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[My BingQiu piece for the BingYuan servers one year anniversary! Tags and summary can be found on AO3. Please enjoy <3]

The Old Palace Master was preparing for a celebration.

As one of the most powerful men of his time, the Old Palace Master was never shy with showing off his wealth. Countless parties had been held in his name, decorated with gold and jewels, packed with bountiful feasts, entertainment from only the most talented of performers and with guest lists reaching the thousands. Nothing was too pricey when the Old Palace Master wished to declare to the world just how powerful and generous a man he could be.

That's why this celebration was so strange. Yes, mouthwatering meals were still prepared. Yes, ornaments and ribbons were put up in his room. Yes, pets and toys were gathered to be played with. But not a single soul had been invited to delight in the celebration with him.

In his own words the occasion was called an anniversary.

An anniversary for what? No one could say.

By this point, Luo Binghe had been part of the Huan Hua palace for about three months. In those three months he had quickly climbed the ranks of the palace. Not quite taking the spot as head disciple from Gongyo Xiao, but still often called upon by the Old Palace Master to share his opinion in an important matter or to take on a task of the highest responsibility.

It took Luo Binghe almost four years to escape the Endless Abyss. After digging himself through hell, a swamp of blood and guts, filled to the brim with monsters as horrific as calamities and natural disasters constantly raining down, Luo Binghe found his way out. With Xin Mo in hand he carved a slice in space itself and found himself surrounded by the shade of greenery he had not seen for years, birds and critters peacefully stirring beside him.

That is where he was found by disciples from Huan Hua palace. They brought him back to their home, nursed him back to health and soon after took him in as their own.

This was the perfect opportunity. By establishing his place within Huan Hua he would prove to his Shizun that he could become a respectable cultivator. With the aim of one day taking over the sect, he would show Shen Qingqiu his error in judgement and what Luo Binghe was capable of despite the sins of his blood.

He would prove himself an equal of his master, leaving Shizun no choice but take him back to his side.

Or he would, if Shen Qingqiu hadn't disappeared without a trace nine months before Luo Binghe slithered out of the Abyss.

During his months at Huan Hua Palace, it did not take Luo Binghe long to be caught up on what had happened in his absence. And most noticeable of all, at least to him, was the entire debacle of what had happened in Jin Lan City about a year ago.

A terrible plague had befell the city. After multiple attempts from Zhao Hua Monastery to solve it themselves, they had reached out to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect for help.

Shen Qingqiu, together with Liu Qingge and Mu Qingfang, had gone to the city to investigate the case. After being told about the plague, they had soon discovered it to actually be the cause of demons. More precisely, Sower demons. One would think the solution would be easily reached after that. But for whatever reason, everything had turned horribly wrong thereafter.

First accusations of colliding with the demons followed by the woman Qiu Haitang claiming Shen Qingqiu had slaughtered her entire family. With so many charges piling up, a trial had been demanded and Shen Qingqiu became locked away in the Huan Hua Palace water prison.

Once again, the story should have been simple. Shen Qingqiu would have gone to trial, be declared guilty or innocent and repercussions would have followed.

But who could have known that not even past the two week mark, Shen Qingqiu would disappear without a trace?

From one day to another Shen Qingqiu were nowhere to be found within the water prison. No clue left behind of how he got out. Not a single soul having witnessed his disappearance. It was almost like Shen Qingqiu had never been in the prison to begin with.

Shen Qingqiu's vanishing act almost started a war between Cang Qiong Mountain Sect and Huan Hua Palace. Huan Hua accused the peak lords of breaking Shen Qingqiu out of the water prison and hiding him away on their mountain. Meanwhile, Cang Qiong Mountain Sect accused the Old Palace Master of taking Shen Qingqiu away before his trial. The accusations had been so serious that the other sects had to step in and do a thorough investigation of both places for any sign of Shen Qingqiu.

The investigations lead to absolutely nothing. Shen Qingqiu was nowhere to be found and the two sects could only silently keep the peace.

Among the people, the most popular theory was that Shen Qingqiu had simply escaped on his own. Unable to accept his guilt, Shen Qingqiu had found a way out and then ran as far away as possible to avoid the consequences of his actions. Really, to many, Shen Qingqiu disappearing as he did was basically seen as his admission of guilt.

Luo Binghe certainly knew that his Shizun had the ability to not be found if he didn't want to be. If anyone could break out of the water prison, it would certainly be him. What his master likely didn't account for, though, was Luo Binghe himself.

Wherever it was his Shizun had run off to, wherever he had hidden, Luo Binghe would find him. No matter the size of the hole his Shizun had crawled into, Luo Binghe would locate it. No matter how much Shen Qingqiu would run away or fight him, Luo Binghe would drag him out, bring him back and force him to witness his rise as a righteous cultivator.

After first hearing about Shen Qingqiu's disappearance, Luo Binghe had immediately started his search for the man. The world may be wide, but not enough to stay hidden from a heavenly demon.

