I snapped and now I have a twelve piece monster in my drafts. Here are the two pieces Iāve polished of this so far under the read more.
Truthfully, Shen Yuan cared very, very little about the ups and downs of the Jianghu. Oh, he's a cultivator to be sure, but all that he is, has been, and will ever be, is part of the painfully mortal world. His work lies in the poorly raked back roads between towns where those with pockets made of mouths without stomachs scream and beg and whine for more, more, more. He's a righteous cultivator by technicality, really. He likes to document the flora and fauna of their world, yes. But, in truth, the only things Shen Yuan slayed with any regularity were men. Besides, when you already knew the entire Jianghu was doomed to be razed to the ground by the might of the one true heavenly demon emperor, it's better for everyone to just stay out of the way. Hmm? Mighty sects? Immortal masters? Why, Shen Yuan doesn't know what you're talking about! You're spewing bull! He's fine over here in his dingy corner, okay!? Being an NPC was preferable, okay!?
He's long since accepted his role in this world and, he hopes, his contributions to it are good in the ways that matter. He's even built a decent rapport with a few traveling merchants. It's at one of their stalls in a minor trade village off the Luo river that things go pear shaped.
It all starts very normal. Welcome, travelling master, how have the roads been treating you? Very well, fine sir, and have they been treating you well? Oh yes! And on and on, blah blah. Shen Yuan had long memorized the perfect, humble-yet-lofty cultivator greeting script. He uses it on everyone shamelessly and it has yet to fail.
"I must say, laoshi, I'm surprised to see you this far north!" The merchant says, very rudely breaking the script. "Shouldn't you be making your way to Huan Hua palace?"
At such a blatant name-drop Shen Yuan felt at least 10 red flags trigger and start waving wildly in his brain. What a convenient merchant! "Oh? Why would I be going there?" He deploys his ultimate social tactic: flicking open a delicate fan to up his mysterious master vibes. It also comes with the bonus skill of keeping any stray panic from disturbing his face.
The merchant leans over his inventory, far too excited to dump the required exposition. "Haven't you heard? The Xiu Ya sword was accused of horrible misdeeds to his sect and the total destruction of the Qiu line! The trial is to be held in ten days time. All of the cultivators from the biggest sects to the most obscure rogues are going to Huan Hua to see it for themselves."
Ah, what a convenient parcel of information delivered so efficiently. Truly, applause all around for such unparalleled NPC work! Shen Yuan had to put his focus on that or else his brain would surely stop working. His scalp is already going numb. "Is that so?" He says. "I appreciate the information."
He floats through the rest of his transaction and only once he's back on the road and a good three li from anyone else, Shen Yuan turns and punches the nearest tree into splinters.
So. They were at the trial already, huh? And apparently the scum villain was taking the credit for burning the Qius to the ground, huh? As if he was there! As if Shen Yuan hadn't spent the past twenty years holding onto his single consolation for a shit childhood, huh? For twenty years he's been laughing to himself for beating the scum villain to the punch on that front and now said piece of scum has the balls to try and take all the credit, huh?! Castration wasnāt enough at this point! Author! Get! On! That! Neutering!
Because Shen Yuan had been the one to burn that hell on earth to ashes. He knew damn well that Shen Qingqiu was nowhere to be seen. He would've noticed if there was some snobby, noble prick also called Shen visiting the manor because he probably would've had to serve the bastard! Forget his scalp, his whole body was going numb from the force of his anger. His blood bubbles in his veins and he has to pour all of his focus and experience into avoiding a qi deviation on the spot. He can't have one evil piece of shit Shen ruining things for the rest of them!
He sinks against the new stump he'd made and tries to breathe. It's harder than normal. His lungs burn and he catches the faintest whiff of smoke in the air. It's not really there, he knows. He's walked enough shaken children through these episodes to think through them himself. It's easier to think around the emotion rather than confront it head on.
Logically, walking into Huan Hua would be a stupid move. The kind that could throw him directly into the speeding bullet train of the actual plot, and worse, the stampeding path of one Post-Abyss Luo Binghe.
But he refuses to let his one moment of justiceātrue justiceābe steamrolled over and credited to the scum villain. He can't let his brother's memory be tainted like that. No way. The wold steadies in front of his eyes, perhaps recognizing his resolve? Or maybe heās just getting really good at avoiding qi deviations? Whatever. He's grateful all the same.
As soon as he got back to his camp he tore down and immediately changed course for Huan Hua Palace. Spite pushes his legs to go faster and his spiritual energy to flow stronger. He refuses to wait a single second longer.
And, privately, he has to wonder: if Shen Qingqiu had no hand in destroying the Qiusāand Shen Yuan knows he didn'tāthen what else could be be innocent of? It's an uncomfortable question. So he pretends he never asked it in the first place and scuffs the tracks into mental obscurity. Ultimately, it didn't matter. Not so long as he got his justice.
