Chapter Text
Luo Binghe’s birthday passed with little fanfare, by his own request. Ren Bai and Ning Yingying managed to create a lumpy, doughy bowl of longevity noodles and provided small trinkets as presents--Ning Yingying, a little embroidered pouch filled with a good luck charm, and from Ren Bai, a small pile of talismans that she’d carefully selected from Qin Fen Peak. The most important among them were the heat-providing talisman, able to keep warm a small room--or a wooden shed--even in the coldest of winters.
Seeing as he’d cried once while receiving the gifts, and had seemed on the verge of it several other times, it was likely a good thing that it’d been a small affair. Luo Binghe really was a glass-hearted kid; any kind gesture was enough to bring him almost to tears.
The weeks afterwards were--well, simultaneously exciting and underwhelming. As a fully-fledged immortal cultivator, several new freedoms were available to Ren Bai. She could now go to other peaks as she wished during her free time, and could even descend down the mountain to the town below.
After finishing what basically amounted to driver’s ed, flying sword edition, she could even be assigned to go on night hunts--with other disciples, of course, but more experienced cultivators could go alone if they so desired.
Ren Bai knew that she’d soon be sent on a night hunt--likely immediately after she’d passed the required training in sword fighting. She was likely one of the best fighters on Qing Jing, and with each day she improved her skill with the sword, that proficiency became more clear. It was maybe the one ability that the hallmasters ever praised her on, so she knew she had to be good.
And because of that, Shen Qingqiu would be showing her off the moment he could. Honing her like she herself was a blade. Each day he would sweep a critical eye over her, likely assessing her cultivation and skill level.
She found herself wishing for his approval at the same time that the clearly discerning gaze, like eying an item at the market, rankled. Her sword, kept constantly at her side, always trembled the minutest amount while in her Shizun’s presence.
In that time, waiting as she was, Ren Bai found herself studying more and more closely: Shang Qinghua. Unassuming, relatively friendly, and constantly stressed, she saw him just about everyday as she picked up and dropped off the mail. And everyday, he chattered away about this and that, asking her questions about her training, about her Shizun, about her fellow disciples--about Luo Binghe. Never mentioned by name, but always, the incessant and upbeat curiosity about her younger martial siblings and how they were doing, how they were getting along.
There was no doubt in her mind anymore--it was Airplane. At first, she’d been so excited that she’d wanted to run all the way to An Ding and immediately reveal that she was a transmigrator, too. But she hadn’t made it but a few feet before she’d stopped dead, overwhelmed by questions.
If Airplane was in Shang Qinghua, then that changed everything. Because...Airplane was only in Shang Qinghua in one possible world. SV.
Which meant she wasn’t in the original novel. She was in SV.
She was in Scum Villain.
Laid out on the forest floor in the grips of the worst panic attack she’d had in years. Ren Bai wondered, in the kind of numb, blank way that often resulted in hysterical laughter, what had happened to Shen Yuan. Because that Shen Qingqiu in the bamboo house was definitely not Shen Yuan--that was all Shen Jiu.
Had Shen Yuan still died? Did he wind up transmigrating into a different body? Maybe he was still on Qing Jing, but as a disciple or something? Maybe he was on a different peak. Maybe he was a demon!
...maybe he’d just passed on. What had happened to him? Did it have anything to do with the reason she was here?
How had she come to be here? According to everything she knew about transmigration, it made no sense. Didn’t you usually have to be really into the novel or show, or whatever, to transmigrate into it? Shen Yuan had been obsessed with PIDC, and Airplane wrote it. Ren Bai? She hadn’t disliked SV, but she was no superfan, either. She’d read it, got up to where the translation was, thought it was fine, and had forgotten to go back and read the extras. A lot of the background information she knew through fandom osmosis.
There was just no way she could have qualified for transmigration into SV. And she didn’t have a System, so.
That was the other problem. Airplane did have a System, probably. A System that told him what to do, and held his life captive if he wanted to change things. A System that would force her to throw Luo Binghe into the Abyss if it knew about her--and that was only the best case scenario. If she was right in her worst assumptions, and she really wasn’t supposed to be in SV, the System could just catapult her back into her old body. Her likely dead body.
No. She couldn’t reveal herself to Shang Qinghua yet. She needed...to make sure the System couldn’t just get rid of her if she really wasn’t supposed to exist. She had to plan this out.
Spread-eagle on the dirt and snow, staring up at the bare and dark branches above her, Ren Bai reflected that this time, she might honestly make Shen Qingqiu proud.
She was going to figure out how to out-maneuver destiny.
~
As she was nervously coasting through the air on her sword and trying not to look at the long drop beneath her, a sudden explosion rocked through the air.