Luo Binghe had been quick to build a network of eyes and ears to catch any sign of Shen Qingqiu's presence. Every time he left Huan Hua Palace, with every mission that required interaction with the people, his spiderweb of information would broaden, each silken thread waiting for the Qing Jing Peak Lord to step into it.

So far, it had led to absolutely nothing. Shen Qingqiu was nowhere to be found and Luo Binghe could only silently wait with patience.

Time continued to pass in Huan Hua Palace. The day for the Old Palace Master's mysterious private anniversary came upon them. Luo Binghe, as well as every other inhabitant of the palace, had nothing special on this day and so there was otherwise nothing unusual going on.

That's why, even Luo Binghe was surprised when Gongyi Xiao personally came to tell him that the Old Palace Master had asked for him to join him during dinner.

Luo Binghe had no reason to reject the invitation. So after taking care of his responsibilities for the day, he went back to his room to prepare himself for the evening.

Putting on some of his finer robes and taking great care to groom his hair, Luo Binghe is the ideal example of an honorable cultivator. His red and black clothes are as elegant as they are intimidating, his long and curly hair soft as silk, falling like waves against his back.

With the short warning, Luo Binghe didn't have much time to prepare a congratulations gift (Not made easier by not knowing what is being congratulated), but being ever crafty, he found some rare artifacts gained from a mission that are appropriate to gift to the huan Hua Palace master.

With no other invited to the celebration there is no one to lead Luo Binghe to the Old Palace Masters private quarters. Of course it is no issue for Luo Binghe to find the way on his own and he walks at a smooth pace until he reaches the gilded doors. Pushing them open himself, he is met with a room decorated to lavish proportions.

Like everywhere else in the palace, gold is the main color of the room. Every piece of furniture, decorations hanging from the walls, the plates, cups and cutlery, everywhere one looks, a shine of wealth looks back. When entering the room, Luo Binghe is instantly met with a choir of a hundred birds hanging from golden cages in the ceiling. Not two of the same bird can be seen above and still, they must have been chosen with care, as not a single note is out of tune in their harmonious song.

The Old Palace Master stands at the end of the long table, dressed as finely as if this was a public celebration for the gods. Without fanfare, he invites Luo Binghe to sit at his side to the right. The food and drink have already been put forward so they can enjoy the meal without disturbance.

There is enough food to feed multiple villages for weeks and each dish has been prepared with the utmost expertise. Meats that melt on the tongue, vegetables and fruits so fresh as if they were just harvested, sauces heavy and full of taste, rice perfectly fluffy and white. Multiple pastries have been made for dessert, each with elaborate decorations, while wine for every taste stands ready to be poured into their cups.

The Old Palace Master does not wait to pour as they take their seats. They both fill their plates from the vast selection. After waiting for the Old Palace Master to start their meal, Luo Binghe takes his first bite.

It is absolutely exquisite.

Nowhere as good as Luo Binghe's own cooking, though.

Throughout the meal, The Old Palace Master gives no hint towards what they are meant to be celebrating. For conversation he asks into Luo Binghe's wellbeing and compliments his successes with every mission and task he has been given. He speaks of the state of Huan Hua Palace, discusses recent politics of the great sects and once in a while hints towards giving Luo Binghe the position as head disciple once he has had more time to adjust. Even when offered Luo binghe's gift, he simply accepts it with a smile, commenting on the fine artistry and quality of the artifact.

All the while he makes certain neither of their cups hold their refreshing liquid for long and that afterwards they are quickly filled up again.

As the evening progresses, there is a subtle, but noticeable effect on the Old Palace Master as the alcohol does it work. His tone becomes more smooth and the words he speaks more direct and crude when it is about the other sects.

Luo Binghe himself is not immune to the effect of the wine. But he has found that if he so wishes, he can use his blood mites to turn himself from drunk to sober at a moment's notice. For this, he allows himself to become slightly intoxicated, just enough to let it affect his voice and imbalance his movement. He does not allow it to affect him any further.

It pays off. As they reach the dessert, the Old Palace Master having just plated two petite pastries on his plate, he begins a conversation subject that Luo Binghe always has interest in.

"Luo Binghe, I believe this is the third month you have spent here in my humble palace. I will not ask you how you have settled in because I can see with my own eyes that you fit in as if you were always raised within these walls."

Luo Binghe simply nods at his words. He himself has selected a single pastry, delicately topped with sweet green powder and tenderly painted leaves. He has yet to take a bite, waiting to see what the Old Palace Master is trying to get at.

"Yet, as well as you have settled into your role here at Huan Hua Palace, it has not slipped my notice how you have been asking around for your old master. It must have been a while since you two last met and still, you have set many wheels in motion trying to trace that Shizun of yours. Am I wrong?"

"Zhangman is not wrong in what he says. I simply wish to speak to my Shizun and reminisce about the past after a long time apart," Luo Binghe easily agrees. He sees no reason to deny the words as he knows he hasn't been discreet in his search.

