Chapter Text
Sleeping on nothing but hardwood in a poorly insulated cell was starting to take its toll on Shang Qinghua’s back. Yeah, he’s a prisoner, but would it kill them to have at least given him a blanket or something he could use for padding!? If it weren’t for the thick robes given to him by his king, he’d have succumbed to frostbite ten times over!
If it were any consolation, at least the weather was beginning to get (marginally) warmer. They must be getting closer to the southern border of the Northern Kingdom. And still no sign of my king, Shang Qinghua thinks, biting his lip. He had no doubts that Mobei-Jun was doing everything in his power to find him, but he really, really hoped they’d move on from the finding to the rescuing soon. Though given his earlier encounter, Shang Qinghua dreaded the idea of his king being anywhere near Crimson Guandao.
“Shang Qinghua,” His voice is a deep rumble that makes all the hairs on Shang Qinghua’s back stand on end.
The demon looms over Shang Qinghua, his mouth stretched into a wide grin that accentuated the sharpness of his teeth (though seeing how they were long enough to poke past his lips, Shang Qinghua thought fangs would be a more apt description). His eyes were bright crimson and his wild, curly black hair was tinted red by the flames.
Who are you? Shang Qinghua wants to ask, but the wicked blade strapped to his back answers that question for him. This is Crimson Guandao, leader of the rebellion - at least, he would’ve been, had Shang Qinghua not written him out of the plot.’ Becoming canon fodder is technically a promotion compared to being scrapped from the original PIDW.’ The thought was almost enough to inspire pity. Not that this made him any less scared of the demon. After all, this status was relative to Luo Binghe’s own awesome powers, not Shang Qinghua’s meager cultivation.
“W-what do you want from me?” He doesn’t want to know, not really, but none of the villains of PIDW could resist the sound of their own voice as they explained their evil plan. Since monologuing (usually) meant no physical harm was being done to Shang Qinghua, he encouraged it. True to form, Crimson Guandao can’t resist the urge to speak.
“When you want to remove a weed, how do you go about it? Do you just pull it up from the ground? No, not if you don’t want it to come back. You go down to the roots, destroying the very foundation so it can never return. Mobei-Jun is Luo Binghe’s right hand, and thus a vital root.”
Shang Qinghua feels a surge of anxiety that isn’t for himself. “You want to kill my king.”
Crimson Guandao scoffs, “Of course, you humans think us demons are only interested in killing.” The look of disdain he gives Shang Qinghua is impressive. Even Sha Hualing would struggle to radiate that much disdain from a single, pointed glare.
“No, Mobei-Jun is useful. I have grander designs for him.”
My king would never bow down to you, Shang Qinghua thinks. He wouldn’t have bowed down to Luo Binghe either if it weren’t for his son’s all-powerful protagonist halo and Shang Qinghua’s unwillingness to kill him off. Mobei-Jun might not have the protagonist’s halo, but Shang Qinghua hadn’t left him entirely devoid of plot armor. ‘When my King finds me, you’ll be toast!’ He thinks.
“And if he doesn’t want to be part of your grand design?”
“That’s no concern of yours.” He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand.
“Mobei-Jun isn’t the reason I summoned you,” Crimson Guandao continues, “My subordinates informed me you discovered one of our resource pipelines. I would be pleased to know how you figured it out.”
‘As if it was hard! Any paper pusher worth their salt could’ve spotted the discrepancies from a li away!’ Shang Qinghua thinks. Even if he hadn’t noticed, it would’ve only been a matter of time until someone else did. That and the report Shang Qinghua figured it out from still sat out on his desk. If anyone stopped by, they just had to take one good look at it, and bam!
“The numbers don’t add up on the inventory reports. And the numbers that were altered to hide the theft don’t make sense from a logistics perspective. Changing the amount of fire moss ordered so it looks like we paid three times the asking price. You don’t need to be a genius to see something’s wrong there.”
