Chapter Text
If Shen Yuan had been given a list of options for potential worlds to transmigrate to, he never would have picked one based on Proud Immortal Demon Way.
And he definitely, absolutely would never have picked an omegaverse variant of that shitty novel!
Yet somehow, that was exactly where he found himself. On top of that, Shen Yuan had been born into such a low-level NPC that his name was just his real name. Convenient, especially when he was younger and had yet to ‘unlock’ the bulk of his old memories, but it felt cheap nonetheless.
It had taken him a while to figure out exactly where he’d transmigrated to—and the omegaverse aspect certainly didn’t help. Nor did the fact that his useless System’s only mission for him was: ‘survive.’ Thanks, Shen Yuan was actually considering not doing that, but now that it was a proper mission, he might as well!
Anyway, once he found that this body had an aptitude for cultivation, he high-tailed it straight to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect with the mindset that if he had to be stuck in this shitty, ill-fated world, then he might as well try for a chance at glimpsing the protagonist. Even better if he could somehow manage a way to ease Luo Binghe’s whump-filled disciplehood, but Shen Yuan didn’t exactly have a lot of hopes there.
His expectation was that as a no-name, cannon-fodder character, he would be slotted into one of the no-name, cannon-fodder peaks. Shen Yuan had actually been looking forward to it a little—the idea of experiencing a more fleshed-out Cang Qiong, getting peeks at the world-building that “Great Master” Airplane had left out.
That wasn’t what happened. Instead, somehow, Shen Yuan caught the attention of the scum villain himself.
It made no sense, but Shen Yuan figured that maybe his original character was supposed to be an unnamed Qing Jing disciple that hung around in the background. The fact that he and Shen Qingqiu shared a surname felt like something that should be addressed, but no one seemed to bat an eye at it. Probably because they looked almost nothing alike; if they were related, it was very distant.
Shen Yuan had at first lamented his shitty luck, before realizing this was actually a blessing in disguise. If he bothered Shen Qingqiu enough, took up enough of his attention, then the scum villain’s wrath would be entirely focused on him, thus sparing Luo Binghe once he finally arrived on the peak!
He was smart about it, of course. Shen Yuan found ways to challenge Shen Qingqiu without disrespecting him too much, not wanting to risk getting kicked out. Or killed. He wasn’t given a fake cultivation manual—only the protagonist was important enough for that kind of sabotage, apparently—so he diligently worked on his cultivation and the four arts to make sure there was nothing warranting ‘corrective’ punishment on that front. He also built up relationships with his martial siblings, mostly because he grew sick of Ming Fan’s bullying.
Never underestimate the power of being nice to others and helping them out! Aided by a few doses of, ahem, well-meaning manipulation here and there, it wasn’t long before Ming Fan’s cronies switched sides. Without a group to back him up, Ming Fan’s only avenue for bullying was utilizing his role as acting head disciple to assign a mountain of chores.
A role that—in a shocking turn of events—Ming Fan actually lost. Shen Yuan had thought that his machinations would anger Shen Qingqiu and incite his wrath, but instead he…impressed him? Apparently? It was the only way to explain why Shen Qingqiu not only replaced Ming Fan with Shen Yuan, but went so far as to make him official head disciple.
On the day of his appointment ceremony, Shen Yuan couldn’t help but shoot Ming Fan a few smug looks. You’ll never realize this, but this is also for your own good! Now you’ll have a chance to avoid death by tens of thousands of ants!
His smugness lasted up until Shen Qingqiu whisked him off to the Bamboo House, where Shen Yuan was meant to brew and serve his shizun his first pot of tea as official head disciple. Shen Qingqiu didn’t dump it on his head, thankfully, but he did give Shen Yuan a rather unnerving warning:
“If you have the nerve to present qianyuan in the future, this master will make sure you regret it for the rest of your life.”
Yikes! What the hell was someone supposed to say to that? Got it, I’ll make sure to control this completely uncontrollable fact of nature? Talk about unfair!
