Work Text:
Wife #378.
Shen Qingqiu grimaced, a bitter taste in his mouth, as he sat tightly restrained by Immortal-Binding Ropes in the dark, small, windowless room his kidnapper had thrown him into.
This was the godawful set up for Wife #378.
It had been a shitty plot to read, and it was a shitty plot to live. Shen Qingqiu wriggled slightly against the ropes—not much, not enough to disrupt his cool and graceful act, but a little out of restlessness and growing irritation. It wasn’t like the kidnapper was in the room to see him anyway.
He wanted to say he couldn’t believe he’d been caught in this damned plot, but unfortunately, Shen Qingqiu knew exactly how he had been. He had been unusually careless—what with everything being so calm lately—and while his thin face would never let him admit it aloud, he knew it was his own fault he’d been captured so easily.
After all, they really had used the oldest trick in the book, and he fell for it.
What grand, noble Immortal Peak Lord wanted to confess that? None! No matter how thick his face was, the tips of his ears would surely color. So, no, Shen Qingqiu could absolutely not let anyone find out how he’d been kidnapped so easily. It was bad enough he’d have to face Shang Qinghua later, who would definitely know exactly what happened and never let him live it down.
Like he wouldn’t have been caught just as simply.
He couldn’t believe he fell for it, even now as he sat alone in the dark room. The ropes were tight, he could barely even squirm around, his upper body completely bound. He just knew that even though his robes protected his him, he would have marks where the ropes imprinted on his skin.
Oh, his husband would love that…
Oh, his husband.
Shen Qingqiu winced slightly. Luo Binghe had been in the demon realm when he was kidnapped—he’d been out on an errand and hadn’t even told Binghe he was going out since he thought he’d be back in no time!
Seriously, who would have thought that little boy selling candy would be a puppet?!
(Anyone with any sense of common sense, he literally had no pupils, but Shen Qingqiu would leave that fact out if he ended up having to explain to anyone how he was snatched because then he’d have to confess about being excited about candy because it looked remarkably similar to chocolate. Which he simply could not do.)
He wiggled a bit too much—uncaring of how undignified he looked seeing as no one was around to see—and fell onto his side with an ‘oof!’
Wonderful.
He sneered to himself, looking down to glare at the ropes around his body. This was not how he wanted to spend his day. He didn’t even know what they wanted from him!
In the case of Wife #378, it was some low-life but strong demon who’d snatched her up because of her exceptional beauty—betting on her IQ that left one wanting and strong sense of sympathy to lure her with his puppet-boy and “candy” (unsurprisingly, the candy wasn’t even real, it was scraps with an illusion over them—so he didn’t even get the fucking chocolate) and grab her when she least expected it.
After waxing poetic about her looks, while keeping her restrained in the very room Shen Qingqiu lay in now, he’d decided to take her as his mistress and ‘lavish her with luxury’ (code for: keep her on a tight, short leash and throw expensive looking things her way when she tried to run).
She refused, tearful but strong-willed, and he left her locked there for two weeks with minimal food. In the end, she caved and spent a week as his mistress—practically a zombie—before Luo Binghe saved her. It sounded long and drawn out, but in reality, Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had zoomed through the part of actual substance—showing a only few short scenes of Luo Binghe searching for the softhearted beauty he’d met by chance and her saving—before jumping to the ‘thank you for saving my life’ sex and quick marriage, throwing her into the harem only to forget about her not even five chapters later.
Not that anyone cared.
In fact, to Shen Qingqiu’s astonishment and horror, the readers had loved the short arc. It made no sense! How had it done so well?! It had absolutely no substance when there was so much potential for more! Why had he just zoomed through the actual hunt to find her? Why had her tragic backstory only been hinted to then dropped in favor of making her just stupid?! Why, gods why, did they need to have so much sex—and how did she manage it—after two weeks of barely-fed confinement and a week of slightly-less-restrictive imprisonment and abuse????
His head ached just remembering it.
He really needed to talk to Shang Qinghua about these plotlines… He could tell some had real potential and maybe some actual thought behind them in the beginning, but then they suddenly dropped in quality (on Shen Qingqiu’s scale) and it was really quite jarring at times.
But back to the point at hand, things in Shen Qingqiu’s reality were much different than in the original novel. So much so that he couldn’t rely on the facts he knew anymore.
For one, he was married to Luo Binghe and there was no harem.
As such, he had no idea how the rest of the plot would play out.
All he knew was he did not want to be stuck in mold-smelling room for two fucking weeks.