"I see," The Old Palace Master hums, nodding along. There is a strange look in his eyes, one clearly telling just what kind of reminiscence he assumes Luo Binghe means. Luo Binghe feels no need to correct him.

The conversations go quiet for a moment as they eat their pastries. While wiping the sugar of his hands with a gold laced handkerchief, the Old Palace Master speaks again.

"And in this search of yours, have you found any sign of where your Shizun could be quelling?" He asks, not even bothering to look at Luo Binghe. As if he is only asking for politeness sake.

Luo Binghe's mouth thins into a line. He does not wish to admit to any kind of defeat in front of this man. His visage as a cultivator of the greatest skill and talent can't be muddied in any way, lest he loses the Old Palace Masters favoritism. But he knows lies in this case would be easily disproven and would have heavier repercussions.

Luo Binghe picks up his glass of wine, looking into the murky liquid without taking a sip. His own face of unhappiness stares back at him from the cup.

"Sadly I have not managed to find a single trace of my Shizun. But I know it is only a matter of time. As long as he is out there in the world, there will be someone who will take note of him."

The Old Palace Master hums, having picked up his own golden glass. Swirling the liquid around, he speaks almost lazily as he says his next words:

"What would you then say if this old master told you that I am the reason for your Shizun's disappearance?"

Luo Binghe stills. The expression of shock mirrored in his glass lasts for less than a second. He looks up, his mouth not quite ready to form words before the Old Palace Master continues.

"What would you say if I told you that today is the one year anniversary since I got rid of the Qing Jing Peak Master himself?"

Total silence takes over the room. It is as if the birds themselves have felt the tension in the air, all having gone quiet. The Old Palace Master and Luo Binghe have their eyes locked, neither blinking or looking away for even a second. For a moment, no one speaks, no one moves. They both mirror each other, holding their cups of wine, as thousands of thoughts rush through Luo Binghe's head.

Slowly, calmly, Luo Binghe turns his face back towards the table. Perfectly sober, he puts down his cup. Wipes his fingers. Adjust his chopsticks so they are perfectly aligned. Then he turns towards the Old Palace Master with an expression of pure innocence and confusion.

"Just what does Zhangman mean?" He asks.

The Old Palace Master smiles. He pushes his chair back, stepping away from the table.

"Come with me. I will show you where your Shizun has been all this time."

Luo Binghe follows as he is let deeper into The Old Palace Master's private quarters. Even with the older man having his back to him, Luo Binghe does not risk letting his true expression show. What he is about to see will have major consequences for the future of Huan Hua Palace.

They pass what Luo Binghe knows to be The Old Palace Master's bedroom, his private bath, his weaponry and many more rooms still. Deeper and deeper they go until they reach the part of the quarters that even Luo Binghe hasn't dared to disturb, too enchanted by spells and charms to enter unnoticeable.

That is when The Old Palace Master leads Luo Binghe into a room full of such rare relics and artifacts that Luo Binghe finds himself astonished.

Most he does not know, but can simply feel the overwhelming energy coming from them. A few he recognizes from his Shizuns teaching such as The Mirror of Seven Hells and The Blood Pearl of the Ocean Sky. But out of all the items in the room, powerful and wondrous, The Old Palace Master leads Luo Binghe to a simple object with not a speck of qi coming from it.

It appears as a mix between a crystal incense burner and a porcelain teapot. Thin grooves are carved at the top too thin for the incense to drift out, while the spout protrudes awkwardly and crooked, making it unusable for either use. It is about the size of a hand, but does look as if it would be heavy to hold.

The Old Palace Master has a serene smile on his face as he looks at the artifact. Allowing Luo Binghe a moment to admire it, he soon turns towards the younger man.

"Have you ever heard of The Prison of Revolt before?" He asks, though his tone reveals that he already suspects what the answer is. He is right, as Luo Binghe can only shake his head.

"No, I have never heard that name. I have never even seen anything like this," Luo Binghe admits. The Old Palace Master laughs, though not cruelly, at Luo Binghe's ignorance.

"That makes me glad to hear. This artifact has been in Huan Hua possession for generations, its existence a secret only known by the masters of this sect. Not a single soul besides me, and now you, knows of it. If you have never heard of it, I assume you also do not know its story?"

Once again Luo Binghe shakes his head and The Old Palace Master takes that opening as his invitation to tell the artifacts history.

"In ages past, long before any of the great sects we know today were established, there was a terrible war between a cultivator and demon, whose names have long been lost to time. As would be expected, the cultivator fought to protect the people against the corrupting forces of demons, his power and abilities no match for the mongrels that fill the demon realm.

But during this great war there was one demon above the masses who could oppose the cultivator. After a particular terrible loss, the demon swore revenge, promising to make the cultivator regret his actions. The cultivator didn't take the demon's warning seriously and dismissed his promise. But during a time when the burden of protecting the human realm was most heavy, the demon saw its chance.

