghe’s voice had Shen Qingqiu’s head snapping up in surprise. He’d been so quiet and the System so irritating that Shen Qingqiu had nearly forgotten he was there!
Instead of laughing or gloating about his victory, Luo Binghe looked…well, he looked almost like a kicked puppy. He slid off the bed—still fully naked, as if this situation wasn’t absurd enough—with his shoulders slumped and his head bowed, imaginary tail between his legs. As an obvious afterthought, he grabbed a discarded robe and threw it over his shoulders, gaze lowered to the floor the whole time as he fastened it. “This disciple will take Shizun back to Qing Jing Peak, and then…he won’t disturb Shizun with his presence again.”
Shen Qingqiu stared at him. His head hurt like hell—a ton of memories cramming themselves back into your mind and trying to slot into places that no longer quite fit will do that to a person. But it made it even harder for him to understand what was going on. Was Luo Binghe…not going to kill him? Or at least start the long process of torture and human-sticking? Surely he didn’t think that one mildly uncomfortable round of papapa served as enough revenge!
Or—no, wait. Did Luo Binghe even want revenge?
The thought of a post-Abyss Luo Binghe not wanting to seek revenge on the scum who threw him in was nigh inconceivable. But as Shen Qingqiu’s mind gradually filtered through the influx, he couldn’t help but think that Luo Binghe…really had seemed genuine this past year. Bing-ge was a phenomenal actor who could easily hide a knife behind a sweet smile, yes, but wouldn’t all of this have been a bit too far for a revenge plot? The crying, the stickiness, the kindness—hell, Luo Binghe had willingly sealed away Xin Mo! His golden finger! It was still locked up in the Bamboo House at this very moment! And then there were the things Luo Binghe had said about how he…felt towards Shen Qingqiu. And then what they did…
He really didn’t know what to think.
“This disciple will leave Shizun alone to…clean up.” Luo Binghe’s voice turned small and shy at the end. “When Shizun’s ready, we can—”
“Hold on.” Shen Qingqiu held up a hand to stop him, the other rubbing his temple. “Where are you going? Aren’t you going to…”
He trailed off. It wasn’t like he could outright say, ‘Aren’t you going to start on your torture and revenge now?’ What was he, an idiot?
Luo Binghe misunderstood his question. “This disciple didn’t think Shizun would want his assistance. Or his presence.”
What did that matter? Ah, Luo Binghe was really too sweet. Or—no, he wasn’t being sweet, this was a manipulation tactic. Or… Ugh, it really was too difficult to think like this. Shen Qingqiu squeezed his eyes shut and brought his other hand up to massage the other temple.
“Is Shizun in pain?”
“Mn, side effect of the memories returning,” Shen Qingqiu muttered absentmindedly. “Binghe, could you…?”
There were a few moments where nothing happened, and then the bed dipped nearby and Shen Qingqiu felt warm hands gently push aside his own so Luo Binghe could press his own fingers to his temples. He massaged them, channeling some qi as well, and Shen Qingqiu immediately sagged with relief as the pain eased. The blood parasites stayed dormant—Luo Binghe had said something a month or so back about still being hesitant to use them for anything involving the brain. Ah, this disciple of his was really so diligent and considerate.
Right?
Right. What reason was there to fear Luo Binghe? This was his sweet, maiden-hearted disciple who had always been so good. Who had been so happy to be reunited and to return to Qing Jing Peak. Who had flung himself in Shen Qingqiu’s lap and cried and begged not to be thrown away when his demonic heritage was revealed (again). Who had missed Shen Qingqiu during those years he was gone…
…because Shen Qingqiu had pushed him into the Abyss! Gah!
“Is Shizun so disgusted by the sight of this disciple after regaining his memories that he won’t even look at him?” Luo Binghe asked sullenly.
“Who could be disgusted by the sight of you?” slipped out of Shen Qingqiu’s mouth unbidden, and he promptly snapped it shut.
The flow of qi briefly stuttered. “Shizun pushes me away and refuses to look at me, but accepts my help in relieving his pain and says things like that. This stupid disciple is truly confused.”
You’re confused? Losing my memories somehow bent me! And may or may not have bent the most stallion of stallion protagonists to boot!
“Won’t Shizun at least tell this lowly disciple what it is about him that Shizun abhors now that his memories are back? You— Before, you didn’t even dislike heavenly demons, and you even— Is it just me? I really don’t…”
His voice wavered and cracked as he spoke, and Shen Qingqiu’s wary heart softened despite himself. If this really was a manipulation attempt, then it was a damn good one, because he had no defenses against it.
He was starting to think more and more that maybe it wasn’t manipulation at all, though.
“This master doesn’t abhor you,” he said into the safety of his closed eyes. “This master…” He blushed at the thought of the things his amnesiac self had felt towards Luo Binghe. Things that, concerningly, were not going away now that his memories had returned. Putting that aside for now, he let out a breath. “Binghe has always been my good disciple.”
“Then,” Luo Binghe’s voice trembled, and even without looking there was no doubt that he had tears spilling over onto his cheeks. How bad was Shen Qingqiu at raising a stallion that he ended up with one that cried so much, ah? “Then why did you— Shizun remembers now, right? If it wasn’t my being a heavenly demon, and it wasn’t me, then…?”