At a loss, Shen Yuan just muttered, “Yes, Shizun,” and Shen Qingqiu nodded like that settled things.
Shen Qingqiu himself was a zhongyong, as were most of his older, presented disciples. In fact, now that Shen Yuan thought about it, there wasn’t a single qianyuan on Qing Jing Peak, and only a couple kunze—namely, Ning Yingying. This world had a lot of weird rules about designations, so Shen Yuan tentatively concluded that maybe one such rule was that zhongyong were considered best suited for Qing Jing, in a similar way that Bai Zhan was majority qianyuan and Qian Cao was majority kunze.
Still. Did Shen Qingqiu have to be so fucking ominous about it?!
Being head disciple wasn’t so bad. Shen Yuan was certainly more responsible about it than Ming Fan had been—not that he’d set a high bar. The job also came with increased time around Shen Qingqiu, and after a while Shen Yuan started…noticing things.
Things like how Shen Qingqiu was especially closed-off with his scent even for a zhongyong; not even the Bamboo House carried his scent. Or how he was especially on edge when Yue Qingyuan visited the peak, and would be more prone to doling out punishments in the following days. Or how peak lord meetings always meant Shen Qingqiu would abscond from the mountain that very same night, returning the next morning with the scents of his martial siblings covered up by those of multiple unfamiliar kunze.
In the latter case, it was obvious he was visiting a brothel. That Shen Qingqiu was still a lecher in this world was unsurprising, but the fact that such visits invariably took place after stressful meetings with people Shen Qingqiu didn’t like itched at Shen Yuan. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Once, when Shen Qingqiu forgot to set up his usual anti-trespassing wards around the Bamboo House before leaving for a mission, Shen Yuan took the opportunity to do some snooping. ‘Know your enemy’ and all that, right?
He didn’t find much. Shen Qingqiu kept his cards so close to his chest that the Bamboo House was completely clean—at least, as far as Shen Yuan could tell through surface-level investigation. He was wary of searching too deeply and either accidentally triggering some latent ward or otherwise clueing Shen Qingqiu in to the fact that someone had been in his home.
The only thing of any interest was the spare wardrobe in Shen Qingqiu’s bedroom. Shen Yuan had carelessly pulled it open, expecting to see more of the same elaborate robes and accessories that had been in the first wardrobe. Instead, he’d found a strange pile of fabric and cushions, all smelling faintly of kunze. Osmanthus tea—one of the scents that often wafted off of Shen Qingqiu whenever he returned from his brothel trips.
A favored prostitute, then? Shen Yuan wrinkled his nose in distaste. Was Shen Qingqiu really such a pervert that he stole away scented items like this? Even if the scent was nice, it wasn’t an excuse. He’d better at least be treating that kunze well whenever he visited her.
After one last inhale of the sweet scent, Shen Yuan firmly shut the wardrobe and left.
Luo Binghe’s introduction to the peak threw a wrench in things. One look at that little fluffy-haired little pup activated something in Shen Yuan; he just had to keep him safe at all costs!
Shen Qingqiu, predictably, was not a fan of this development. Shen Yuan had been unable to stop him from throwing tea onto the young protagonist, but he did immediately follow it up by helping Luo Binghe clean himself up and offering kind words. Luo Binghe needed to know that not everyone on the peak was an asshole, and that he at least had the head disciple in his corner!
Shen Qingqiu didn’t hesitate to punish Shen Yuan for the ‘disrespect.’ It sucked, but this was his original plan, after all—to be a lightning rod for Shen Qingqiu’s wrath, thus sparing Luo Binghe. Even if Shen Yuan and Shen Qingqiu had managed to get along decently well for a few years now, it was foolish to hope that might change the scum villain’s nature.