One day when the cultivator had the rare opportunity to return to his home, he found his entire village ransacked. His wife and children had been split open, their rotting corpses staked at the entrance to the village. The parents of his and his wife had been hung by their grandchildren's entrails while their servants all had their hands and feet chopped off. Every inhabitant in the village had been killed, each death more brutal than the last. Even people who were almost strangers to the cultivator, people who he had only ever shared a polite word with, became victims of the demon's wrath.

The entire village had been torn apart. The only unbroken object the cultivator was able to find was an old ceramic pot that had been made by his very own grandfather.

Just like the demon had after its loss in the war, the cultivator swore revenge. He disappeared for many years, gone to a place where no one could find him. Many thought he had gone crazy with grief and ran away. For those years the demons freely terrorized the human realm. After fifty years of demonic terror, the cultivator finally returned. The only thing brought with him, this very artifact."

The Old Palace Master signals towards the amalgamation of incense burner and teapot.

"For fifty years the cultivator had enchanted The Prison of Revolt with spells and cantrips of illusion. For fifty years he carved his very anger and rage and wrath into this very object until it was a relic of such dark sorcery that no power could dispel it. And it was with this object that he captured the very demon who had taken the life of his family and everyone he held dear."

As the Old Palace Master prattles on about ages past, Luo Binghe's patience thins. He could not care much less for what he is being told. Whatever power the master describes this artifact having, none of it can be felt as Luo Binghe stands before it. This could be any old device found in the back of some trink store, nothing about it worthy of notice except its bad handcraft. Still, Luo Binghe listens intently to what The Old Palace Master says, waiting for any hint of his Shizun's whereabouts to become revealed.

"One hour. The cultivator only kept the demon captured in this artifact for one hour. Then he let it out. And do you know what was the demon's first course of action after gaining his freedom?" The Old Palace Master asks, but, in his eagerness, does not wait for Luo Binghe to answer. "He killed himself. He grabbed the nearest sword and slit his own throat. And with that, the war between the cultivators and the demons ended with us celebrating victory once again."

A manic glint has entered The Old Palace Masters face as he looks towards the artifact. Having told its story to fullness, it is like he can not take his eyes off the object. That out of every treasure that this room contains, this one holds a power none of the others could ever compare to. With a single hand, he reaches out to caress the crystal and porcelain, like a pair of lovers would caress each other after a night spent together.

"You see, what the cultivator created was a prison. A prison that does no harm towards its captive, but punishes those caught inside of it with other means. Some would call it torture. Others retribution. But what it does is create a world of pure agony and suffering. A hellish world of misery that could not even be rivalled with that of The Heavenly Abyss. The only drawback being the fact it can only hold one prisoner at a time. And do you know what its most magnificent trick is?"

Here he pauses, though not with a silence that awaits an answer. The Old Palace Master has made it clear the story is for him to tell and for Luo Binghe to listen. The horror of the tale does not seem to lessen his excitement as he describes the terrible power of this artifact.

"To the inhabitant of this very artifact, a simple hour in our world feels like that of a year to those inside."

Slowly, as The Old Palace Master finishes his speech, a buzzing has been filling Luo Binghe's head. With each word, Luo Binghe is able to put more and more of the story together. Understanding what is truly being said between old stories and magical artifacts.

Like this, the horror that has begun to strangle Luo Binghe's heart tightens its grip, until his entire chest is crushed by its hand. When The Old Palace Master says his final words, his final terrible, horrible words, Luo Binghe is doing everything in his power not to reveal his ancestry right here and now.

"Today marks the exact date for the one year anniversary of when I went down to the Water Prisons to capture Shen Qingqiu inside this very artifact."

With a pop, the buzzing stops all at once. Luo Binghe is able to hear again with perfect clarity. Thanks to The Old Palace Masters focus on The Prison of Revolt, he does not see the red that has bled into Luo binghe's eyes. His claws dig into his skin, droplets of blood dripping from his fists. Just barely, Luo Binghe manages to control his voice, so he still sound perfectly steady when he speaks:

"So you are saying that Shizun is still inside of it?"

"Of course he is! It is impossible for him to have escaped unless someone were to let him out! Since I have had no reason to do so, that is where he has been kept all this time."

The Old Palace Master laugh as he speaks. It speaks to Luo Binghe's selfcontrol that he does not sense the dark intent growing at his back, attention still fully on the artifact. No matter how much death and destruction and murder Luo Binghe wants to commit this very moment, he has to reel it in. Just long enough to gain all the information he needs.

"And would it be possible to... say... visit him inside the artifact?"

The Old Palace Master turns at Luo Binghe's question. Staring at him in silence for a moment, a lazy smirk spreads across his face. He waves towards The Prison of Revolt with his sleeves in a go-ahead gesture.

"Sure, it is possible for you to give him a visit. Though I don't know how much you will gain from it. After seeing him a couple of times the first few days of his capture, I have not visited him once. I would be quite surprised if there were any resemblance left of the Qing Jing Peak Lord in the man after all these years."