Shen Qingqiu let out a heavy sigh and slowly rolled himself back upright into a sitting position.
He had only just finished righting himself when the barred door a few feet in front of him swung open inwardly and the demon who had kidnapped him sauntered in, holding a candle in one hand and twirling a blade in the other. When the door closed after him, the candle was the only light in the dim room. It glowed eerily against the deathly pale skin of the demon approaching him, casting shadows in all the right places to make him look like he’d been pulled straight out of a horror movie scene.
Shen Qingqiu, however, was not moved in the slightest.
“What do you want?” he sneered, ignoring the hair that fell out of the crown holding half of it back and in front of his face.
He must have been gone for hours now. Had Luo Binghe returned to the bamboo house, yet? Had he realized his husband was missing?
Briefly, he wondered how much damage Cang Qiong Mountain would take when he did until Luo Binghe remembered the blood parasites still in his body and that he could track him.
One would think that in times of emergencies it would be the first thing he did…
Reality often disappointed compared to fantasy, though. As such, Luo Binghe often forgot all about them in his panic and worry. An Ding Peak paid the price many times for this, countless repairs burdening their shoulders.
“A pretty thing like you… I think it’s clear what I want,” the demon leered, a downright disturbing look in his eyes. Despite himself, Shen Qingqiu shivered. He may not have been afraid but…that look was not one anyone wanted to be on the receiving end of.
Before he could stop himself, Shen Qingqiu spat at his feet with a fierce glare. “Do you know who I am?”
He had a fire in his eyes and a sharp, burning hatred in his voice—a picture of the original Shen Qingqiu, but for entirely different reasons. Even the righteous, pretentious ‘who do you think you are’ tone… Any other time, he would have shuddered at the resemblance, then fell into a complicated spiral thinking about his past. Now, though, he—almost unconsciously—leaned into the righteous indignance and haughtiness, bristling at the idea of some random demon daring to think he would be his mistress! Him! Him!
He was practically the Empress of the Demon Realm!
Not that he’d never admit that aloud, but… Well, Luo Binghe loved throwing the title around in court, despite his constant protests against it, so he figured it was okay to think it just once, in special circumstances.
(He was just happy he’d managed to convince him to call him husband instead of wife—his face much too thin to be able to take it if he called him such a thing in the presence of anyone else, let alone, gods forbid, the other Peak Lords. He could live with Empress, on occasion. Especially instances when it benefitted him.)
Ah, no! Not the point! Not the point!
He came out of his thoughts and back to the present just in time to hear his captor chuckling as if his question were nothing but a silly joke.
“Of course, I do!” The demon told him once he finished, eyes wide. He gave the dagger in his hand another quick twirl before he lunged forward and placed the sharp tip under Shen Qingqiu’s chin, slowly tilting his head back with it. He lowered his voice and whispered, almost taunting and definitely thrilled. “You’re my newest bride.”
Unable to ignore the absurdity of the fact that he didn’t know who he was when Luo Binghe practically shouted across all the realms he was married to the ‘Great and Noble Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu’ on a constant basis, which meant this guy was either lived under a rock or truly cared that little for his life—Shen Qingqiu let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. Though he didn’t move, the blade under his chin a very real threat (who knew if it was poisoned!), he curled his lips into a disgusted grimace.
“Bride?” he retorted, letting every single bit of his distaste drip from his voice, “I am hardly a bride—and certainly not yours.”
The eyes staring back at him flashed in candlelight and suddenly the blade on his chin was pressed against his throat. Shen Qingqiu barely suppressed a hiss as he felt the cold metal press against the surface of his skin. He couldn’t let his captor see any form of weakness in him, though. The moment he showed even a sliver of weakness was the moment he was done for.
The demon leaned in close, the tip of his nose pressing against Shen Qingqiu’s.
It took everything in him not yank himself backwards and away from the contact. It would have been more dangerous to do so, though. There would be no way he would be able to steady himself and he’d surely fall onto his back with the way he was bound, and then…he was already at a disadvantage enough with the Immortal-Binding cables, but the demon holding him had a weapon as well and—from what he knew from the original plot line—he had no problem dealing out punishments.
Shen Qingqiu would prefer to get out of this as unscathed as possible, thank you very much.
He just had to put up with it for a little longer. He was sure Luo Binghe would come for him. Any moment now. Any moment. He just had to hold out until he was there…
It had already been a good few hours, evening would probably be falling soon…
Just a little longer. Just a little longer…
“After what I’ve already spent on your robes?” the demon sneered, visibly angry, breath fanning over Shen Qingqiu’s face.