And so the trend continued. Shen Yuan stuck to Luo Binghe like glue whenever he could, going so far as to tutor him so that Luo Binghe could more easily catch up on his literacy. The young protagonist really was such a cute pup, always staring at Shen Yuan with starry eyes! Shen Yuan could never resist reaching out and patting his head, and if his scent leaked out to mark and linger on Luo Binghe’s curls, then, well, whoops. Luo Binghe certainly didn’t seem to mind.
Shen Qingqiu did. Whenever he caught the two of them together, he dragged Shen Yuan off for punishment. It seemed he also had the uncanny ability to tell when Shen Yuan was merely thinking about Luo Binghe, because he would randomly smack him hard on the head with his fan, apropos of nothing.
It got to the point where Shen Qingqiu started dumping more responsibilities and more missions onto Shen Yuan, running him ragged and keeping him apart from Luo Binghe. But it was fine. Anything was fine so long as Luo Binghe was spared from their shizun’s wrath.
Of course, it was right as Shen Yuan was reflecting on this one day, returning to the peak from a mission he’d completed early, that he encountered a scene from his nightmares.
Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe were in a small clearing, tucked away from the rest of the peak. Luo Binghe knelt at his shizun’s feet, fists clenched in his lap. His head wasn’t bowed, but instead held stiffly to stare forward.
There was an ugly bruise on his cheek.
Shen Qingqiu was saying something to Luo Binghe, tone venomous, but Shen Yuan didn’t hear his exact words. He was too focused on the already-cracked fan in his shizun’s hand, poised and ready to unleash another strike.
Things got a bit blurry from there.
Shen Yuan could only remember feeling an immense spike of vicious protectiveness. The overpowering fury at the idea that someone would dare harm his pup. There were flashes of things—snarling, leaping at the threat, Shen Qingqiu’s wide eyes—but the rest was lost in a haze before things went dark.
When Shen Yuan woke up, the lingering confusion from his heightened hormones was increased tenfold by the unfamiliar environment. He was on neither Qing Jing nor Qian Cao Peak, and it took him a good minute to recognize the stark, simple architecture as belonging to Bai Zhan.
It wasn’t until later that he learned what had occurred: in the haze of his abrupt presentation and protective fury, Shen Yuan had attacked his own shizun. Shen Qingqiu fought him off, then called on a few hallmasters to wrangle him and cart him off to Bai Zhan Peak. Shen Yuan had at first assumed that he was merely meant to ride out his presentation rut here—amongst the other ‘qianyuan brutes,’ as Shen Qingqiu liked to call them—and then return. However, he soon discovered that this arrangement was permanent.
He was now a disciple of Bai Zhan Peak.
Anyone looking at the situation from a logical, outside point of view would say he’d gotten off easy. Attacking a peak lord the way he did was grounds for being kicked out of the sect, but instead Shen Yuan had merely been relegated to another peak with no other discernible punishment. Considering that the peak lord he’d attacked was Shen Qingqiu, some said it was a miracle Shen Yuan was still alive.
Shen Yuan himself, however, was not above railing at the universe and at his useless System for the injustice. It wasn’t his fault he turned out to be a qianyuan, and it especially wasn’t his fault he presented so suddenly instead of going through the usual months-long process! Shen Qingqiu was the one who had been beating Luo Binghe, but Shen Yuan was the one who got kicked off the peak?!
It wasn’t fair. Shen Yuan had worked hard as Qing Jing’s head disciple and deserved to stay there. Not to mention that he wasn’t suited for Bai Zhan at all! It may as well have been an entirely different planet compared to Qing Jing. Every day was a free-for-all brawl where everyone beat the shit out of each other, exchanged bro-nods (including the girls!), went to bed, and then did it all again the next day. Shen Yuan had been as diligent in his martial training as everything else, but the Qing Jing forms hadn’t prepared him for this sort of environment!
Liu Qingge wasn’t even on the peak to ‘greet’ his new disciple when Shen Yuan got shoved onto it, nor would return anytime soon. He was apparently on some hunt that was projected to take months to complete; Shen Yuan didn’t manage to get any more details out of one of his new peakmates before she started throwing punches.