From underneath the incense teapot, The Old Palace Master digs up what looks like a shard of pottery on a string. He hands it to Luo Binghe.

"As long as you wear this, nothing inside of that world can hurt you. You will simply be like that of a spectator of the happenings inside. Though you can still interact with your Shizun however you wish. Just don't be surprised if he doesn't recognize you after all these years."

With these words, The Old Palace Master makes to leave. Leaving a single incense stick to slowly burn down, he is about to let Luo Binghe be alone with The Prison of Revolt. Right before he steps out of the room, he turns back with one final remark.

"Do be careful about letting him touch you. As long as you wear that, he could use you to escape. So remember to keep your distance."

And with that, The Old Palace Master has left.

In a room full of priceless artifacts, Luo Binghe stands in the middle. He silently observes The Prison of Revolt. The handcraft isn't pretty or particularly skillful. The mix of porcelain and crystal doesn't fit together, overlapping in awkward ways. Had an apprentice dared to show such a work to their master, they would surely have been thrown out and the artifact discarded. A waste of materials and time and craftsmanship.

Part of Luo Binghe doesn't truly believe The Old Palace Masters words. He wonders if this is some kind of test, a way to prove his loyalty. That one wrong move would ruin all the work he has put in to assimilate with Huan Hua Palace, keeping them none the wiser of what his true intentions are.

Part of him simply can't believe his Shizun would ever get caught in such a way.

The incense stick trickles down. Luo Binghe reaches out his hand. Once he feels the cool touch of the artifact against his skin, he carefully pushes the slightest of qi into it.

In an instant the world around him changes.

One moment Luo Binghe is deep in the quarters of The Old Palace Masters treasury.

The next he finds his feet hitting soft sands as he finds himself in an empty desert that stretches on for miles.

Luo Binghe looks around. There is an unruly wind, a cloud of sand thick enough that it is limited how far Luo Binghe can see. The land before him is flat, not a single rock or hill to mark where he is. The sun beats down on him from above, but while he can feel the heat, it is not to an unbearable degree.

He looks down at the ceramic piece around his neck. It feels cool to his touch. He remembers The Old Palace Master's words of how nothing in this world can hurt him as long as he wears this piece. He wonders if that also counts for protecting him against the burning rays of the sun.

Luo Binghe has no choice but to go forward. With no landmarks to guide him, he can only hope to stumble upon any hint of where to go. The sand whistles around him, blowing back his hair, but at no point does the grains irritate his eyes or scratch at his skin. It is like he is caught in a mild storm going out of its way to do no harm.

The Old Palace Master said that time in this world flows differently, but to Luo Binghe it feels the same. He keeps walking in this empty desert, nothing around him changing. No sign of anything living in this place.

Again his thoughts of The Old Palace Master testing him return. The Master said The Prison of Revolt were capable of creating a world of endless torture and torment, but Luo Binghe sees nothing of the like. He said even the Endless Abyss couldn't measure with the suffering this world could cause, but Luo Binghe sees nothing that compares to that hell.

In the four years since Luo Binghe's Shizun pushed him down the Abyss, Luo Binghe has truly learned what agony is. The pain of fighting for your life every moment combined with the misery of betrayal... A silent desert like this is a relaxed stroll comparably.

With each step Luo Binghe takes he becomes more and more certain The Old Palace Master has tricked him. That Luo Binghe has failed whatever test this is meant to be. He begins to think of justifications, ways to explain his actions and salvage whatever verdict The Old Palace Master will put upon him. He does not panic or the like, having full confidence in his ability to charm and talk himself out of any trouble. The Old Palace Master has doted on him since his arrival at Huan Hua Palace and while Luo Binghe doesn't know the reason for his favor, he can use it to-

A disturbed mound of sand.

In front of Luo Binghe is a mound of sand, undoubtedly turned over by human hands.

It is the first thing Luo Binghe has stumbled upon in this place that is any different. The sand has clearly been dug up and then pushed back together, darkened grains laying on the top. There are no identifying items around the mound, no sign or tools to hint at what it can be. There is no need to.

The mound is the perfect size for a grave.

Luo Binghe stares with unblinking eyes. In his mind multiple calculations happen, the comparison of memories from 4 years past, changes that could have happened in that time and the dimensions of what he is looking at.

This is not proof. Luo Binghe makes the wilful decision that this is not proof. There are thousands of explanations that could exist for the existence of this simple mound. There is no reason to rush to some premature assumption based on next to nothing evidence.

The grains are soft in Luo Binghe's hand as he begins to dig away the sand. The sun is warm against his neck, the ground sinking slightly underneath his knees, as he removes the sand one handful at a time. With how easy it is to dig through, he would assume the mound was recently made, the sand having yet to fully settle.