Crimson Guandao nods, “An unfortunate oversight. One that will need swift correction. Does anyone else know about this? I’d hate to leave any loose ends.”
‘Once again, not helping my initial assessment of you being a bloodthirsty killer,’ Shang Qinghua thinks.
“Not to my knowledge.”
Crimson Guandao nods. “Good. That will be all.”
Shang Qinghua blinks. “That’s it? No threats to my person? You’re just going to accept my words at face value?”
Crimson Guandao gives him a withering look. “Need I point out I already have you under my power? Threats at this point are superfluous.”
Fair point.
Crimson Guandao sighs, waving for his subordinate to take him away.
Shang Qinghua sighs, sinking onto the bench. Exhaustion tugs at his eyelids, making them heavy. Being held captive is no easy task! Once my King saves me, I need to ask for a vacation…
Yan Qingzhao waits patiently for Shang Qinghua to fully drift into slumber. Once she’s certain he’s out cold, she makes her move. Careful to keep her chains from rattling, she slides onto the bench until she looms directly over the sleeping human. Gently, she places a hand on his cheek. It did not always work, but proximity aided by physical contact greatly increased the likelihood of her visions being centered around the other person. After checking once more that the other would not wake, the oracle closed her eyes and breathed deeply, bringing her mind into focus.
The scent of the air changes, becoming sharper. Yes, that’s it , Yan Qingzhao thinks, eagerly following the pull of the vision.
“That was a close call,” Shen Qingqiu sighs with relief.
The oracle -seeing the world from Shang Qinghua’s eyes- turns to him. “Yeah. Fortunately, I didn’t write Gong Yi Xiao as a snitch, so our secret should be safe with him.”
Were the oracle in charge of this body, she would blink in confusion. Instead, she merely watches as Shen Qingqiu retrieves a pouch tied to his waist and offers it to Shang Qinghua.
“Since you’ll be the one in charge of growing the new body, I’ll leave this with you. Don’t you dare lose it, you hack author.” Shen Qingqiu thrusts the parcel into Shang Qinghua’s unsuspecting hands, who briefly fumble before closing around it.
‘What’s in here?’ Yan Qingzhao thinks. ‘Something to grow a new body, but for what purpose?’ She wracked her brain for any spiritual items that could be used to accomplish such a feat. As she did, the two continued their walk, exchanging half-hearted banter with one another. Yan Qingzhao did her best to take in her surroundings, but the human world was foreign to her. Never before had she come across such soft-looking flora, so unlike that which grew in the demon realm. She could find no landmarks with which to later identify this place. All she knew was that they were out in the wilderness, strolling along a wide, somewhat maintained path.
“How long do you think it will take before the body is ready?” Shen Qingqiu asks, demeanor serious once more.
Shang Qinghua considers the question, “Maybe two or three years? Plenty of time before Binghe returns from the Abyss.”
At the mention of the Abyss, Shen Qingqiu flicks open his fan, obscuring his features, but not before Yan Qingzhao catches the slightest downward twitch of his lips.
The vision ends, and Yan Qingzhao is back in the carriage. She removes her hand from the slumbering cultivator and taps a nail on her shackles. Shang Qinghua knew Luo Binghe would be thrown into the Abyss. Did he plan this with Sheng Qingqiu? But how could they have known of his royal demon blood? Or that the youth would survive such a journey? Or, more importantly, that he wouldn’t come back seeking revenge? Perhaps they didn’t. That could explain the need for a new body. Insurance.
Yan Qingzhao thinks of her earlier vision, the one of the bright screen surrounded by darkness, detailing seemingly everything about Luo Binghe. What other information did that brightness contain? And on who? She looks back to Shang Qinghua, who lets out a snore. He must’ve been at least partially responsible for the accumulation of all that information. She wondered what else he’d gathered.
You’re shaping up to be a lot more interesting than I initially believed. Yan Qingzhao thinks. She reaches for him once more, only to retreat at the sound of footsteps.