Shen Qingqiu internally groaned. It wasn’t like he could explain transmigration and terrible quests and punishment protocols! But at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to make up an outright lie to this child who deserved an answer. In the end, he decided lamely on, “There are things I can’t reveal at this time, unfortunately. But back then I had a choice I needed to make, and I knew Binghe would survive the Endless Abyss and even come out stronger for it.”
Granted, he’d thought Luo Binghe would take the full five years instead of rushing his leveling and coming out with a bond to Xin Mo that was even more fucked up than Bing-ge’s in Proud Immortal Demon Way, but he digressed.
Luo Binghe’s breath hitched. “Shizun knew I would come back for him?”
…Not in the way you’re thinking, young man! Honestly, how did Shen Qingqiu fuck up a perfectly good stallion protagonist so much?
“Will Shizun look at me?”
Belatedly, Shen Qingqiu realized his head no longer hurt quite so much, so he obliged. There were indeed tear tracks on Luo Binghe’s face and more lying in wait in his eyes, the tip of his nose flushed a charming red. Shen Qingqiu’s hands moved of their own accord to reach up and cup his face to wipe them away; the habit had been ingrained in him these past few months, it seemed.
At the sight of the soft expression Shen Qingqiu didn’t realize he was wearing, Luo Binghe’s lower lip trembled. “Shizun really can’t tell me?”
“No. I…no,” Shen Qingqiu heaved a sigh. “Binghe deserves answers that this master wishes he was allowed to give.”
Something flashed in Luo Binghe’s eyes, that protagonist brain of his analyzing Shen Qingqiu’s wording. In that moment, Shen Qingqiu feared for the System a bit. Only a bit. That look disappeared and Luo Binghe nodded firmly. “This disciple understands.”
Oh boy. The System should definitely watch out.
“If not that,” Luo Binghe continued, “then could Shizun promise to tell me one other thing?”
The paranoid part of Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help thinking that this would be when Luo Binghe pulled the rug out from under him. Still, he said, “Of course. Whatever Binghe wishes to know.”
“Does Shizun regret it?”
‘It’ didn’t need to be clarified; there was only one thing that Luo Binghe would look so hopeful about Shen Qingqiu regretting. The last bits of the defensive walls around Shen Qingqiu’s heart melted at the sight of Luo Binghe’s pleading expression. This, he could answer.
“More than anything,” he said, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind Luo Binghe’s ear. He’d regretted pushing Luo Binghe into the Abyss immediately. Hell, he’d pre-regretted that shit the day the System told him it was unavoidable!
Fresh tears spilled out of Luo Binghe’s eyes as he gave a tentative smile. “Really?”
“If this master could go back…” Shen Qingqiu sighed and thumbed away the tears again. “Ah, but there are no ‘what-ifs’ in this world.”
“Even so,” Luo Binghe’s hands gently caught Shen Qingqiu’s wrists as he stared into his eyes. “It’s enough to hear Shizun say that. That he regrets it and would have prevented it from happening, if he had the chance. Just knowing Shizun feels that way now…it means everything to me.”
…Ah. Shen Qingqiu hadn’t really considered that. Bing-ge, after all, had determinedly paid back every slight a thousandfold—he wasn’t exactly running around asking for apologies, and especially not from the scum villain! Then again, it was becoming more and more obvious just how little his Binghe had in common with the protagonist of Proud Immortal Demon Way.
Luo Binghe’s thumbs brushed the sensitive skin of Shen Qingqiu’s inner wrists. “Is Shizun’s head feeling better?”
“Mn, the memories are mostly sorted out now.”
“Then, in that case…” Luo Binghe bit his lip. “Does Shizun still accept this disciple’s suit?”
Seriously?! The gay thing was still happening?! Shen Qingqiu coughed a bit, turning away. “Binghe, you—you still want that? Even after…” he had no idea how to finish that sentence, with how much there was to convey.
“My feelings weren’t the ones at risk of changing with the return of Shizun’s memories,” Luo Binghe pointed out.
That was a fair point. Had Shen Qingqiu’s feelings changed? They should have; he wasn’t gay, after all. And yet, as he did his best attempt at a scan of his emotions, he found that there was still an alarming lack of difference in that aspect. Maybe it would just take some time for them to fade…?
But then where would that leave them? After everything Shen Qingqiu had done and everything he put his poor disciple through, this was really the only thing Luo Binghe wanted in return. No revenge, no harem, just…Shen Qingqiu.
Fine, whatever! Clearly, Shen Qingqiu had ruined this stallion to hell and back. He may as well take responsibility. It was better than being turned into a human stick, even if it meant a lifetime of taking another kind of human stick within himself.
Grumbling in his heart but unable to be too upset by the situation, Shen Qingqiu looped his arms around Luo Binghe’s neck and pulled him in rather than answer out loud. He felt Luo Binghe’s smile against his lips, and his own quirked up to match.
Six Months Later
“Shizun!” Luo Binghe crashed through the door of the Bamboo House, thoroughly startling Shen Qingqiu. It was only by the grace of his reflexes that he managed not to blot the ink of the report he was filling out.