As he digs, throwing the sand to the side, he wonders again if this is a test from The Old Palace Master. Luo Binghe feels ashamed with how quickly he let the old man get into his head. He knows he is not to be trusted, every word filled with wellhidden ill intent. Even if the poison has never been directed towards Luo Binghe, he is still smart enough to keep an eye on any beverages offered.

Shizun's disappearance might have just been a tool for the Huan Hua Palace master to test Luo Binghe's dedication. Test where his loyalties truly lie. Luo Binghe will have to be careful with how he acts, not seeming overly desperate to find Shen Qingqiu. Keeping control of himself is a skill he mastered years ago and he is confident in his ability to act indifferent when needed and-

There is a cloth in the mound. As he has been digging, his hand is suddenly caught, fabric wrapping around it. He lifts the scrappy piece up until he can see it in full.

With piercing realization, he feels his heart stop in his chest.

The cloth is almost transparent with age. It is only thanks to the mound protecting it from the sun that any color is left, a faded green hue. On the edge of the cloth, thin embroidery of bamboo stalks are still visible.

For a moment, Luo Binghe is no longer in this abandoned desert. Instead he finds himself years back, back before pain and misery and betrayal took over his every waking thought, back when he was still a disciple, happy, in his Shizun's care. When he was living in the bamboo house, able to watch out his master with affection, doing his best to take care of his every need.

He remembers one such day, when he would bring his Shizun's laundry to personally wash, keeping it clean with careful attention so as to not ruin its high quality.

It was on one such day that he would be washing Shizun's robes, taking notice of the delicate bamboo embroidery decorating one of them.

It may have been over 4 years. But if there is one thing Luo Binghe trusts not to fail him, then it is his own memory.

His breath is caught in his chest as his hands dig into the grave below him. The handfuls of sand he would remove before are nothing compared to the piles he now throws to the side. He never lets go of the cloth, his grasp tight as looks for its owner.

His body is filled with terror as he can only imagine in what state he will find his Shizun in. How late is he? Will it be a fresh and recognizable corpse that he can bring with him back? Will it be a rotting carcass, flesh and meat falling off, misshapen and decayed? Or will only the bones be left to be dug up, unrecognizable in who they belonged to if not for a single piece of fabric to hint of their owner?

The Old Palace Master said an hour in their world was like that of a year in here. And his Shizun has been captured in this place for one full year.

Is there even anything left of Shen Qingqiu for Luo Binghe to find?

Luo Binghe doesn't know for how long he continues to dig out this grave. Time stopped to matter once he found his Shizun's robe. He digs for long enough that his fingers would splinter with the effort and his neck would burn from the sun. Sand should scratch against his skin and blind his eyes. It is either thanks to his heavenly demon blood or the piece of ceramic around his neck that no damage is done to his body.

Time doesn't matter and Luo Binghe continues to dig. In the end it is not for lack of physical energy that makes him stop. It is his mind that has lost its strength.

By now, the grave is deep enough to reach his head. He sits at the bottom, in cover from the wind, though the sunrays fall upon him from straight above. Here he sits helplessly, his robes and hands covered in dark sand as there are no remains to be found.

For all that Luo Binghe knows he is covered by Shen Qingqiu himself, his shizun's bones having turned to dust long ago. That this is the closest to a last embrace Luo Binghe will ever get from Shen Qingqiu.

Four years ago, Shen Qingqiu pushed Luo Binghe down into the Endless Abyss. Luo Binghe survived the fall, but doing so meant he had to face the knowledge that his Shizun had abandoned him. Betrayed him. That day he had cried tears of anguish until his wails had attracted nearby monsters. That day began his fight for survival that lasted almost four years before he escaped. And in all that time, he did not allow himself to shed a single tear before he returned to his Shizun.

Now, it is just like that day. Tears spill forth from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks in heavy streams, soiling his robes. His breath is weak, barely able to get past the ice cold block in his throat. He wonders if he should simply stay here, lay down in the grave and wait for time to push the sand upon him until he is properly buried.

He won't. Not yet. There are people he will have to avenge in his Shizun's name. People who will have to pay the price for the loss of the most significant man that Luo Binghe has ever known.

The Old Palace Master for doing this. The entire Huan Hua Palace for hosting the man who did this. Cang Qiong Sect for being unable to protect those they claim as their own. The other great sects in their failure in finding out the truth. The rest of the world for allowing this injustice to take place.

Luo Binghe for failing to escape the Endless Abyss sooner and keep this misfortune from happening.

Yes, Luo Binghe does not have the time to die just yet. He has plans to make, actions to take, people to kill in slow, astonishing ways. He does not deserve the honor of grieving his Shizun when he wasn't even there for him when he was taken. He will only allow himself to take his revenge on the world before he finishes with his own punishment.

He needs to find The Old Palace Master. He likely isn't far. He wonders how long he can drag it out before the man begs for his death. He wonders how much longer until he gives up on the begging. In the Endless Abyss Luo Binghe learned how merciless the world can be and he is certain that the mercilessness he can inflict upon The Old Palace Master is tenfold of what he-

"Hmm... hmm... hmm..."

