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In Shen Qinqiu’s mind, it was all perfectly justified.
He had considered his options- throwing his dear disciple in to what amounted to hell, or finding an alternative solution no matter the cost- and decided that there was no way he was going to allow himself to hurt his cute bun like that.
He had argued with the system for weeks about what would constitute a massive enough change that Luo Binghe would no longer need to be sent into the abyss in order for the plot to progress nicely. In the end the only options were Shen Qingqiu’s own death, or the complete incapacitation of his disciple.
Now, some might say that it would be less cruel to simply prepare the boy as best he could before sending him to face the trials that would permit him to become a full fledged demon lord and allowing him to reach his full potential, but Shen Qingqiu had seen what that had done to the original protagonist.
The original was considered blackend for a reason. The ordeals he was forced to face while in the endless abyss were more than traumatizing, and dealing with Xin Mo after that was barely, if at all, worth the power and prestige that came with it. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t bring himself to force his sweet disciple into that kind of situation if there was an alternative that allowed him to stay with his Shizun and be cared for.
Perhaps he would miss some of his friends and the activities he used to find enjoyable, but he would have his master to care for him, and he would be safe from the myriad dangers out in the world. Wasn’t that better? Were these not the exact kind of decisions that teachers were meant to make for their students? Binghe had no idea the consequences of allowing things to progress as they were, so wasn’t Shen Qingqiu practically obligated to do this?
All in all, it probably took Shen Qingqiu a little less time than it should have to fully commit to the idea of doing to his precious Binghe the exact thing he fears from the future version of that very same boy, but it was out of sheer teacherly care. Shen Qingqiu was simply willing to do what was necessary to allow Binghe to thrive.
Having a plan of action, however, did not necessarily mean that he knew the steps necessary to accomplish his task.
In the original novel, Binghe had spared no thought to the pain his former teacher would feel at having his limbs removed beyond the twisted desire to hurt him in revenge. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t have that. The entire point of this was to spare Binghe pain so that he would never become the ruthless demon lord that would commit such atrocities.
He knew, though, that he would not be able to consult anyone at Qian Cao because especially after his major personality shift, there was no way that an inquiry into painless amputation would go over well no matter how much Yue Qingyuan was willing to overlook.
Instead he had to do the research himself in secret. It wasn’t too hard, though it made him miss the internet more each page he had to flip through. What he wouldn’t give for a control+F feature.
He eventually found an array that had been used by war surgeons in the past to quickly remove limbs on the battlefield. Luckily, it even used the qi of the recipient, so Shen Qingqiu’s inconsistent access to his own power couldn’t interrupt the ritual. Better yet, it didn’t require the participant to be conscious or consenting because the kind of patient who needed an amputation was rarely very coherent on the battlefield.
There were a few other considerations that he had to make before he could go through with the ritual, though. He had to find a way to keep Binghe knocked out without activating his heavenly demon heritage and then later explain why the boy seemed to have disappeared.
He decided on a simple toxin that was able to put cultivators or demons to sleep for a full day (it was concocted from a plant that had been mentioned in PIDW but had only been used once for a sleeping beauty-esque scenario. It had also featured heavily in fanfiction, though it always rankled Shen Yuan to think that anyone would think that Luo Binghe would need to use underhanded tactics such as that, or that he would ever fall for such trickery. Hopefully his current unblackened state would mean the deception would sneak past him…)
As for an excuse for his absence, Shen Qingqiu began to spread rumors that Luo Binghe was planning to leave the sect in order to seek out more information about his family. It was believable enough to anyone who didn’t know Binghe well, and it’s not like he had the most close friends on the peak at this point. It was a matter of some clever wordsmithing to make sure that people thought that Binghe was sensitive about the topic to ensure that no one would accidentally spill the beans.
In the end, it was surprisingly easy to find a time to secretly drug his little lamb. He spent all of his time either taking care of his Shizun or being a diligent student, so it was a matter of a quick call of “Binghe, come share some tea with this master,” to get a higher-than-usual dose of the flower tincture into the boy.
He began slurring his speech less than a minute after he finished his cup, and was solidly passed out in less than five.
If Shen Qingqiu had paid more attention to Luo Binghe instead of worrying about his plan, he might have noticed the way the boy’s eyes tracked his mostly concealed emptying of a vial into the boy’s drink. As it was though, he was solidly convinced he was putting one over on his student.
~~~~~
The ritual, thankfully, was bloodless and easy to execute. It took little effort from Shen Qingqiu, and most of the energy necessary from Binghe was simply taken from his soon to be nonexistent limbs.