“Holy--” she swore, desperately flapping her arms to keep her feet beneath her.
So what if the sword was all but attached to her feet with qi? It was still scary! There was no safety net on this thing!
Hurriedly descending, Ren Bai jumped to the ground and sighed, shaking her head at the sight of smoke beginning to rise from a nearby building.
“They never learn,” she muttered, twisting one of her hands. WIth a sharp noise, her sword sheathed itself at her side.
No matter how many times she came to Qin Fen Peak, she was always newly amazed and horrified. She didn’t think there was a single time she’d been here that there hadn’t been at least one explosion going off somewhere.
There was a reason that the air above this place was a no-fly zone, that was for damn sure.
“Hey,” Ren Bai called, nearing the entrance to the building still smoking. Other disciples bustled about, engaged in their own work and paying no attention to the recent disturbance. It probably happened so often that they were simply used to it, but she always at least checked it out and made sure the person was okay. “You okay in there? Need some help?”
Loud coughing came from the inside, and she rolled her eyes before grabbing and opening the door. Smoke billowed out, making her grimace and step away.
A soot-covered face poked out of the entryway, blinking owlishly in her direction. “...Ren-shijie…?”
“Xian-shimei,” Ren Bai crossed her arms, eyebrows raised. “Why am I not surprised?”
Xian Hanying smiled awkwardly, trying to wipe the soot off her cheeks. It really only succeeded in spreading the grime more, seeing as her hands were similarly filthy.
“Shijie exaggerates, this shimei rarely ever has mishaps like this,” she said, stepping back into the building.
Ren Bai followed, eyes going to the scorch marks along the walls, legacies of the projects that have gone up in flames--literally. On the long table laid out in the middle of the room was a smoldering pile of burnt papers and brushes, the scent enough to crinkle Ren Bai’s nose.
“I’ve found you like this at least four times in the past months,” she said sardonically.
“Less than once a month is very good,” Xian Hanying sniffed, clearing off the table and throwing the scraps into the waste bucket kept close by.
Oh, sure it is.
Huffing a laugh, Ren Bai offered the girl a rag from where they were kept in a drawer for this exact purpose.
“What were you working on this time?” She asked, glancing at the scrolls laid out on the secondary research table placed against the wall. The writing was barely comprehensible, wild and messy strokes crowding the paper to the point that Ren Bai had to pick one up and squint to read it.
“Projection of qi...into manifestation...through…” she read haltingly, before it was plucked away from her hands.
“That’s out of date, don’t look at it! It’s embarrassing, really, the method of releasing qi would never work in large amounts, which of course makes it useless.” Xian Hanying shook her head, rolling the scroll back up and putting it onto one of the shelves.
… “Right,” Ren Bai said, rolling her eyes. “And what are you working on now, that caused…” She gestured to the smoking ruins on the table.
“The updated version!” The girl replied, smiling brightly as she gestured to a couple of scraps of talisman paper that were still somewhat recognizable. “I reformulated the output method of the previous talismans, and it seems that it worked! There was just the difficulty of, ah, the way the qi released from the talisman. I wasn’t expecting the difference in the amount of qi released, and for some reason, instead of moving and locking in place, it instead...well, exploded outward.”
“...okay,” Ren Bai said, trying to follow along. “So you’re trying to get the qi to...manifest in a certain way.”
“Yes! As a barrier. Specifically against demons, is the long-term goal, but at this point I’m hoping to make a solid barrier through which nothing can pass.”
“Huh.” Tilting her head to the side, Ren Bai considered the issue. “...you said the talisman wasn’t releasing this amount of qi before, right? Because of the way it was being let out?”
Xian Hanying nodded, digging through one of the drawers and emerging with a scraper, before moving over to the ruined table.
“Well. Did you...change the part of the talisman for locking the qi into place...to account for...the increased amount of qi?” Ren Bai sounded out the words, pondering on each before speaking.
Xian Hanying froze in the middle of scraping the debris of her project off the table, slowly looking over at Ren Bai.
...so...no, huh?
Fumbling for her notes, Xian Hanying furiously read through them before collapsing onto the table and releasing a low groan.
“Why is it always something so obvious?!” She demanded, muffled by the still smoldering table.
Ren Bai could only offer a sympathetic pat on the back. “Don’t feel too bad,” she said. “It’s easy to miss small details when you’re focused on the big picture.”
Propping her face up with a hand and blowing out a long breath, Xian Hanying reluctantly nodded. “I suppose so. I’ll have to be more careful.”
Eyeing the scorch marks on the walls, Ren Bai agreed wholeheartedly.
“Thanks, Ren-shijie,” Xian Hanying said, but Ren Bai waved her off.