Luo Binghe stills. In the silence, he picks up the weakest of voices, barely audible to even heavenly demon ears. With the neverending wind it is a wonder he is even able to pick up anything at all, the sound easily drowned out by the smallest noise.

It somewhat sounds like someone is humming.

His mind is blank. There is not a single thought. There is nothing going on in his head as he climbs out of the grave and begins to follow the sound.

It is hard to track the voice, the rustle of his robes enough to drown out the sound. Every time the wind picks up he has to stop, heart filled with fear that the sound will be gone once the wind calms down again. It breaks up in strange patterns, no coherency or logic, but the humming continues in broken tones.

As Luo Binghe continues forward, the sound grows louder. With each step, the strange hum becomes stronger, clearer, easier to follow. Like a guiding siren it leads Luo Binghe towards its source, something dangerously close to hope keeping a chokehold around his heart.

Finally, Luo Binghe sees a shape in the distance.

He barely remembers to breathe as he takes a shaky, hesitant step forward. It could be a pile of rocks or a strange boulder, but as he gets closer, he swears he sees it move.

Luo Binghe stops. In front of him sits a person.

They have their back to him. Sitting cross legged on the sand, they gently sway back and forth, a strange beat to their humming. Their long black hair falls along their back, visible not having been combed for years. Their robes are completely colorless, the sun and weather having worn out the fabric for a very long time.

Slowly Luo Binghe moves around the figure until he is facing them.

Growing up, Luo Binghe's Shizun was always very hard to read. Often he would hide his facial expressions behind a fan, keeping a facade of an elegant and stoic cultivator. As the Qing Jing Peak Lord he had his duties to keep, not allowing many to see past his lofty walls.

It is only thanks to Luo Binghe moving into the bamboo house that he was able to peek past those high walls. The smallest gestures such as the raise of an eyebrow or flush of skin. With the years, Luo Binghe learned his Shizun actually has a very thin face and is surprisingly easy to understand. One just has to know what to look for.

The kind of blank face his Shizun makes to hide his inner thoughts is in no way similar to his blank face now. Eyes empty as they stare forward, not a shred of awareness or even recognition when Luo Binghe stands in front of him.

Shen Qingqiu looks wretched. Starvation is clear in his halfsunken cheeks and thin wrists. His eyes are halflidded, no glow of the intelligence or humor that Luo Binghe would usually see. The way he wears his robes is nothing like the proud cultivator Luo binghe remembers, instead falling loose around his shoulders in a way not even the laziest of disciples would wear. Even the hum is broken, no sense or rhyme in the melody, going up and down in tone as if Luo Binghe's Shizun has even forgotten how to sing.

With a broken sob, Luo Binghe falls to his knees.

Here he is. Luo Binghe's Shizun. He has finally found him.

Luo Binghe remembers Shen Qingqiu as a very strong and willful man. But even he is not immune to thousands of years of torture and suffering.

Back in the grave Luo Binghe did not allow himself to cry out loud, keeping his tears silent in his grief. He thought his Shizun dead, with not even a body to recover. The thought that he had been too late to save Shen Qingqiu had broken Luo Binghe inside.

The pain he feels now is nothing like that. His Shizun is in front of him, but his mind and soul are broken to pieces. Luo Binghe could have prevented this. If he had been less weak, less useless, he could have gotten out of the Abyss sooner. Just one year earlier and he would have been able to defend Shen Qingqiu against the terrible accusations that landed him in the water prison. He could have kept this from ever happening. Each day since what happened in Jin Lan City is Luo Binghe's responsibility. Each day he didn't escape the Endless Abyss is his failure. The Shen Qingqiu that faces him now is all Luo Binghe's fault and before today he didn't even know.

Luo Binghe wanted to prove to Shen Qingqiu that he had become a righteous cultivator. Yes, he was angry. Yes, he felt betrayed. But even in his darkest moments, when fury and rage took over his every thought, this was never what he wanted for his Shizun. He wanted Shen Qingqiu to regret pushing Luo Binghe into the Abyss. He didn't want him to suffer for it.

In the grave, Luo Binghe swore revenge. But can you avenge someone who isn't dead? If anything, this truly feels like it is all Luo Binghe's fault.

He failed his Shizun. And now... now Luo Binghe has no idea what to do.

In front of Shen Qingqiu's unseeing eyes, Luo Binghe can only weep. Weep with tears that do not dry out, his voice ugly with regret and despair. Luo Binghe once overheard one of the Huan Hua disciples wonder if Luo Binghe was a pretty crier. Here, in an empty and cold desert, there is nothing pretty about Luo Binghe as he breaks down, voice hoarse as he screams out his misery.

Shen Qingqiu does not react. As Luo Binghe breaks apart in front of him, he simply continues his uneven hum, his gentle sway back and forth.

The sun stays in the sky. The sand stays on the ground. The breeze of the wind sweeps back both of their hair.