Above all, Shen Yuan worried about Luo Binghe. Without him there to act as a buffer, was Shen Qingqiu abusing that poor child? What sorts of horrors was Luo Binghe enduring every day?
Shen Yuan soon found himself shockingly grateful that the Bai Zhan raids were a thing. What had previously been an irritant that resulted in injured disciples and partially-destroyed infrastructure—not to mention the guarantee of putting Shen Qingqiu in a foul mood for at least a week—was now an opportunity. Shen Yuan could no longer gain access to Qing Jing Peak on his own, but it was easy to trail along behind a group of his peakmates as they charged right through the barriers and past the poor disciples who had been put on watch.
Luo Binghe wasn’t at the training field that the Bai Zhan disciples descended upon, so Shen Yuan split off from the group to search for him. Thankfully, he was in the first place Shen Yuan looked—a little clearing with a tree stump where Luo Binghe liked to sit while he studied.
“Binghe!”
Luo Binghe sprang to his feet, eyes widening as he took in the sight of Shen Yuan in Bai Zhan colors. “Shi— Oof!”
Overwhelmed by the sight of his pu—his friend, Shen Yuan pulled him into a tight hug, nuzzling his cheek against the top of Luo Binghe’s head. Luo Binghe stood frozen in his embrace. “Sh-Shixiong?”
Rationality returned to Shen Yuan in that moment, and he jolted away. He was still learning how to handle the sudden onslaught of new hormones brought by his presentation, but he couldn’t believe he got carried away like that!
“Ah, sorry…” Shen Yuan awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. Then, he registered what Luo Binghe had called him. “You know, technically I’m your shidi now.”
A stubborn frown fixed itself on Luo Binghe’s face. “Shixiong is Shixiong, no matter what peak he’s on.”
Very sweet, but not how that worked! Qing Jing and Bai Zhan were the second and seventh peaks respectively; even if Shen Yuan were Bai Zhan’s head disciple, he would still be ‘shidi’ to anyone on Qing Jing Peak. There was no arguing with Luo Binghe when he got that look on his face, though, so Shen Yuan let it go for now.
There were more important matters at hand, anyway.
“How are you?” Shen Yuan asked, assessing him. It had been a few weeks since The Incident, and Luo Binghe’s face looked fully healed from the bruise he’d seen that day, but there could be any number of injuries hidden under his robes. “Are you hurt anywhere? Has Shizun—” He grimaced. “Shen…-shibo been treating you well?”
Luo Binghe softened under his fussing. He assured Shen Yuan that he was fine, and that he hadn’t received any ‘punishments’ (beatings) since that day. Shen Qingqiu was still hard on him, of course, and Luo Binghe was saddled with extra chores and labor, but he hadn’t been struck. Considering Shen Yuan’s horrified imaginings of Luo Binghe being strung up, whipped, then locked in the woodshed every night, this was great news!
Weird news. But still great!
When Shen Yuan commented on the oddity of it, Luo Binghe gave him an indecipherable look. “Shixiong was…different that day.”
“Different?”
“…Scary.”
Shen Yuan blinked.
“Th-This one wasn’t scared!” Luo Binghe quickly added. “But Shixiong clearly wasn’t himself. When you attacked Shizun, I think…” He worried his lip, then lowered his voice. “I think it might have…alarmed him.”
Was Luo Binghe really saying what it sounded like he was saying? That Shen Yuan’s feral attack, what, scared Shen Qingqiu straight?
He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He was relieved by the idea that Luo Binghe might not suffer the endless whump he went through in canon, of course. But the thought of it happening only because Shen Qingqiu had been scared out of it…unsettled him, for some reason. Peerless Cucumber probably would have rejoiced in the comments that the scum villain had gotten even a taste of comeuppance so early, but Shen Yuan had spent enough time around Shen Qingqiu to know that he wasn’t just a one-dimensional villain.