It was a matter of less than an hour before Shen Qingqiu had his sweet, soft little stick of a bun bundled up in Shen Qingqiu’s own bed to sleep away the rest of the flower’s effects.
That night, Shen Qingqiu allowed himself to curl up around his now pillow shaped disciple in one last indulgence before he likely came to resent his teacher for doing what he had to to keep him safe. He was willing to receive Binghe’s ire so long as he was unable to act on it as long as he knew it was what was right. And keeping Binghe safe was always right.
The next day around midday, only slightly less than the promised 24 hour mark, Binghe began to stir where he lay, slightly propped up by pillows. Shen Qingqiu had taken the day and the next off to help Binghe acclimate to his new normal.
Binghe’s breathing shifted away from his sleeping cadence, but Shen Qingqiu chose to allow him to feign rest a while longer. Waking up without one’s limbs must be disconcerting; he couldn’t blame the boy for not adjusting immediately.
At long last, long enough for Shen Qingqiu to have written half a page worth of valid criticism for a novel he had been reading, Binghe’s eyes opened.
He didn’t speak at first, simply staring at his Shizun, sat at his desk like it was an ordinary day and he hadn’t drugged and quad-amped his favorite student the day prior. Shen Qingqiu chose not to meet his eyes, reminding himself that he had to give his student time.
“Sh-Shizun?” Binghe eventually croaked, throat dry from a full day’s worth of sleep, “Shizun? Why did you remove this disciple’s limbs?”
Ah, straight to the point apparently.
“This master has removed Binghe’s limbs because he keeps getting himself into trouble, and this master has decided that it would be easier to prevent such occurrences if Binghe were unable to find himself in such situations,” Shen Qingqiu replied. It was close enough to the truth, if flimsy at best.
Binghe’s eyes began to water. “This disciple apologizes for being a bother and understands that he was unable to take care of himself.”
He tries to shift himself as if to sit, but has no leverage with which to do so, simply writhing against the sheets pathetically.
At the sight of Binghe’s tears, understanding that his poor bun had misunderstood him, Shen Qingqiu’s mask practically shattered. There was no reason to keep up airs around Binghe now, he wasn’t going to do anything about it or tell anyone, so he was free to act as doting as he wanted. He was going to be entirely responsible for the boy’s emotional and physical wellbeing for, probably forever now.
He quickly got up out of his seated position and ran over to the bed where his little lotus was still trying to orient himself.
“That is not what this master meant by that,” he chided gently, “This master simply meant that he knows that the world is a cruel place and that Binghe has already suffered more than enough in his short life, so this one simply wanted to take care of his disciple and make sure that there was no chance of further misfortune.”
Binghe settled some and craned his neck to look the elder in his eyes. His eyes were still damp from his tears, glistening and pitiful in a way that almost felt impossible to Shen Qingqiu. The protagonist’s puppy dog eyes were too powerful they almost hurt to look at.
“Shizun cares for this disciple?” He whimpered. What a pitiful, sticky disciple Shen Qingqiu found himself with.
“Of course,” He assured, “I’m only doing this out of care for you. I’m going to take care of your every need from now on. No more dealing with those Bai Zhan brutes or dangerous missions. From now on all you need is this master to take care of you.”
Binghe flushed at that, probably shy and unused to receiving care. That would change with Shen Qingqiu in charge. He would make sure his precious white lotus was practically pampered in exchange for his understanding.
Shen Qingqiu was surprised that Binghe hadn’t resisted the situation at all, choosing to see it as the show of affection it was rather than the expected resistance. Well, he hadn’t been nearly as poisoned against his Shizun in this life. Perhaps that had something to do with it.
“Here,” Shen Qingqiu began to move, “allow me to make you more comfortable.”
Binghe seemed distraught at the action. “But this disciple is meant to take care of Shizun, not the other way around.”
He seemed to realise the reality of his situation.
“Oh no. I can’t cook like this, or clean. Shizun, how am I supposed to fulfill my duties as a disciple now?” He was on the verge of crying again, and Shen Qingqiu wanted to sigh.
“These are no longer your responsibilities now. As much as it this master will miss Binghe’s cooking, this was necessary, and sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”
Binghe continued to pout.
“No matter,” Shen Qingqiu continued to adjust the limbless boy until he was in an upright position, “It’s not like you can do anything anyway. Just listen to this master and let me take care of you.”
He lightly poked Binghe on the forehead in lieu of his fan which he had left on the table when Binghe awoke.