An ice demon unlocks the carriage, and offers her a nod, “Crimson Guandao wishes to see you.”
“Very well.” Yan Qingzhao allows herself to be escorted from the carriage. Once at his leader’s tent, the demon holds open the flap, allowing her to step inside. He does not follow, instead remaining to stand guard outside.
“Oracle, how lovely to see you. How are you finding your accommodations?” Crimson Guandao asks, voice dripping with false cheer.
“Underwhelming, if I’m to be honest,” She answers, taking pleasure in how his smile flickers.
“You’ll have to forgive me for the necessary evil. Please, take a seat.” He gestures for her to sit, and she does so. It does not escape her notice that the seat in question is a small (albeit padded) stool positioned close enough to his own much grander chair so that, should he so choose, he could use it as a footrest. Yan Qingzhao has no doubts that was its intended purpose. She scoffs internally at the thinly veiled attempt to exert power over her but keeps her facial features serene. She would not give this youth the pleasure of a reaction.
He takes his seat, taking pains to hold himself in a way that aims for casual but comes across as slightly forced. “Any new visions you’d like to share with me?”
“I have seen snatches of Shang Qinghua’s life, but nothing pertinent to your conquest,” She tells him.
“You’ve been with him for days. Isn’t proximity all you need for your visions?” He demands.
“Proximity is necessary to trigger a vision, yes,” Yan Qingzhao explains in an overly patient tone, “But that isn’t enough to control the nature of the visions revealed to me. For that, I’d need my tools.”
“Very well. State what you need, Oracle, and it shall be granted.”
“My bones and a fire.”
Crimson Guandao tosses the pouch containing her divination bones and, with a snap of his fingers, summons a small flame. Yan Qingzhao catches the bones, frowning at the carelessness with which they’d been handled. Graciously choosing to ignore the insult, she tosses the bones into the flame, just as she did not so long ago for Luo Binghe. The bones crack and snap in the flame, which gradually begins to die down. Once the flame is extinguished, she plucks the first of the bones from the ash.
She traces the cracks with a finger, scouring the lines for the patterns that will reveal the answers to her unspoken questions.
“The meeting you’ve long waited for will soon be upon us.” Yan Qingzhao informs him.
Crimson Guando grins, “At long last, we will reunite…prepare yourself, Luo Binghe!”
The Oracle folds her hands in her lap, mindful of her chains as she tucks the remaining bone fragments into her sleeve. While curiosity consumed her, she made no move to interpret the answers to her other questions, not while she was still in the presence of Crimson Guandao.
Just who are you, Shang Qinghua?
Mobei-Jun stumbles onto a nearby stool, grunting with pain as the movement pulls at his injuries.
“I found the group responsible for the abduction of Shang Qinghua,” Mobei-Jun explains, “And confronted their leader, Crimson Guandao myself, but I couldn’t defeat him.”
Crimson Guandao? Now, wait a moment!!! Shen Qingqiu despaired, Crimson Axe was the leader of the rebellion. Binghe crushed him so this subplot should be over and done with! I know damn well there was no Crimson Guandao in PIDW, I would’ve remembered him. But even if Shen Qingqiu couldn’t recall him, Airplane Bro did. Of course, we lost the one person with any info on this guy.
“Were you able to find out what Crimson Guandao wants with him?” Binghe asks.
“He wanted to use Qinghua as a bargaining chip. In exchange for his safety and eventual safe return, he wanted me to help overthrow you,” Mobei-Jun says, the icy look he casts at Binghe signaling he clearly thought this was his fault. Not that Binghe is to blame, Shen Qingqiu thinks, he can’t help the protagonist halo that invariably draws all villains to him.
“Then it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume this is all connected; the embezzled funds, stolen resources, the increase in attacks on trade routes, and perhaps even the surge in animal attacks on our territories. This is all the work of Crimson Guandao.” Luo Binghe thinks aloud. He nods to himself before looking at Mobei-Jun. “You said you knew where he is?”