Shen Qingqiu was an asshole, yes, and honestly really bad at teaching even when he was genuinely trying. He was harsh on his students and didn’t hesitate to dole out physical punishments, but there was more to it than just the egotistical power trip that Shen Yuan had assumed it to be when reading the original novel. He wasn’t sure how to name it. Sometimes Shen Qingqiu’s eyes would go wide and distant, like he wasn’t actually seeing whichever disciple was before him. His breathing would quicken and stagger, barely audible unless you were listening for it.
No, Shen Yuan didn’t like the idea of Shen Qingqiu being scared at all. He sorely hoped Luo Binghe was mistaken.
On top of being inundated with enough jocks to make Shen Yuan’s former semi-otaku ass break out in a cold sweat, the education system on Bai Zhan Peak was terrible.
Frankly, Qing Jing hadn’t been that much better when Shen Yuan first joined. It was a cutthroat, sink-or-swim environment where punishment lurked at every turn. But there were at least lessons. After a week on Bai Zhan Peak and a few too many strange looks, Shen Yuan gave up on asking when they were going to have a formal lesson. The closest they ever got was at the end of each week, when the hallmasters would round up the disciples for some slightly more structured, tournament-style sparring. It always dissolved back into the usual sort of free-for-all after a few rounds, but an attempt was made.
Shen Yuan hated it.
He was decent with a sword and could hold his own on missions, but he wasn’t a fighter. Nor was his cultivation at all physically inclined. The, ah, reputation he’d accidentally garnered due to his presentation meant that his first few weeks on Bai Zhan were blessedly peaceful. Who knew what exactly his new peakmates thought of him, but going feral and attacking one’s own shizun gave one a certain sort of air.
His peace was limited, though, and running out swiftly. Shen Yuan could only ‘arrogantly’ dodge out of attempted spars so many times before his dear martial siblings would realize he was exactly the sort of soft scholar they expected Qing Jing to produce. Once that happened, all bets would be off.
Shen Yuan needed a plan to keep that from happening. Or, at least, to put him in a position where the others would still be wary of crossing him after it did happen.
Leveraging the fact that he had previously been Qing Jing’s head disciple, Shen Yuan gathered up all the paperwork and other administrative responsibilities that had been split among Bai Zhan’s hallmasters. A grown-up meathead was still a meathead, so they were all too happy to pawn off the ‘boring stuff’ onto Shen Yuan.
Soon, by carefully restricting certain supplies and granting a few favors to key peak members, Shen Yuan became known as the guy who could get you things. Want your favorite training dummy fixed instead of replaced? Ask Shen Yuan. Want more meat served in the dining hall? Shen Yuan was in charge of that, too. And if he requested something in return then, well, that was only fair, right?
The funny part was that this was all stuff he was technically supposed to do, as the person now in charge of the administrative work. But presenting it as a sort of trade system worked well to raise his esteem in the eyes of everyone else. Under Shen Yuan’s reign, supplies were well-stocked, missions were better organized, and the food somehow tasted better. In return, the hallmasters listened when he suggested that the disciples would learn better with more structure, and even followed the lesson plans he laid out for them. The disciples, as well, listened when Shen Yuan told them to focus less on property destruction during raids, and more on testing the other peaks’ combat skills.
“And when someone loses to you, tell them what they did wrong,” he said, hands on his hips as he instructed today’s raiding group. “Someone can only learn so much by getting pummeled over and over, and we’re all one sect at the end of the day. Help your opponent back to their feet and guide them through how they messed up and left holes in their guard. Okay?”
“Yes, Da-shixiong!” the crowd responded in unison.
Ah, that was another thing: after a few months of Shen Yuan’s careful restructuring, most of the Bai Zhan disciples had taken to calling him ‘Da-shixiong,’ like they thought of him as head disciple or something. Haha, Shen Yuan definitely didn’t put that thought in their heads.