He has a few loose ends to tie upānamely making sure his most recent disciple doesn't try to follow him into this giant mess at Huan Huaābut then there is not a single thing in the world that could keep him from making a straight shot to the trial grounds.
The day of the trial comes like all the others for Shen Qingqiu. Cold, mostly. The churning acid of Huan Hua's water prison generates a humid breeze. It makes him sweat around his bindings which then only chilled him further. That he hadn't yet lost any fingers or toes is nothing short of a miracle. He knows someone will be coming to get him soon. He's not sure what he's expecting, really. Spears, armour, far too many small little men posturing in their boots to feel better about themselves, sure. Luo Binghe, though...is a surprise.
The beast smiles in a facsimile of politeness. "Shizun, it's time." A small station of guards in shining golden plate stand behind him. Naturally, only half of them brandish spears, though the rest thumb the hilts of their swords rather obviously.
If he were a smaller man, Shen Qingqiu might take this time to poke and prod and wheedle at the monster slathered in gold standing proudly in the room. As it is, he has already said all he ever intends to to Luo Binghe. He rolls to his feet, ignoring the burning stretch of his skin going taught. Minor acidic wounds that would close themselves up once the cables were gone. They wouldn't be an issue for much longer, so there's no use in paying them any attention now.
He knows his robes are filthy, but he refuses to feel the grime. Standing as tall as he ever did on Qing Jing, Shen Qingqiu walks right past the open blister masquerading as a human.
"Shizun, don't you have any final words for your disciple before we face the public court?" The blister says, following too close to Shen Qingqiu's heels as always. "Anything you'd like to say in private?"
The guards scatter like insects when Shen Qingqiu brushes past them. The floor is slick, pocked unnaturally from the excavation of these caves. It makes his bare feet ache as stray pebbles dig into his oozing burns. He comes to a stop just in the main hallway from his cell and turns an expectant eyebrow to the useless mob. Blank, dumb eyes stare back at him. Do they expect him to navigate Huan Hua's maze array on his own? It seems all it takes is empty posturing to get one's way in Huan Hua. No wonder, then, Luo Binghe has made such a comfortable home here.
Luo Binghe closes the cell with some careful attention to the rock face outside of it. "So impatient," he murmurs, clearly meaning to be heard even by un-enhanced ears. "Apologies to Shizun. This lowly one is your escort."
Shen Qingqiu looks over at the gathered mass of guards.
"They're curious," Luo Binghe answers the silent question, "it's not every day such an esteemed master is brought low."
"What a shame, then, for they are only an audience to one low creature, and it has yet to wear a face anywhere approaching an esteemed master." Shen Qingqiu says, mild as fresh tofu. It seems he still has more words for the open wound after all.
Despite his own spiritual veins being under tight lock and key, he could still feel a sharp pressure stab through the air of the cave. Flexing. How crude. It seems the little beast hadn't even managed to learn any tricks at all. Just more brute strength. Exactly what they needed in this over-muscled world. Scoffing, Shen Qingqiu turns to the only open patch of hall left to him and starts walking.
Footsteps clatter loudly in his wake, the guard quite literally tripping over themselves to keep up. Luo Binghe comes back to his side on silent feet. Smiling as warm as spoiled fruit on a summer's day. "Shizun is so wise," he says. "This lowly one must be impatient, too." Then, pitching his voice low, "all this unworthy one wants is two words from his Shizun. Just that, and this one will ensure all charges are dropped."
He simply can't help it. It's such an absurd lie there's no other way to respond to it. Shen Qingqiu throws back his head and laughs. Long and deep, scraping up every awful ache or pain up and out of himself along the way. He hasn't laughed so thoroughly since the fire. Since Shi-di.
The guards are bristling and palming their hilts with even more vigour but all Shen Qingqiu can be bothered with is the sight of Luo Binghe's clenched jaw. His laughter leaves him in a sigh. "How amusing. To think a mongrel would ever be content with so little. No, no, this master is well aware of what you're after, beast." The wretch had tried to keep it quiet even now, but Shen Qingqiu refuses to let the beast's shame go unheard. "Bone and blood from countless conquests that will never slake your thirst. You'll still be gnawing on dirt and wishing you were full. Nothing in this world will ever be enough, let alone two empty words from a master you despise. You, Luo Binghe, are beyond any hope of affection. That's just the kind of wretched animal you are."
No one stops him, so Shen Qingqiu keeps walking. Without shoes, it's no wonder the slick ground jerks out from underneath him. Arms bound tight behind him, he braces for impact, and is yanked short by a hand with too-sharp nails closing around his shoulder.
Luo Binghe, still smiling, has a death grip around his arm. "Careful, Shizun. We wouldn't want anyone to fall."
Shen Qingqiu tugs at his arm but there is no give in the beast's grip. He's pulled, bodily, back the other way down the hall. He chuckles to himself. There you go, wretch, keep on gnawing.
"This way, Shizun. The trial is about to begin. It would be shameful to be late."