“No need. It’s good to have another person to bounce these things off of sometimes. Just...try to lessen the explosions, alright?”
Of course, Xian Hanying wasn’t foolish enough to agree to that, but she promised to try, which was the best Ren Bai could hope for.
“Actually, shijie, since you’re already here, did you still want those basic bait talismans that you mentioned last time?” The girl asked, moving to a different drawer and rifling through its contents. She triumphantly produced five small pieces of paper, covered in elegantly written calligraphy--not that Ren Bai could read a word of it, the characters much too stylized to be decipherable.
“You finished them already?” Ren Bai asked, pleasantly surprised.
Xian Hanying snorted, a smirk curling her features. “Something so simple only takes some hours, at most.”
“Of course,” Ren Bai replied sardonically, pocketing the talismans. “Ever impressive, shimei.”
Laughing as the other girl preened, Ren Bai bid her farewell and took off towards where Peak Lord Zou Qinghan waited for her missives.
The flight back to Qing Jing was much more peaceful, especially seeing as Ren Bai didn’t have to worry about any of the buildings underneath her randomly exploding and throwing her off her sword.
She touched down at the training grounds, hoping that her two little ducklings would be practicing so she could say hi before having to return to Shen Qingqiu. Sure enough, the sounds of wooden swords slashing rang throughout the clearing; ever since she’d received her sword, they’d both been training furiously for when they’d be sent to Wan Jian in the next year.
They paused as they noticed her, both of them dropping their practice swords and rushing over.
“Ren-shijie!” Luo Binghe called as she stepped down off her sword, sliding it back into its scabbard. “Have you finished your tasks for the day?”
“Not yet,” she said, trying not to laugh as he deflated like a popped balloon. “I still have to give Shizun his mail. Just checking in for a second.”
“Does shijie still want to inscribe her sword today?” Ning Yingying asked, eyes bright with excitement. “Yingying’s so excited to see it complete! She’s been practicing her strokes over and over so they’d be perfect!”
“This shidi has been practicing every day,” Luo Binghe said immediately. “Shijie won’t be disappointed!”
The two shared one of those strangely intense looks of rivalry she’d been seeing more and more often. There was nothing malicious about it--actually they were both smiling cheerfully even right now--but it was unmistakable that they’d somehow turned this into a competition.
Amused, she said, “I know it’ll look wonderful. I will definitely be there tonight.”
With renewed spirits they wished her well, and she walked off to finish her chores and deliver Shen Qingqiu his mail.
Today, her Shizun was not in the bamboo house when she knocked on the door. Instead, when she paused to curse under her breath and wonder if he’d taken off for the town below again, she heard the faint sound of a qin being plucked emanating from the bamboo grove behind the house. Turning her head, she listened, entranced by the music. The notes were slow, picked with care, and they floated in the breeze to her.
There was no mistaking who this was, and she followed the music to the edge of the grove, where impossibly tall stalks of bamboo swayed in the wind, almost dancing. She didn’t dare to intrude on Shen Qingqiu, but she also couldn’t leave until her duty was done. Instead, Ren Bai stood there in the chill of a winter day and listened, eyes closed.
She only faintly noticed when the music stopped.
“Ren Bai.”
The words were not as cold as the weather, and yet she still felt a chill. She snapped to attention. “Yes, Shizun.”
“Stop standing there like a fool. You have my missives?”
“Yes, Shizun.” She approached, following the narrow path through the bamboo to where Shen Qingqiu sat in a small pavilion. She’d never been in this area of QIng Jing before; it was the exclusive property of the Peak Lord, and no one dared trespass.
“Give them to me,” Shen Qingqiu said brusquely, placing his qin to the side and extending a pale, elegant hand.
Ren Bai cupped her hands and did as he commanded. He flipped through the letters with narrowed eyes, none seeming important enough to draw his attention.
“Ren Bai,” he said, while examining the contents of one letter. “I will be sending some of my disciples on a night hunt soon. You will be joining them.”
She barely restrained the knee-jerk reaction to gape like a fish. A night hunt? Really? Her first one had been...disastrous.
Swallowing that down, she slowly nodded. “...yes, Shizun. As you say.”
His eyes flicked up to meet hers. They were flat, and somehow terribly threatening.
“It will be a joint mission with another sect,” he said softly. “You and your fellow disciples will not just be representing Qing Jing Peak, but all of Cang Qiong. You will not embarrass me.”
“...yes, Shizun,” she managed.
His eyes went back down to the scroll, and she knew she’d been dismissed. Saluting again, she quickly made her escape through the grove, until finally she could see the back of the bamboo house once more.
Walking on auto pilot, Ren Bai worried anxiously about what this meant. A joint night hunt? That had never happened in SV.