Bai Zhan would never be Qing Jing, but Shen Yuan managed to build up a decent life for himself here. He also used every raid on his former peak as an opportunity to check in on Luo Binghe and make sure he was still doing well. Thanks to Shen Yuan, Luo Binghe’s cultivation had never been sabotaged by a fake manual, he was sleeping in the dormitories, and wasn’t being bullied at all. Other than the extra chores, he was basically thriving!
Since none of the Bai Zhan disciples had a death wish, Qing Jing raids always took place when Shen Qingqiu was off-peak, and everyone quickly beat it out of there at the first sign of his return. Because of this, Shen Yuan almost never saw him—not that he wanted to see Shen Qingqiu. Just. He was curious how his former shizun was doing without Shen Yuan as head disciple. Ming Fan seemed to be back in his unofficial role, and Shen Yuan knew for a fact he wasn’t performing up to Shen Qingqiu’s standards the way he had.
Maybe it was petty, but Shen Yuan kept hoping for some sign that Shen Qingqiu regretted kicking him off of the peak. Whenever Shen Yuan spotted him from a distance, he would study Shen Qingqiu. Looking for shadows under his eyes or any disarray to his hair.
Shen Qingqiu looked as impeccable as always.
One day, after months of rare sightings from a distance, Shen Yuan’s luck ran out. In his attempt to evacuate Qing Jing after a raid and avoid Shen Qingqiu, he somehow crossed into his path and almost tripped right into him.
“Shi—bo!” Shen Yuan barely corrected himself in time, only remembering to salute after the fact.
Shen Qingqiu held himself tall, gaze flinty as it roamed Shen Yuan’s form. His expression shifted in an unreadable way as he took in his robes—Bai Zhan colors, but very much in the style of Qing Jing’s robes.
Okay, so Shen Yuan had gotten really fond of the scholarly look—sue him! There weren’t any rules about wearing certain cuts of robes so long as you stuck to your peak’s colors, and it was actually pretty easy to make the request from An Ding. It was a…comfort, of sorts. Not to mention that it helped to make him stand out further from his fellow peakmates.
But now, under Shen Qingqiu’s critical gaze, Shen Yuan felt akin to a cringey teen still clinging to their teddy bear way past the appropriate age.
“You have some nerve, returning here,” Shen Qingqiu eventually said. His voice was cool and even, betraying nothing.
Doing his best to ignore the strange atmosphere, Shen Yuan straightened his shoulders. “It’s Bai Zhan Peak’s duty to regularly test the combat and defensive skills of other peaks. As a member of Bai Zhan…” He faltered, tightness strangling his voice. He cleared his throat. “This disciple has a right to join such tests.”
Belatedly, Shen Yuan realized how far away Shen Qingqiu stood, how stiffly he was holding himself. It wasn’t like they really kept close proximity before, but the imposed distance made him itch. He had the strange urge to step closer, crowd into Shen Qingqiu’s space, press his wrists to—
The harsh snap of a fan flicking open pulled Shen Yuan from his thoughts. Shen Qingqiu’s nose crinkled with disgust as he waved his fan as though to dismiss a smell, and Shen Yuan realized that he’d accidentally been leaking his scent. Face flaming, he slammed down on it, but the damage had already been done.
“Get off of my peak,” Shen Qingqiu hissed.
Shen Yuan rushed to comply.
So yeah, other than a few…bumps…things were going surprisingly well for Shen Yuan on Bai Zhan Peak.
And then Liu Qingge returned.
Shen Yuan’s headcanons of a burly, rough-and-tumble War God were summarily dashed; Liu Qingge was surprisingly delicate and pretty for a qianyuan. And angry-looking. Shen Yuan kept his distance at first as Liu Qingge discovered at every turn just how different his peak had become in his absence.
