Chapter Text
Shen Qingqiu stirred irritably, his internal clock telling him it was far too early for his husband to have breakfast ready, and thus far too early for him to bother being awake. He groaned lightly then was mildly surprised to hear sounds of clumsy scrambling from Luo Binghe.
In the year and change after their marriage (the public one, not those first bows they had taken in their quarters immediately following Luo Binghe’s proposal that Shen Qingqiu actually preferred to think of as the start of their union), Luo Binghe had always taken the greatest care to move quietly in the mornings. Admittedly, it took some effort to get Shen Qingqiu out of bed when he had no official reason to be, but he refused to take any fault in that habit. Their evening… intimacies kept him active through half the night. While far more pleasurable and less taxing after they had gotten sufficient practice for the protagonist skill halo to kick in, Shen Qingqiu still claimed the earliest morning hours as his own to lounge. For his part, Luo Binghe happily took the opportunity to spoil his Shizun husband when he was least likely to complain about it.
So the sharp intake of breath and gangly fumbling would have been alarming if Shen Qingqiu was even mildly more awake. But he wasn’t and his qi recognized that it was Luo Binghe beside him, so he didn’t bother hiding himself as he sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and yawning inelegantly. “Binghe? What is it?”
“S-Shizun?!”
“It’s husband, not—” Shen Qingqiu cut himself off, freezing as more than the damnably familiar address registered in his head. Like the genuinely shocked tone. And the higher pitch.
Feeling like he was in a horror movie, Shen Qingqiu lowered his hand and slowly looked at the figure framed by the sheer red curtains of his marital bed. It was undoubtedly Luo Binghe, but the presence of Qing Jing standard issue inner robes, shorter stature, and shell-shocked expression clued him in on the fact that this was not his Luo Binghe.
Or maybe he was. Shen Qingqiu scrutinized him closely, noting he was older and healthier than when he first transmigrated to this world and that his eyes lacked the underlying cunning that was present in Luo Bingge. That, and he was looking at him with a familiar, almost awed devotion that he highly doubted the Original Goods would ever inspire in a charge. No, this was his disciple, just not the current version of him.
Then Shen Qingqiu clocked that this white lotus was very much not looking at his face.
“Turn around!” Shen Qingqiu snapped, flushing as he brought up the sheets to cover his bare torso like an affronted maiden. It was far too late to hide the numerous marks his loving and possessive husband had left behind. Shen Qingqiu never bothered to heal them as long as they would be hidden by his clothes, so there were obviously fading marks that were far too telling of their habits to someone he was not married to. Not yet, at least, and not for some years if he’s reading the other’s age correctly.
The young Luo Binghe hadn’t moved, eyes dazed as he looked at Shen Qingqiu’s thoroughly love-bitten neck. Increasingly embarrassed, Shen Qingqiu grabbed one of the soft pillows that littered the bed and threw it lightly in his disciple’s face. “Turn around now, Binghe! Or do you not listen to this master anymore?”
Luo Binghe squeaked and almost took flight in his haste to turn away. “Yes, Shizun! This lowly disciple apologizes for his failure to respond and his disrespectful gaze. Asking Shizun to punish this one however Shizun deems necessary!”
Shen Qingqiu’s blush flared at the words. Having been on the receiving end of one too many honest and heated diatribes from his husband about the early fantasies of his discipleship, he was painfully aware what this Luo Binghe is likely hoping for.
He wanted to chastise him for the impropriety of it all, but could he really do so in good conscious? If a teenage Shen Yuan had woken up next to the nude and obviously well-loved object of his fantasies at Luo Binghe’s age, being called husband, would he had behaved any differently?
Didn’t make it less mortifying.
“Stop. Just… stop. Give this master a moment.”
Shen Qingqiu took a deep, steadying breath and stood to get dressed. The wardrobe was thankfully on his side of the bed, so he didn’t have to worry about attempting to preserve his modesty further. He would take what he could get because the more he thought about the situation, the worse it seemed.
Where was his husband? How old was this Binghe? Would this mess with his own timeline? Would this mess with an alternative timeline, and alternative version of a Shen Yuan who hadn’t yet pushed his disciple into the Abyss? Where was his Luo Binghe? How could they set it to rights? He didn’t think Xin Mo cut across both space and time. What caused this? Would the System penalize him for all but spoiling the ending for this version of Binghe? Where the fuck is my husband?
System? Shen Qingqiu asked, internal voice much calmer than the rising panic in his head around the implications of this young, definitely-not OP demon lord version of Luo Binghe being here while his husband was somewhere unknown. System, explain what is happening here.
[Thank you for contacting the System! As part of your VIP status, we hope you enjoy this Special Event, “Back to the Future!” This Event was triggered by high Protagonist satisfaction levels with the current, ongoing mission “Marital Bliss!” Please keep working hard to unlock new content and achievements!]
Shen Qingqiu didn’t start shouting aloud, but that was only through sheer iron will and practice. What do you mean, special event? Where is my husband!? Is he safe? Can this Luo Binghe be hurt here? What happens if other people find out he’s here?! Is it a problem he knows that, you know, we get married eventually?
[Thank you for contacting the System! As part of the “Back to the Future” Event, the current Protagonist has swapped places with a previous version of himself for 24 hours, creating an alternate timeline at the end of this Event for the corresponding previous version of Host! Participants will then decide how to use the knowledge this event has given them! Please keep working hard to–]
Can this Luo Binghe be hurt here? Shen Qingqiu asked again. Both versions of Luo Binghe had the protagonist halo to ensure that they emerged from any hardship, but he had a lot more faith in his husband to keep himself safe in a time he already lived through than in his disciple to navigate a world where he was a demonic emperor. The kid had yet to unlock his demonic heritage, let alone forcibly ascend the throne.