“Just be good,” He ordered.
For some reason this made Binghe’s face grow pink again.
~~~~~~~
Over the next day or so, while Shen Qingqiu was still ignoring his peak lord duties, he helped his disciple adjust to his new life as a pampered little stick. It was also a great adjustment for Shen Qingqiu.
He had never been in charge of every single need of another creature before. Binghe could not move around or feed himself, so it was up to Shen Qingqiu to feed bites into his soft, pink mouth and ignore the way his lips looked around the chop sticks. If he stared some, it was just to make sure that his bun wasn’t choking, nothing more.
The food was one of the hardest adjustments. Shen Qingqiu had become much too used to waking up and immediately being greeted with a congee that would melt the iciest of hearts, with delectable snacks throughout the day. Binghe also complained, though not productively, because he knew there was no way he could cook in his current state. His petulant little pouts at the still delicious but subpar compared to the protagonist meals were kind of cute actually.
Shen Yuan was also in charge of cleaning the room now that Binghe was unable and no one could be allowed in lest they learn of the former disciple being kept there. Not that there was anything wrong or illicit about what he had done- illicit maybe, but not wrong- but he knew that others would never understand.
His Binghe was happy, despite the changes. He delighted over the care that Shen Qingqiu took to keep him comfortable, and seemed to thrive being kept in his Shizun’s bed all day, comfortable as anything.
He pouted some when Shen Qingqiu had to return to at least partial duties for the sect, but there wasn’t anything he could do but whine, and while it was very cute and convincing, Shen Qingqiu knew that hiding away for too long would invite suspicion.
After a few weeks of this treatment, Shen Qingqiu’s white lotus, a stem now but no less stunning for it, was even becoming physically softer due to the inactivity and attentive care he received. Shen Qingqiu thought that it was almost like he was glowing. He took very well to being cared for.
~~~~~~~
Toiletries were another concern. Shen Qingqiu took pleasure in getting to sink his hands into Binghe’s thick hair when he bathed the boy, but relieving other necessities was slightly more awkward.
They ended up with a system where Shen Qingqiu could hold Binghe where he needed to be, and assist as minimally as possible to decrease awkwardness
Shen Qingqiu did his best not to look at the heavenly pillar when it was revealed to him, but he found his eyes occasionally unable to look away. Even soft, it was large and surprisingly pretty. He couldn’t be blamed for occasionally wrapping his hand around it with more contact than was necessary sometimes; it was the heavenly pillar after all.
If Binghe noticed, he simply blushed more than usual and said nothing.
~~~~~~~
Sleeping in the same bed unfortunately also led to some consequences Shen Qingqiu could not have foreseen, though perhaps anyone else would have.
While Shen Qingqiu was content to wrap himself around his little nugget, Luo Binghe was still the protagonist, and a teenage boy to boot.
It wasn’t long before Shen Qingqiu began to notice a tent in Binghe’s underwear in the mornings. He wasn’t able to conceal it in any way, but he acted so embarrassed, he chose not to address it, shifting the blankets to save the boy some face.
Eventually, though, he grew concerned for Binghe’s health. He was well aware of what it was like to be this age, hormones raging and getting hard over nothing. Being completely unable to get off on his own must be torture.
Part of this concern was assuaged when he woke up one night to movement to see Binghe in the middle of a spring dream using his torso muscles to rut against the mattress in his sleep. At least he wasn’t left with nothing.
But it was practically sacrilegious to force the stallion protagonist to do nothing but rut himself to completion in the night.
So one morning he decided he had had enough.
Binghe, like usual, was hard when they both woke up, a small patch of wetness visible on his nightclothes where the head of his massive pillar rested. Also like usual, he simply blushed and tried to shift to block his Shizun’s sight of his throbbing dick.
Shen Qingqiu, however, was having none of that.
He grabbed him by his waist instead, placing him on his back in clear view, barely stopping to kneel over the boy’s torso before starting to remove the boy’s underwear.
“Sh-Shizun? What are? What’s happening?” He gasped out, looking horrified at the way his dick bounced against his soft tummy as it was released.
“This master has simply decided that in order to properly care for Binghe, he must attend to all of his needs.” Shen Qingqiu wasn’t even looking at Binghe’s face, eyes locked on the almost unnaturally large cock in front of him. He wasn’t salivating at the sight. At all.
“But Shizun,” he cried, gasping as his Shizun reached out a hand, gently trailing a finger around the head, causing his dick to jerk and let out a drop of precum. Shen Qingqiu’s gaze became almost hungrier at the response. “That place is dirty. Shizun shouldn’t-”
Shen Qingqiu cut off his complaints by wrapping a hand around the head abruptly.