Hallmasters weren’t where he expected them to be (because they were actually teaching), the training fields were neat and properly stocked, and the disciples moved about in a somewhat orderly fashion. Every time Liu Qingge stopped a disciple to ask who was responsible for this or that change, they would chirp, “Da-shixiong!” and his scowl would deepen.
It didn’t take long for Liu Qingge to track him down. At the sight of him stomping in his direction, Shen Yuan had to force down the instinctive panic-sweats.
“Ah, Shifu!” Shen Yuan saluted. “Welcome back!”
“You’re the one changing everything and calling yourself my head disciple?” Liu Qingge studied him, taking in his appearance and odd robes, then concluded, “I’ve never seen you before.”
“This disciple made his way onto Bai Zhan Peak in Shifu’s absence.”
One good thing about Bai Zhan Peak was that it wasn’t uncommon for prospective disciples to climb the peak and fight for a spot on it at any time outside of the annual selection event. Given the known beef between Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge, Shen Yuan figured he wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea of a former Qing Jing disciple on his peak. A little misdirection wouldn’t hurt anyone, and he wasn’t technically lying. He’d come clean about his origins…eventually.
Liu Qingge gave him another once-over, this time more appraising. Since Shen Yuan had seemingly fought his way onto the peak and earned enough respect from the others to be called ‘Da-shixiong,’ Liu Qingge was likely coming to some wildly incorrect conclusions about his martial prowess. Hopefully he wouldn’t try to test Shen Yuan’s mettle anytime soon.
“You’ve changed everything on the peak,” Liu Qingge said. “Why?”
“This disciple values efficiency. I saw problems that needed solving and took the initiative to solve them.” Shen Yuan ducked his head, feigning bashfulness. “To be honest…this disciple was hoping to impress Shifu.”
Liu Qingge stared at him. “Why?” he repeated.
“In the hopes that Shifu would make me Bai Zhan’s official head disciple!”
“Oh.” Liu Qingge frowned. “Everyone’s already calling you head disciple, anyway.”
“Yes, but it’s not official without Shifu’s approval,” Shen Yuan patiently explained. He straightened his shoulders and launched into his practiced self-advertisement: “This disciple has worked hard to restructure Bai Zhan’s education system, and the budget—”
“Stop.” Liu Qingge held up a hand. “The peak isn’t destroyed and no one seems upset by your changes. If you want to keep doing all this work for no reason, then fine.”
Shen Yuan felt a little wronged; he’d worked hard on that speech! Still, this was convenient for him, so he grinned and withdrew a scroll from his sleeve, unfurling it before pulling out a seal as well. “This disciple thanks Shifu! In that case, Shifu need only stamp his official seal on this form.”
If Liu Qingge found it at all suspicious that Shen Yuan already had his seal on hand, he said nothing. “You’ll have to scrounge up whichever hallmaster has the head disciple’s token and get it from them,” he said as he took the scroll and seal.
Shen Yuan smiled; he’d already done that.
With that sorted, Liu Qingge shoved the items back at Shen Yuan. “There. Try not to burn down the peak while I’m gone.” He turned on his heel to head off.
Shen Yuan scrambled after him. “Shifu’s leaving already?”
“My cultivation is reaching a bottleneck; I need to go into seclusion to get past it.”
A chill ran down Shen Yuan’s spine. Were they already at that point in the timeline?
“You can’t!” he blurted out. When Liu Qingge stopped and turned to him with an arched brow, Shen Yuan rushed to add, “Th-There’s a mission! Direct from the sect leader! And, uh, Shifu is the only one who can handle it.”
Technically, Liu Qingge wasn’t the only one who could handle it, but he was definitely the best option. He was strong enough to take down the monster alone, whereas it would take an entire group of their top disciples otherwise. And with a whole group, odds were good that they’d mess something up about the stealth tracking.
Shen Yuan rummaged through his sleeve and pulled out the missive with the hunt request, passing it off to Liu Qingge. His frown stayed as he read through the details, but Shen Yuan thought he saw a quirk of interest in his brow.