If it hadn’t been for years of practice putting on a perfectly poised, composed, perpetually unbothered Peak Lord, he would have scrunched up his nose and furrowed his brows as the stench of what could only be described as burnt flesh assaulted his nostrils. And in his mind, he did react, gagging internally while his external expression remained blank.
What was he talking about anyway? Robes? What robes? And he’d just kidnapped him that morning! Even if it was hours ago, that’s still not long enough to have perfectly tailored robes prepared and bought when he’d been in this room the whole time! Nonsense! He was speaking nonsense! What was with the villains in this world!?! Did he just randomly keep supposedly expensive robes around in any size?!
Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!
He would lose his mind from the absurdity of it all before the demon even had the chance to kill him, honestly.
Binghe, hurry!!! Your Shizun can ’t take much more of this!!
“You cannot back out now!” the demon snapped, pressing the blade harder to his neck. Something hot and wet slid down Shen Qingqiu’s throat and he internally groaned when he realized the dagger had drawn blood.
Please don’t be poisoned, repeated like a mantra in his head. He hadn’t even realized he closed his eyes until the demon let out a loud, frustrated cry and pulled the dagger away in a rush, only to press it to his jugular instead of where his Adam’s apple bobbed. Fuck. Just a little more pressure and he’d…
“Look at me!” the demon demanded sharply, a crazed note to his voice. Was he like this in the original plot?! The blade pressed harder, and Shen Qingqiu held his breath. “Look at—!”
But nothing happened.
It all stopped.
Something hot splashed over his face.
A choked and garbled noise replaced the words that had been on the demon’s tongue only moments ago, a gross, wet gargling sound that would make bile rise in anyone’s throat.
The blade against his neck fell to the floor with a clatter.
Shen Qingqiu felt his body be abruptly yanked back and his eyes snapped open at the feeling just in time to see the life fade from the demon’s wide eyes and a bloodied blade protruding from his throat as dark blood flooded his mouth, dripping down his chin.
He blinked.
The Immortal-Binding cables around his torso slackened, then fell off completely.
He blinked again.
Mobei-Jun suddenly stood in front of him, holding out Xiu Ya with a bored look on his face. Shen Qingqiu blinked for a third time, slowly grabbing his sword from Mobei-Jun as he did.
Processing.
That quickly, the demon holding him had been killed (the sickening sound of a sword sliding through flesh rang out as the blade was pulled out of his throat), he’d been freed of the ropes binding him, Mobei-Jun found and gave him his sword—wait. Mobei-Jun was here…that meant, the person behind the other sword—
“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. At the name, Mobei-Jun stepped out of Shen Qingqiu’s way so he could see his husband.
Luo Binghe sneered, disgust clear on his face, at the collapsed body of the newly dead demon. At the sound of his name, though, the expression changed in an instant and he looked over with wide, bright eyes and a relieved grin spreading ear-to-ear.
“Shizun!” he called, glee and relief mixing in his voice. He flicked his sword to the side, ridding it of as much blood as he could before he quickly returned it to his side and stepped over the limp body to approach Shen Qingqiu. “Shizun. This disciple was so worried.”
Familiar hands cupped his face, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, and Luo Binghe pressed their foreheads together.
“Husband,” corrected Shen Qingqiu gently. He raised one of his own hands to cradle Luo Binghe’s cheek. “This husband is just fine…” A pause. Softer, “I knew Binghe would come.”
A few moments passed like that. The scent of blood was pungent, but neither cared as they held one another. It was a reunion. One after only a day’s absence, but a reunion, nonetheless. In this world, Shen Qingqiu knew from experience, even only a few hours missing could certainly mean death.
When Luo Binghe finally pulled back, it was with a small, guilty noise and a pained look. He let go of Shen Qingqiu and flicked his arm, drawing his sleeve over his hand before he wiped carefully at his face. Shen Qingqiu could only assume he was wiping away the blood that had splattered onto his face from before. He tried not to grimace at the thought.
A bath would be needed…
Once he was satisfied, his hand moved from Shen Qingqiu’s face to his throat, fingers hesitating over the shallow cut there. His face took on a complicated look. “Husband is injured. This one should have been faster. Husband was hurt because of my slowness.”
What? Slowness? He’d only been gone for one day and Luo Binghe had already found him! In what world was that slow?!
“No! No, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu quickly denied, “that demon is at fault, not Binghe. It’s only a surface wound, really. This husband is just fine, it will heal in no time.”