“This master will do what he feels is necessary to care for his Binghe,” He scolded.
Binghe was unable to respond, lost in the feeling of lithe, thin fingers wrapped around his aching cock. He tried to thrust up into the grip, but without legs, had no leverage to do more than slight, desperate humping.
“Shh,” Shen Qingqiu soothed, “Just relax and let yourself be taken care of.”
He began to move his hand up and down the shaft, hand slightly loose to reduce the friction on unslicked skin.
“This won’t do,” he murmured to himself. Binghe tried to lift his head at the sound only to see the lewdest sight of his life.
Shen Qingqiu had his mouth open, drooling spit down to where his hand was wrapped around the aching flesh.
“That’s better,” he commented, still to himself, unknowing that he had broken his pure white lotus’ brain wide open with lust with his actions.
With the added lubrication, Shen Qingqiu decided to bring his other hand to help him jack Binghe off. His pillar was so large, both of Shen Qingqiu’s hands were able to grasp him while still leaving inches untouched.
He stroked leisurely up and down the twitching, red dick, occasionally bringing on hand to massage the head and gather more of Binghe’s copious precum to further east his motions.
“Ah, Ah, Shizun, please,” Binghe panted. His face was flushed the prettiest pink Shen Qingqiu had ever seen. His lips were bitten red and parted just slightly, and his eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure.
“More, please, Shizun,” He begged, convulsing and tossing his head back against the soft bed.
What could Shen Qingqiu even do but comply with how needy and pleading he sounded.
He tightened his grip, speeding up his hands and stroking from root to head with each move. Binghe was crying out incoherent pleas for Shen Qingqiu to “Ah, touch me, please, Shizun, more, yes, yes, yes.”
With how pent up he was, it didn’t take Binghe very much longer before he came. He was thrust over the edge by the sight of his Shizun staring hungrily at his cock while he stroked it vigorously.
His orgasm was the strongest he had felt in his life, feeling electric and almost losing sense of where he was briefly. His cum shot all the way up to his chest, coating him in his own release.
Shen Qingqiu stroked him through his climax, hands milking each spurt of come out of him, and only slowing down when Binghe’s whines began to gain a slightly more pained edge to them. He almost wanted to keep stroking and see if he could make his sweet, sticky boy come again and again and again, but he caught himself.
He was doing this to care for Binghe, not to amuse himself. Why would he want to see that anyway? He wasn’t gay. The only reason he was hard and leaking in his pants was because the sight of such a cute and lewd protagonist trying to thrust into his hands would make anyone aroused.
While Binghe was attempting to catch his breath, he almost passed out when he glanced down at where Shen Qingqiu was still kneeling.
He had brought one of his hands, sticky with Binghe’s release, and licked a long stripe up his finger.
Shen Qingqiu was merely curious about the taste of the protagonist’s cum. You see, Airplane, the hack author, had described it as having almost any outlandish but pleasurable taste one could imagine, often entirely contradicting his own words having a wife call it sweet one chapter then savory the next.
To Shen Qingqiu, it was mostly just kind of salty and bitter, a bit musky. He liked the taste of it, for some reason, cleaning another drop off his hand with his tongue before hearing a squeak from Binghe and realising what he was doing and immediately pulling his hand away from his face.
He hoped Binghe hadn’t seen that (he did), how embarrassing was that? It wasn’t his fault the protagonist’s cum was lauded as life changing.
Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t call it life changing in flavour, but he couldn’t deny he wanted more. For reasons.
Instead he controlled himself, once again reminding himself that this was for Binghe’s needs, not his own, perfectly academic curiosity.
“Good Job,” He attempted, trying to adopt a mask of formality after that whole affair. He was fastidiously not looking at the softening dick in front of him, so he missed the way it twitched at the praise, “This master will clean you up now.”
At that, Shen Qingqiu fled the bed to get a damp cloth to wipe Binghe’s stomach off with. Binghe could do no more than hum in acknowledgement, fully out of his mind after everything that had just happened.
Shen Qingqiu wiped Binghe off as pre-cursorily as he was able, though he was perhaps a bit too blatant with his staring at the way Binghe had practically given himself a pearl necklace before wiping it off.
He definitely wasn’t thinking of adding his own to the mess.
They didn’t address the morning’s activities at all through the rest of the day, instead falling back into their new normal with stilted ease.
The next day Binghe woke up hard again.