Shen Qingqiu's eyes move.

It takes a moment before Luo Binghe realizes. His Shizun is so still besides the swaying and not even his head moves as he looks down. But Luo Binghe sees it. Shen Qingqiu is looking at something.

Following his gaze, Luo Binghe sees the piece of green robe he forgot he still held in his hand.

Compared to what Shen Qingqiu is wearing now, the faded green of the cloth almost appears colorful. It blows with the wind, almost resembling the movement of bamboo back on Qing Jing Peak during stormier weather. Though much more weak and pitiful than the strong stalks of the bamboo forest back home.

But it is enough to catch Shen Qingqiu's eyes. And not knowing what else to do, Luo Binghe carefully reaches forward with his hand until the cloth touches Shen Qingqiu's skin.

At first there is no reaction. But then clumsily and slow, as if he is no longer used to moving his body, Shen Qingqiu grasps it with weak fingers.

His humming has stopped. He is no longer swaying. But as Shen Qingqiu sluggishly rubs the robe with his thumb, Luo Binghe sees the first sign of life within his Shizun's eyes. There is wonder. There is curiosity.

There is Shen Qingqiu.

Like this, as Shen Qingqiu and Luo binghe are connected by a single piece of robe held in their hands, Luo Binghe makes a new promise. A promise that he will never give up on his Shizun. A promise, that no matter how long it takes, he will return Shen Qingqiu back to his former self. A promise of dedication and servitude and that he will stay by Shen Qingqiu's side even if it takes even more thousands of years before he is whole and healthy again.

As Shen Qingqiu experiences marvel at the simple touch of a cloth, Luo Binghe swears that he will not let any more suffering befall his Shizun ever again.

He swears it on his life.

[Timeskip with link to Gaya's artwork here]

The stick of incense has not moved a millimeter when Luo Binghe returns to The Old Palace Masters champers, Shen Qingqiu held gently in his arms. He has taken off his outer robe to wrap his Shizun in, to hide him, but also to keep his weak body warm.

Shen Qingqiu did not react to Luo Binghe's touch nor at being moved, but neither have he let go of the bamboo robe since Luo Binghe gave it to him. Still, just in case, Luo Binghe has gently pushed him into a dreamless sleep, not risking any distress for his Shizun as they make their escape.

Luo Binghe has decided that they must run away from Huan Hua Palace. He would go and kill The Old Palace Master as the first thing upon his return, but he dares not leave Shen Qingqiu alone and refuses to allow him within the presence of that man. Of course, The Old Palace Master will not react well once he finds out Luo Binghe has released Shen Qingqiu, so they have to disappear from this place.

Luo Binghe's mind runs a mile a minute as he considers all the options they have.

He refuses to return to the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. They already failed to protect his Shizun when it truly mattered and they do not deserve a second chance. That does not leave many other places, but in truth, that is for the best.

Their best option is to just vanish. Vanish like Shen Qingqiu did a year ago, except now he will be safe with Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe will have to find a place away from everything, cultivation, the great sects, anyone and anything that could recognize Shen Qingqiu and try to take him away. He will have to find a place of nowhere, where he can settle down with his Shizun and spend the rest of their days nursing him back to health.

They have one advantage. While The Old Palace Master will know that Shen Qingqiu has been released, he can never let anyone else know. He said so himself that no one, besides him and Luo Binghe, knew of The Prison of Revolt. There is no way he can start a chase for Shen Qingqiu without revealing the crime he has committed. His only option is to target Luo Binghe himself.

Luo Binghe has great confidence in his abilities to avoid the Huan Hua Palace Master. He has no doubt that the loyalties he has gained greatly outweighs The Old Palace Master's resources. Even if someone is to notice, none of them will dare to open their mouths.

Of that, Luo Binghe is certain.

Carefully, doing his best not to justle Shen Qingqiu in his arms, he makes it back to his room. Luckily, the dinner with The Old Palace Master lasted until late evening, so only disciples doing patrols are still awake. They are easy to avoid as Luo Binghe has already memorised their patterns.

He quickly locks his door once in his room, gently putting Shen Qingqiu down on his bed. His Shizun sleeps on, breathing light and unburdened, until someone could almost forget the torture he has gone through. If not for his unruly hair and scrappy clothing, this could just be any other night in the bamboo house.

Luo Binghe allows himself to tuck a lock of hair away from his Shizun's face. And then he turns around, packing his things as fast as he can.

There is nothing here he keeps for sentimental value, but he will need all the resources he has for when they find a place to settle down. Until The Old Palace Master realizes Luo Binghe is missing, they will have the advantage. Time is of the essence.

Once he has everything they could need, he pulls out Xin Mo. With fluent movement, he cuts through the space of the room, opening up to a place far, far away from Huan Hua Palace. He is prepared. His Shizun will never have to cast his eyes upon this place ever again.

With Shen Qingqiu in his arms, he steps through the portal and they make their escape.

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