Luo Binghe looked ready to argue, but thankfully, a sharp cough drew both of their attention. The pair looked over at Mobei-Jun, as if suddenly remembering he was still there.
Well, in fact because he was so quiet, Shen Qingqiu had forgotten he was there. Oops.
A light heat rose to his face and he ducked his head, taking a step back. He cleared his throat and fastened Xiu Ya at his side. Glanced down at the body.
On second thought, it really was…not the best place for a reunion. He grimaced.
“We should leave.”
Neither protested. They set out immediately. (Though, if Shen Qingqiu gave the limp body a firm and sturdy kick before they did…no one had to know outside the three of them.)
When they got home—home to the bamboo house, home—Luo Binghe was stickier than ever. As he usually was after a Shen Qingqiu Kidnapping.
He clung to Shen Qingqiu’s side the moment Mobei-Jun left them, not letting him out of his sight for an instant. Even when the other Peak Lords and Sect Leader Yue Qingyuan came by to check on him, he stuck like glue to Shen Qingqiu’s side. Shen Qingqiu swore at one point, when Liu Qingge and Mu Qingfang came to check on him, Luo Binghe was going to growl at them when they got too close.
(Liu Qingge because he’s Liu Qingge and had to inspect him to see for himself that he was alright since apparently Luo Binghe’s word alone was untrustworthy, Mu Qingfang for actual medical reasons like checking his pulse and meridians after hours of being restrained by Immortal-Binding Ropes and bandaging his throat.)
Shang Qinghua had been the last to visit.
And that one had been a fun one.
Shen Qingqiu knew the moment he walked in he’d already heard and put the pieces together. His snide remark died on his tongue under the sharp glare of Shen Qingqiu, though, who spent the whole visit hiding his lower face with his fan. However, the look in his eyes when he left screamed that he was just waiting for a few days to pass so he could tease him about this without it being considered ‘too soon.’
Typical.
In the end, by the time he left, Shen Qingqiu was exhausted.
Night had long since fallen and the day had been excruciatingly long.
He picked mindlessly at the bandages wrapped around his neck, lying in bed in only his inner robes. Maybe he should ask Shang Qinghua sometime if there actually was a way to get chocolate around here so this wouldn’t happen again… Ah, not that it would happen again. Luo Binghe lay beside him, holding him in his arms like he’d disappear the moment he let go, and finally—finally—all was calm again. He would rather like it to stay that way.
He knew Mu Qingfang would want to see him again in the morning, just to be sure nothing changed overnight. That was in the morning, though. He didn’t need to think of it now.
Now, he could just rest. Finally, really rest.
He let out a short sigh and let his hand fall from his neck, instead opting to find Luo Binghe’s head and run his fingers through his curls.
“Thank you,” he murmured, staring up at the ceiling.
Binghe, who had been leaning into the gentle pets, hummed. “Hm?”
“Oh, I just… Husband arrived just in time today,” Shen Qingqiu elaborated, “this master is simply grateful to have been found so quickly.”
He needed to get it through to him somehow that he had been anything but slow. Of course, Shen Qingqiu could never be that direct, though.
Luo Binghe shifted around a little until he lay half on Shen Qingqiu’s chest. He stared at his face a moment, before leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Husband doesn’t need to thank me for saving him. There was never any choice to make in the matter. This one only regrets not being faster…”
Shen Qingqiu hummed but didn’t say anything more. This was like fighting a losing battle—ah, he’d try again later… Maybe use some more persuasive methods. For now, he just guided Luo Binghe’s head down onto his chest and resumed his petting, letting his fingers slowly work through loose knots and silky waves.
And just like that, exhaustion seeping into his bones, Shen Qingqiu found himself falling asleep, the events of the day finally catching up to him as he lay there in his husband’s embrace. It had all gone so fast yet so slow—the hours spent captive feeling like days, whereas the rescue felt like mere seconds…
He had known Luo Binghe would find him, he had known it wouldn’t take long, either. Still, though, his entire body felt lighter with the relief coursing through him as they held each other. And maybe it was because of his less-than-great track record with this sort of thing that had hidden anxiety burning low in his belly the whole time, or maybe it was just because he was happy to be back in his husband’s arms.
Regardless, Shen Qingqiu knew he would rest easy that night.
And in the morning…he would take a long, long bath and resume life as usual, avoiding every single inquiry on how he managed to get himself kidnapped.
That would be a secret gladly taken to his grave.