Well--the sects did have to work together. Probably quite often. But it was never the focus. There’d never been any mention of something like this.
Though, there was really no mention of anything that’d happened during this time. The period between Binghe turning 15 and the Immortal Alliance Conference was totally blank. She had two years of unknown variables to be thrown at her.
...only two years until Luo Binghe was thrown into the Abyss…
This might be better, though. She needed to get stronger in the time she had left, so that when Luo Binghe needed her, she could protect him. She needed more experience in fighting, and she needed to improve her cultivation.
Really contemplating what she’d be facing in the future filled her with dread, and she paused, grimacing as her stomach started to roil. Grimacing, she looked up and exhaled a sigh that turned into a cloud in the chill air, slowly dissipating.
She still could remember with painful clarity how easily Liu Qingge had beaten her down, even out of his mind and previously injured. And Luo Binghe had crushed Liu Qingge in every battle they’d fought for five years.
And Tianlang-Jun had beaten Luo Binghe.
The power gap was enormous. She was no protagonist. She had no golden halo. There was no way she’d ever be able to go toe-to-toe with these people and win.
But then, she wasn’t on Bai Zhan Peak, with its emphasis on honorable combat. She was on Qing Jing Peak, where knowledge was power and tactics trumped all.
...she was going to have to get inventive.
~
“Don’t look so nervous, you two,” Ren Bai said, unable to stop her lips from twitching upwards. “It’ll be fine!”
“That’s easy for you to say, shijie!” Ning Yingying whined, hand tightly gripping her brush. Even without ink on the bristles, it was easy to tell that her practice strokes were rigid and messy. “You’re not the one doing it!”
Luo Binghe’s eyes were sharply focused on his own strokes, his grip on the brush relaxed but firm, just as they were taught in class. She knew just from looking at him that he hadn’t been exaggerating earlier; he probably had been practicing every night for this.
Warmth went through her at the thought, and she barely stopped herself from ruffling his hair. He’d never forgive her if she threw off his concentration now.
“Don’t worry so much,” she told Ning Yingying instead, fond. “Come on, what have I told you? Deep breaths.”
Her shimei breathed in as Ren Bai softly counted, then exhaled to the same meter. They repeated that a few more times until Ning Yingying’s hands were steady and her brushstrokes, when she tried again, were smooth.
“Okay,” she said. “I--think I’m ready.”
Ren Bai drew her sword from its scabbard, the sheen of metal glinting in the steady silver light of the night pearls. She placed it onto the table, hilt side closest to them, and carefully arranged the tassel so it wasn’t crushed underneath the blade.
This was what she’d decided she wanted--a piece of each of the people she loved best, so she’d always carry them with her.
Ning Yingying shuffled closer, then carefully outstretched the brush until it touched the smooth metal surface of the blade, a little above where it met the hilt. With precise strokes, she wrote the first character--and underneath, they watched as an engraving appeared, following the brush as it went.
Her shimei lifted the brush after the final stroke, eyes wide and awed. Luo Binghe moved closer, somehow even more laser-focused than before. He added his own character, hand steady. When he finished and placed his brush down, they all looked at the finished product together.
Pride burning in her chest, Ren Bai beamed at the name, penned in two unmistakable distinct hands. Ning Yingying’s character was more precise and gentle, the writing of a noblewoman trained from birth by tutors. Luo Binghe’s character was more strict, with the rigidity of one still somewhat uncertain with the brush--but bold, written with care.
Perfect. It was perfect.
“Thank you,” Ren Bai said quietly, reaching out and tracing the name. “I’m so happy. What do you think, Xing Huo?”
The sword remained still, but inside her she felt a suffusing warmth from where her connection to Xing Huo stemmed.
“Mm. They like it, too,” she said.
“Shijie, may I…?” Luo Binghe hesitantly asked, reaching out a little towards her sword.
Ren Bai blinked. “Of course, Luo-shidi. Go ahead.”
He took hold of her sword with reverent hands, one finger tracing the character he’d engraved. Now that it was done, he’d begun to look overwhelmed, even tearful.
A hand ruffled his hair, and he leaned into it immediately, closing his eyes. She did the same to Ning Yingying, who smiled brightly.
“Thank you for agreeing to do this,” Ren Bai murmured. “It means a lot to me.”
NIng Yingying nodded quickly, before scooching closer and leaning a head on her shoulder. Luo Binghe, never one to be outdone, quickly did the same.
“Of course, shijie,” he said quietly. “I’m happy, too.”
“Yingying, too!” Chirped her shimei.
Ren Bai laughed a little.
Good. That was good. She had to remember that this was what she was fighting for, when the knowledge of everything coming started to overwhelm her. All that mattered was being here. Keeping this.
This was everything she’d ever wanted.