Chapter Text
Shen Yuan woke up to the quiet sound of a ‘ding!’.
It was a soft noise, one he was all too familiar with from hearing it throughout the years. Even now, it struck his chest with joy; strung his heart with excitement. That little beep, that tiny notification—it was one of his smallest but greatest pleasures.
A reminder that PIDW released a new chapter.
Shen Yuan quickly shot up from his bed and grabbed his phone, already smiling unconciously as he scrolled to find it.
Finally, after such a long wait, he was going to see Luo Binghe again!
The damned author, out of the blue, had announced a hiatus two weeks ago and all Shen Yuan could do at the time was fume in rage. Because suddenly Airplane decided that the best time to take a break was at the end of one of his best plot-based chapters yet! And it ended in a damn cliffhanger!
Really, leave it to Airplane to make the worst timing decisions ever!
Shen Yuan didn’t even bother to fix himself up or to prepare his breakfast, because this update was more important than that. It was the return of Demon lord Luo Binghe!
He quickly opened up the new chapter and read it through as fast as he could. It was better than he’d imagined it would be. Shen Yuan refreshed the page with shaking fingers for good measure, re-read the whole thing again, and left a short analysis comment about the newly introduced landscapes and world building.
The comment he left was only twelve paragraphs long.
Shen Yuan closed his phone with a satisfied hum and hopped off his bed. When he looked out the window, the sun had only moved an inch. So he untangled his bed hair to the best of his poor ability and brewed himself a cup of coffee.
And he was ready to start up the microwave too—to throw in a frozen meal for breakfast, but then he opened his fridge only to find it completely bare.
…Well, it looks like he’ll have to make a trip to the convenience store today.
***
Liu Qingge wasn’t as calm as he would’ve liked, grabbing a random coat from the dresser, slipping his trembling arms through its sleeves.
And he donned the same expression that he’d always worn, though it was tense this time. There was a crease between his brows, an edge to his scowl that made it seem more sorrowful than anything.
Liu Qingge kicked the door of the room open and navigated blindly through the maze of unnatural architecture. Now, there was no purpose to his steps, no confidence. He treaded the floor with such haste that it was like he was afraid it would all crumble beneath him.
This was fine. It was completely fine.
Liu Qingge was the Bai Zhan peak lord. His title as an undefeatable warrior spread far past the cultivation sects, far into the legends of the people. He was the War God; ever reliable, ever the strongest, Shen Qingqiu’s shidi. He could adapt to any battlefield, overcome any challenger.
That’s why mortals dressed in strange attire didn’t phase him. Towers ranging hundreds tall, and large, lifeless, iron beasts speeding on the roads; they were nothing.
Hand-held devices with built-in communication arrays? Gigantic screens where images somehow materialized from thin air? What an advanced city this was.
It was truly nothing so groundbreaking that his legs threatened to give out. It was definitely nothing so horrifyingly unfamiliar—so unfathomable—that he struggled to keep the air inside his lungs.
He was just. Lost.
He’d just woken up in a world where the impossible was a daily occurrence. He wasn’t panicking—he only tripped four times and cried once, afterall.
The fact that he may never find his way back to Cang Qiong—that he could never free Shen Qingqiu from his demonic disciple’s grasp, shouldn’t bother him at all.
He was the invincible War God, an unstoppable force. He didn’t die on the battlefield that day, when he was mocked with the limp hand of Shen Qingqiu’s corpse. He didn’t fail to bounce back like he always had. He survived. Surely he survived!
His legs came to a halt as he hung his head low. Liu Qingge stared at the concrete underneath him, biting his lip.
He hadn’t lost. He didn’t— he…
A sharp wind whistled past him, and an iron beast rushed right through the road. It splashed muddy water at his feet.
…He failed Shen Qingqiu.
The next moments were a blur to him, quite literally. Suddenly, warmth built up behind his eyes and it brimmed with tears. His legs had a mind of their own and began to run aimlessly, cutting through crowds, taking him nowhere.
All he knew was that his head swam and that it was hard to breathe. Unlike any battle he’d ever faced, Liu Qingge was pit against something that no amount of physical strength could conquer—that the almighty Bai Zhan peak lord struggled with for five years.
His grief.
When he’d finally came to, he was drenched in sweat. His legs ached, his eyes were red, and deep breaths were cut into by rising sobs.
But he held on. He hid behind the poorly illuminated corner of a nearby building and propped himself up to its wall. He meditated, cycled qi through himself despite having none, and sunk to the floor as he clutched his chest.
Perhaps it was hours, minutes, or simply seconds that he stayed like this, but he just sat there and let himself weep. In the dark, he cried.
He felt as if his shixiong watched over him as he did, though. He recalled those smiles his shixiong thought he could hide, the crinkle of his eyes when he grinned, and the light sound of his laughter like bells singing a melody. The familiar, comforting presence was enough to eventually bring him back to a calm.
He missed Shen Qingqiu, longed for his touch.
Liu Qingge stood up from where he’d fallen and wiped the tears off his face, swallowing down the sobs that still remained. There was nothing to be done, so he sighed, then dusted himself off. He had to move forward, because evil didn’t rest and neither should he.
Only, he’d encountered a problem. He was parched and hungry, throat dry and stomach growling.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise considering everything that happened today, but it felt so unnatural to him. As an immortal, he practiced inedia and had no need for food.