“…Fine,” he eventually said. “I guess I can handle this first.”
He turned and left without so much as a nod. Very polite, that one.
Whatever; Shen Yuan was satisfied enough with the fruits of his scheming. Liu Qingge very well couldn’t be killed by Shen Qingqiu if he wasn’t in the Ling Xi Caves at all! With his new shifu cleanly swept out of the line of fire, Shen Yuan patted himself on the back for a job well done.
And then Sha Hualing and her cohort invaded the sect, and it occurred to him that he maybe should have come up with a scheme that still kept Liu Qingge on the mountain.
Shen Yuan found himself on Qiong Ding Peak by pure coincidence—though he did side-eye his System once demons started popping up. Overall, the invasion went mostly the same as it had in the webnovel. Shen Yuan helped his martial siblings fend off the invaders until Shen Qingqiu showed up, at which point he and Sha Hualing started the whole ‘three battles’ thing.
Shen Yuan planned to volunteer for the third fight, but Shen Qingqiu called Luo Binghe’s name before he could so much as twitch. Waves of irritation and anxiety swept through him, but he kept himself in check. This was supposed to happen, he reminded himself. Luo Binghe would win.
Sure enough, Luo Binghe managed to take down Elder Sky Hammer—and with relative ease compared to his novel counterpart! What a difference un-sabotaged cultivation could make!
And then everything went to shit.
Truth be told, Shen Yuan didn’t pay much attention to the barbs traded between Shen Qingqiu and Sha Hualing in the aftermath—his former shizun was likely laying out cutting insults about her, her subordinates, and the entire demon race, and Shen Yuan was long in the habit of tuning his derisive words out. More pressing was the matter of rushing up to Luo Binghe and fussing over him. Some deep-written instinct insisted that he personally check over this little pup, even though logically he knew that Luo Binghe would be fine.
He was in the middle of praising Luo Binghe’s coordination when he registered movement in the corner of his eye. Elder Sky Hammer had stood back up, and was giving Shen Qingqiu the sort of death glare that could level a mountain if it had any physical power to it. Fuck, exactly what sort of insults had the scum villain dished out? Shen Yuan should have paid attention!
It all happened so quickly. Sky Hammer dashed forward, and for all his posturing, Shen Qingqiu was tired and bruised-up from his own fight. He was slow to react—too slow, and Sha Hualing had said there was no cure for that poison, and—
Shen Yuan moved without thinking.
He didn’t have a spiritual sword yet, but his regular sword still managed to pierce the demon’s armor. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to stop Sky Hammer’s momentum; he collided with Shen Yuan, piercing his chest and sword arm with poisoned spikes.
“You—?!” Shen Qingqiu’s strangled voice came from right behind him, but it somehow sounded far away as well. The poison worked quick; his vision was already going spotty. Was this what dying felt like?
Shen Yuan withdrew his sword and dropped to one knee, valiantly trying to stay conscious. Scenes appeared in staggered flashes—Shen Qingqiu with Xiu Ya held to Sky Hammer’s neck, demanding a cure; Luo Binghe’s adorable little face, creased with worry; another voice, terse and somewhat familiar—had Liu Qingge returned from his mission already?
A cool flow of spiritual energy into his veins invigorated Shen Yuan somewhat. His vision cleared enough to see Shen Qingqiu above him, lips pressed thin and brow furrowed. The juxtaposition of poison burning through his veins and qi working to counteract it made Shen Yuan woozy, and he didn’t think much on his actions as he lifted a heavy hand to try and smooth out the crease between Shen Qingqiu’s brows.
Shen Qingqiu blinked.
“Shibo shouldn’t frown so much, ah…” Shen Yuan sighed and let his arm drop. “It mars his incomparable beauty.”
There was a sputtered response that Shen Yuan didn’t hear, his consciousness fading fast. Perhaps there was a hallucinatory aspect to this poison, because he thought he caught the faintest scent of osmanthus tea before everything went dark.