“Luo Binghe!” he snapped. “Do you think you have such privileges as to not need to conduct yourself with the decorum expected of any other Qing Jing disciple?”
Luo Binghe didn’t hear a word he said. He pointed behind himself, mouth opening and closing. “Shizun, there’s— Outside—”
Alarmed that anything could make Luo Binghe stammer like that, Shen Qingqiu quickly stood and swept out the door. He stopped just outside, confused to find nothing amiss—it was a lovely day, with a light breeze stirring the bamboo, and the sounds of the advanced guqin class audible in the distance. He turned back with an arched brow.
Luo Binghe opened his mouth as if to explain, then opted to grab Shen Qingqiu’s hand and ignore his flustered protests as he dragged him through a gap in the bamboo and down a small path. As they walked, it became more and more apparent where their destination was.
Ah, so he finally found it.
Took him long enough. In the six months since Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu had, ah, confirmed their relationship, they had been splitting their time between Qing Jing Peak and the Demon Realm as they gradually settled and adjusted themselves. A couple weeks ago, Luo Binghe had finally ‘come out’ as a demon to the sect with Shen Qingqiu’s support. Surprisingly, all it took was Shen Qingqiu threatening to leave the sect for Yue Qingyuan to fold to the idea of having a heavenly demon among the ranks. His eyes had looked almost sad as he said, ‘Whatever makes Qingqiu-shidi happy. You will always have Cang Qiong Mountain’s support.’
Additionally, Luo Binghe had thoroughly ‘cured’ Shen Qingqiu of the Worry-Me-Not’s effects repeatedly and enthusiastically these past months—and then rejoiced when Shen Qingqiu belatedly remembered to mention that Without a Cure was gone as well. Said rejoicing led to yet another round of papapa, which Shen Qingqiu’s old hips very much regretted.
In any case, including those months, that meant it was over a year and a half ago that Luo Binghe returned to Qing Jing Peak! How the hell did it take him so long to find this place?
Sure enough, Luo Binghe pulled up to a stop in a small clearing full of tiny white flowers that took up all the space available, save for the thin path up to a little mound of dirt. “Shizun, this disciple stumbled upon this clearing while on a walk. Is it— Is this what I think it is?”
Ahhh, how embarrassing! Shen Qingqiu fought back a grimace at the sight of all the flowers that his mournful amnesiac self had tended to. Luo Binghe wasn’t even dead, idiot! As for whether or not Shen Qingqiu had continued to tend to this little garden project ever since his memories returned—let’s not get into that. It would be unsightly and disrespectful if he let it get disorganized and wild, is all.
Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat. “Well. Binghe is aware that this master thought him dead after he lost his memories.”
“Ning-shijie told me that she found Shizun at the ‘sword mound’ the day she gave him the tea,” said Luo Binghe. “Which would have been before Shizun lost his memories.”
Shen Qingqiu’s face burned, and he swept his fan up to cover it. “Binghe also knows that this master regretted his actions at the conference; is it so unreasonable that I would have expressed that in some way?” He added, “And the flowers didn’t come until after, for the record. And they cropped up on their own; I certainly didn’t plant them.”
“But you did tend to them.”
“So what if I did? Is that so wrong? They reminded me of Binghe.”
“Really?” Luo Binghe looked at the flowers, then back at Shen Qingqiu, genuine confusion on his face. “In what way?”
Shen Qingqiu hesitated. There was no way his face was thick enough to say that it was because he’d thought of his young disciple as a white lotus! Of course, these flowers obviously weren’t lotuses—he actually had no idea what sort of flower they were—but still. White flowers, white lotus. It was close enough for his amnesiac self.
Sensing that he wouldn’t get an answer, Luo Binghe said, “The flowers also look like they’ve been tended to recently.”
“Did you just bring me here to fish for sentiment?” Shen Qingqiu asked. Then, hiking his fan higher, he grumbled, “Binghe already knows I care for him.”
Luo Binghe beamed at that. He was still holding Shen Qingqiu’s hand, and he reached for the other one as well, making him lower the fan. He giddily swung their joined hands like a schoolgirl with her crush. “This disciple can never get tired of hearing it said, though.”
Shen Qingqiu huffed and accepted the kiss that Luo Binghe planted on his lips. A moment later, his hands were released so that Luo Binghe could loop his arms around his waist as he deepened the kiss, and the hairs on the back of Shen Qingqiu’s neck stood up ominously before Luo Binghe even broke away to murmur, “Shizun, do you think we could…?”
Shen Qingqiu squawked in flustered offense. “Binghe, that’s—! Here?! Does your shamelessness know no bounds?”
Luo Binghe grinned and pressed a kiss to his cheek, hands already plucking at Shen Qingqiu’s sash. “Not when it comes to Shizun.”
“It’s disrespectful!” Shen Qingqiu batted at his hands, to no real effect.
“It’s my sword mound, isn’t it?” Luo Binghe countered with the exact wide-eyed pout that Shen Qingqiu was weak to. “Shouldn’t I get to decide that?”
Well.