“He’s made camp at the end of the Chan mountain range, at the edge of the Northern Kingdom by the borderlands.”
Binghe nods, “Then I’ll have to pay him a visit.”
Liu Qingge steps forward, “He’s taken a member of the Cang Qiong sect. It is my duty to see Shang Qinghua returned safely. I’m going too.”
Luo Binghe looks as if he wants to refuse the offer, but seeing the terrible state of Mobei-Jun, he accepts.
“I’m going too,” Mobei-Jun insists stubbornly, despite being barely able to stand.
Binghe shakes his head, “You’re no use to us like this.”
Mobei-Jun grits his teeth. “I will heal.”
Binghe raises an immaculate brow, “In time for our imminent departure? That would be a feat even I, with my blood, would struggle to accomplish.”
Mobei-Jun snarls and turns to Mu Qingfang.
“Human, how long would it take to recover given your,” His lip curls, “assistance?”
Mu Qingfang considers the question while eyeing the demon’s injuries. “Even with my help, you won’t be in fighting condition for at least three days.”
“There you have it.” Luo Binghe says.
“Mobei-Jun, you don’t need to worry. Between all of us, Shang Qinghua’s safe return is assured.” Shen Qingqiu promises. Whoever this Crimson Guandao is, Binghe will dispatch him with ease.
Rather than soothe, Shen Qingqiu’s words have the opposite effect. Teeth grinding, Mobei-Jun clenches a fist. “There’s. Another option,” He hisses the words out as if they physically pained him. With all the burns, they very likely did.
“You don’t mean-” Shen Qingqiu cuts himself off. Surely Mobei-Jun wasn’t about to ask for that. His eyes flick over to his husband, whose face has grown dead serious.
“That’s quite the request,” Luo Binghe says, “You’d be willing to give me that much power over you?”
Mobei-Jun answers without hesitation, “If it would be enough to return me to the battlefield.” The and to Shang Qinghua went unspoken. Shin Qingqiu flicked open his fan to hide his surprise behind it.
Mobei-Jun meant to imbibe Luo Binghe’s royal blood so that the other could accelerate his healing, even though it meant he’d be completely defenseless should Luo Binghe choose to harm him. For a human, the prospect was already terrifying enough (Shen Qingqiu still remembered the terror from his first time being so completely under his not-yet husband’s thumb), but for a demon, whose race scorned any trace of vulnerability…
You really are something else, Mobei-Jun, he thought, his respect for the ice demon going up a notch.
“What?” Lui Qingge demanded.
Luo Binghe lets out a chuckle, “And here I thought you didn’t have any surprises left for me.” His face quickly grows serious again, “Even with my blood, it’s not a guarantee you’ll be back to full strength.”
“So long as I’m well enough to fight.”
Luo Binghe nods, “Having you there to make us portals would be beneficial.” He considers it for a moment longer, before partially drawing Xin Mo. He skims his palm across the exposed portion of the blade before resheathing it, crimson pooling in his palm.
Striding over to the other demon, he thrusts his hand outwards. “In your condition, it will take several mouthfuls.”
Mobei-Jun stared at the blood, face expressionless. Then, swiftly, almost as if to deny himself the chance for second thoughts, he brings the hand closer, and drinks. Once, twice, thrice. As soon as he swallows the last gulp of blood, he tosses Luo Binghe’s hand away as if it burned him.
“I’ll need a few hours to work on Mobei. I would advise everyone else to take the time to prepare.” Binghe suggests.
“Of course, we’ll leave you to it.” Shen Qingqiu agrees, rising from his seat. Binghe doesn’t even give a token protest at his departure, just offers him a nod. Mobei-Jun’s wounds are more serious than I thought. Just how strong is this guy?
Not as strong as Binghe, of course, but it was enough to make him wary of the things to come.