Though he supposed he should go search now lest he starved.
Conveniently, some paces away from where he hid was what looked like a store—what he hoped was a store. The wide glass windows served a clear view of the colorful products lining the walls. Though not all of them looked particularly edible.
Liu Qingge steeled himself and hesitantly approached it. He peered into the glass, assuring that the place posed no threat, then stepped in.
He nearly jumped at the blast of cold air that assulted him. It earned him a strange look from one of the locals who stood behind the counter, but he simply shot her a glare and shrugged the scare off. He reached what he assumed to be the products’ area where shelves stood tall with all kinds of items stacked on.
His eyes were still sore and his limbs still hurt, though he tried not to let it phase him. It would’ve only added onto the confusion as he browsed through the food, all packaged and displayed in some sort of clear material. They looked like transparent fruits with food or drink trapped inside. Strange.
Did people not cook in here? Why were their meals like this?
His stomach sought for the freshly grilled meat he’d always had on hunts, for the filled buns and skewers that street vendors sold. Because atleast that was familiar, atleast that was a comforting weight in his stomach.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to eat these food of unkown origins instead. They’d sat on those shelves for who knew how long, afterall. And it must not taste very good if so many were still stocked.
Shen Qingqiu would have appreciated its creativity though.
Liu Qingge sighed and explored the rest of the store. He didn’t even know if he had the money to buy anything, but it couldn’t be helped. He needed rations and they had it.
He dragged his feet through every section until some time later, he arrived at a smaller place by the large windows, to what seemed like a miniature library. This time the shelves were only at his hips in height, filled with books in decorative covers.
There was also another person scanning through the section close to him. Liu Qingge ran his gaze over the books in curiosity, but it wasn’t exactly his specialty so he didn’t find it interesting enough to stay behind studying them. He eyed the figure of the person across him cautiously, but they weren’t facing him.
No matter, he wasn’t here to bother the locals anyway. Liu Qingge stepped forward to progress through the store and find more supplies, but then he heard a familiar squeak of joy from behind him.
His head whipped around so fast that it hurt. And he caught a glance of the person—who’d finally looked forward. The sight of which made him ache terribly.
Liu Qingge was glued in place, the air knocked out from his lungs.
His legs failed him, refusing to budge. His hands weren’t any better, as it didn’t stop trembling. And the only thing he could do then was to stare. Stare helplessy.
Was he dreaming?
His lips parted in shock, eyes wide as he watched the man from the isle across him wear a faint smile. His fists shook from the force he used to clech it—a desperate attempt to ground himself from the sight that had his head spinning. And it was brief, though he thought that he was going mad.
Across from him stood Shen Qingqiu.
He was a little smaller, face a little rounder. His hair was short; extremely so, and he looked down excitedly at the book in his hands. He hadn’t even noticed Liu Qingge was there, only beaming brighter as he flipped through the book’s pages, and unaware of the gaze burning through him.
The peak lord unconsciously stepped forward.
It was subtle, but he could clearly see the spirit of his Shen Qingqiu shining through the young man infront of him. The similarities were all there, without a single room for doubt.
This was his precious shixiong. Right here.
“Shen-“ his voice was gruff, tight from the pressure. But it was enough for Shen Qingqiu to look at him. “Shen Qingqiu.” Liu Qingge grit out.
Shen Qingqiu lowered the book in his hands and gave Liu Qingge a clueless tilt of the head. “Sorry?”
Their eyes met, and Liu Qingge’s heart pounded in his ears. “Shen Qingqiu.” He repeated, the blood rushing in his veins.
Then, the young man’s face suddenly lit up. “Oh, no way!” He exclaimed, snapping the book shut and pushing it to a confused Liu Qingge. “Another PIDW fan! This is great!”
What?
Liu Qingge’s expression dropped as he read the words that Shen Qingqiu suddenly shoved into his face. It was a book cover, decorated with the title ‘Proud Immortal Demon Way’.
“So you like Shen Qingqiu? Not really my choice of character, but he is a great starter villain.” Shen Qingqiu hummed, though the way that he said his own name sounded foreign to Liu Qingge’s ears. As if it weren’t himself that he addressed. “It’s just a shame the author killed him off so fast. He was probably one of the only characters with an IQ above 40…”
The book was pulled away from the peak lord’s gaze and was instead replaced by the familiar sight of Shen Qingqiu rambling fondly away.
However, it only made Liu Qingge’s skin crawl, made his throat burn.
Was this not Shen Qingqiu..?
Before he could spiral any further, a soft voice cut through his clouded mind. “Sorry, did I talk too much? I got carried away.”
Shen Qingqiu’s lips curled into an akward smile and he clutched the book to his body. “Uh, okay so, it was nice meeting you— uhm.” His eyes landed on Liu Qingge’s face, but instantly darted away. “I need to go now. Have a nice day!”
The peak lord had only registered the faint sounds of his tapping feet scurry away before realizing that he was now watching empty space.
The fluorescent lights overhead suddenly felt blinding.
Shen Qingqiu—the storm that he is—turned Liu Qingge’s entire world upside down once again, then disappeared like the wind. It truly left him baffled and speechless, left his chest caving and his heart unbearably hollow.
But he, the light of Liu Qingge’s life, was here. And that was all that mattered. Shen Qingqiu was safe, and close, and right here.