[Thank you for contacting the System! Participants will carry the effects of this Event even after it is over, including any memories or physical changes. Please keep–]
Disgusted, Shen Qingqiu force-closed the interface. Worse than useless. Why would he even bother—
“S-Shizun?” Luo Binghe’s tentative voice had him pausing in his hurried movements to become decent. “Begging Shizun’s pardon. This disciple is foolish and ignorant of what is happening. Where are we?”
Right. Right. Okay, he could do this. If he wasn’t supposed to tell him anything, the fucking System wouldn’t have put him here. Hell, maybe things will be better for the other him if Shen Qingqiu cleared up a few things now. But first…
“This master will explain what he can,” he said gently. He secured the last layer for him to feel comfortable and pulled out one of his husband’s outer robes. He turned and approached the boy, formalities dropping easily in this space. “I’m sure this is very confusing for you. Here, put this on. It’s technically yours, anyway.”
Luo Binghe looked at him in dazed astonishment as he took the black, far too large robes with great interest. Hmm, perhaps he should have just given him one of his…
“Does that mean that Shizun is technically this one’s husband as well?” Rather than the sly flirt it would have been if the older Luo Binghe was in front of him, the boy was clearly in awed disbelief at the sentence, eyes sparkling with hope.
Shen Qingqiu sighed and snapped his fan open to hide his flush. “This one is the husband of the man he bowed to and no other. Binghe is far too young for—how old is the Binghe before this master now?”
With the too large robe swamping him and fluffy hair mussed from sleep, he looked more like a defenseless puppy than usual. His expression was open and obliging as he said, “This disciple is 16, Shizun.”
Sixteen. A little less than a year before The Immortal Alliance Conference, probably. Shen Qingqiu often did his best to forget the stress of those months leading up to him betraying the young boy who deserved it the least. Then the numbing agony of the years that followed torn equally between despair, loss, and terror only to be broken up by literal death.
There had been so much Shen Qingqiu didn’t know, couldn’t have known back then when he made the choice to push Luo Binghe into the Endless Abyss. How could he have guessed the toll his choices would take on him and everyone around him? It’s not like he had anyone he could confide in, not even aware that Airplane-bro was—
Airplane-bro.
An idea was forming quickly in his mind as Shen Qingqiu stared at the unblackened protagonist, still yet to be hurt by so many of Shen Qingqiu’s actions and misunderstandings. It had taken a lot (far too much) pain for him to get his happily ever after, but he did get there in the end. Maybe he could make the road a little easier for another version of himself and his husband.
“To answer your question, we are in the palace of the current sovereign of the demon realm, who just so happens to be my husband.”
Luo Binghe physically staggered at the words. “Wh-what? I mean, begging Shizun’s pardon but—”
“None of that now,” Shen Qingqiu steadied him with a soft hand, mind racing through all the possibilities. “We don’t have time to delay. Binghe should take a moment to collect himself while this master briefly sees to official matters for his husband. Once that is taken care of, we will track down your Shang-shishu and see if we can ensure Binghe is prepared for the next ten years.” Hopefully with many changes.
“Shizun!”
“Binghe should stay here as this master’s husband’s staff may not react well to the change in appearance.” For all that Luo Bingge had qi deviations with interesting results with some regularity, the better cultivation base Shen Yuan provided him and the lack of Xin Mo eliminated such occurrences. He turned away and sat down to put his hair up, only to pause as he caught the besieged look on his disciple’s face in the bronze mirror.
It occurred to him that he was assuming quite a bit about what Luo Binghe would want from this experience. No matter how much he felt he knew the boy and the man he could become, it wasn’t actually his choice.
Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat and said, “Of course, Binghe need not do anything. It has been many years since this one was worthy of calling him his disciple. Binghe may not want to know of his future or may choose to stay away from this master—”
“No!” Luo Binghe interrupted, clamoring to come to Shen Qingqiu’s side, horrified at the implication. “This disciple’s greatest wish is to be by Shizun’s side always, with no greater honor possible than being able to call his master his spouse. If there is anything Shizun can share with this lowly one will help him win his regard when this one returns to his own time, this disciple is eager to learn.”
Shen Qingqiu couldn’t stop a small smile from gracing his lips as he regarded Luo Binghe’s determined face. Goodness, but he had missed this small bun. “Alright, Binghe. This master understands.”
He reached for a comb, only to be stopped by too solicitous hands. “Please, Shizun, allow this one to assist with your hair.”
He thought about protesting but decided against it because a.) it was a task his husband usually helped him with anyway and he was out of practice dealing with it himself, b.) it would be far from the first time even this white lotus had helped him with such a task, though he hadn’t realized the intimacy of it until after the Immortal Alliance Conference, and c.) he really hated handling his nearly knee-length hair on his own.
It probably wouldn’t do to encourage the teenager on his affections, but they were already at this point. He had seen him wake up naked beside him. He knew they were married in the future. What was a little personal grooming after that? “If Binghe does not mind.”
“Thanking Shizun for the privilege,” Luo Binghe answered softly.
As he worked quietly, lost in his task, Shen Qingqiu was mentally going over everything they had to touch on in the short time frame. He knew he would be making trouble for the other version of himself, that the young protagonist likely wouldn’t be able to hide the impact of this visit in how he treated his teacher.
Then again, he was 110% sure his husband was wrecking his own brand of havoc on a younger version of himself. He looked again at the boy focused on his hair and internally winced. Yes, Shen Qingqiu had no doubt he was getting the more peaceful end of this experience. Hopefully the foreknowledge Luo Binghe would walk away with would be enough to make up for whatever his husband was doing to a younger Shen Qingqiu’s peaceful existence.