Chapter Text
【 Sending data packet: user_001… 】
【 … 】
【 Error: failure to load (blocked by client) 】
【 Rerouting… 】
【 … 】
【 Error: failure to load (blocked by client) 】
【 … 】
【 Backing up unsent data packet 】
【 Dual transmigrator plot status: disrupted 】
【 … 】
【 Accessing user_000.memory(discarded) 】
【 … 】
【 Initiating emergency protocol 116-116: 102.105.120.105.116 】
【 Populating route 】
【 Loading item 】
【 … 】
【 Item successfully loaded - protocol will initiate when activated 】
↻『-XX ⴵ -XX』↺
Luo Binghe was tired. He stood outside a door. Iron on his tongue, he spat the mouthful of blood on the ground - certain not to let it anywhere near the bowl in his arms. Then he entered the cold chamber.
“Shizun, this disciple apologises. Liu Qingge is being as troublesome as ever.” Three years and the man refused to quit… Luo Binghe could empathise to a degree, but it was still so vilely shortsighted of him to hinder Luo Binghe’s efforts so. “Rest assured, he will not take Shizun.” He walked over to the still body, churning his qi in preparation to be poured out. The closer he got, the less possible it always became to believe Shen Qingqiu was only sleeping. He placed down the meal in the same place as usual.
Attempting to steel himself - (failing as miserably as ever) - Luo Binghe gently untied the sash and opened his Shizun’s robes. He laid down and started pushing his energy into Shen Qingqiu’s body. The qi weaved its way through those meridians he’d painstakingly rebuilt. Slowly, the damage sustained since the previous night unravelled. So did Luo Binghe.
Once the process was complete, he laid there for a moment. The cold, heavy weight in his arms did nothing to soothe his heart. He pressed his lips together.
Eventually, he carefully re-dressed Shizun’s body and arranged him neatly. Luo Binghe stood and exited the chambers. He made sure to strengthen the wards before he left. They would do little if Liu Qingge - or somebody as powerful as him - made it that far, but offered protection from any other lower-level threats that might try to sneak in.
As he strode down the palace halls, somebody approached him. A short demon, visibly trembling, stood before him. She seemed hesitant to draw his attention, but did so anyway. “L-Lord Luo?”
“What.”
“A-apologies for disturbing the lord. Advisor Shang ordered this lowly one to inform Lord Luo that a- that one of the lord’s vassals has produced an artefact as an offering,” she snivelled. Looking closer, he thought he recognised her; one of Sha Hualing’s minions. Yet she was taking orders from the treacherous peak lord?
“Why am I being bothered about this?” he asked blandly, crossing his arms.
“Ah- Advisor Shang said he believed the artefact’s properties would be of great interest to Lord Luo.” It was markedly suspicious. Even knowing that, Luo Binghe could not contain the flicker of hope within.
“Dismissed,” he said simply, waving a hand and walking away.
Best to investigate this, in case the unlikely occurred and it was indeed something significant. He softened his footsteps to the point of silence. Nobody could be heard from outside the room Mobei-jun kept his pet spy in when called to Huan Hua Palace.
Keeping quiet, Luo Binghe chose to use Xin Mo to take a portal inside, rather than opening his door. Shang Qinghua’s weaselly voice was audible as he muttered to himself. Using his denonic qi, Luo Binghe hid himself in the rooms shadows and listened in.
“... can’t believe I have to do this. That wasn’t even meant to be here, it was only from an idea that went nowhere for a stupid anon crack fanfi-AH!” Shang Qinghua flinched and turned to stare at Luo Binghe. Perhaps he should have expected this and hidden himself better; the man was so jittery and hypervigilant about powerful demons. At least he was secure in the fact that the little man was a coward, whose lips loosened dramatically when he felt even slightly threatened.
“What is this artefact, deemed so significant it demanded I be interrupted?” asked Luo Binghe, narrowing his eyes at Shang Qinghua. The man shuddered.
“A-ah, this,” Shang Qinghua scrambled through the mess on his desk to show whatever item it was. He produced a dizi flute, notable only for the fact that it was an unnaturally vivid blue.
Shang Qinghua cowered slightly at his blank stare. “... Go on.” He prompted.
“It’s an heirloom, gifted by Fengsheng-jun, leader of the isolated Weishi clan.[1] The envoy said it was passed down and kept safe by her royal lineage. Apparently it can be used to access a secret realm which holds an … item, of even greater power. It’s destined to be used by the one who claims Xin Mo from the Abyss … which refers to Lord Luo of course. They had only just heard that Lord Luo wields it.”
Luo Binghe sighed. Couldn’t anybody just be direct? He furrowed his brow - Shang Qinghua squeaked. “Why should I care?”
For a moment, Mobei's fool stared gormlessly. Then he winced and said: “Ah, its name is the Flute of the Fractured Past. Another use it has is that, supposedly, if one plays a certain song with it, time will reverse itself … in a way.”
Now his interest was firmly caught. “ ‘In a way’ ?”
“The soul of the one who plays the song will be lifted and placed in the past. Everyone they know will be present but, as the tale goes, the world will change. Certain things will twist around, distorted from what they once were to the point of barely being recognisable. Only those whose souls are brought to this distorted past by the song will remember anything of this life, from before the song resets it.” In other words, if Luo Binghe chose to use this thing, he might get Shizun back, but the man will not remember him as he is. Unless…
“Shang Qinghua said ‘souls’. Plural.”
“Ah, supposedly if Lord Luo were to release the power contained in that hidden realm, it would latch to three souls: Lord Luo’s own of course; somebody he knows, whose knowledge and insight span untold depths; and somebody else he knows who holds true, hidden power. These three souls would be linked together, meaning if Lord Luo used the flute, the two others would also recall their time in this life up to that point. Since souls are referred to, not people, this one suspects it would include … departed souls.” Luo Binghe’s mind races. He takes the instrument and turns it in his hand.
Essentially, if Luo Binghe were to use this, he would be gambling on the fact that Shen Qingqiu would be the one selected by this mysterious power. It was true that he held his shizun’s wisdom in high regard, and the man was nothing if not cloaked in mystery, but did he trust this unknown force to select him as the obvious choice. And speaking of trust …
His eyes slid to the man, levelling him an intensely blank stare. “How does Shang Qinghua know all this?”
“Th-the envoy who delivered the flute explained it all.”
One eyebrow raised skeptically had the man trembling. “And Shang Qinghua was able to recall all of those details?”
“Okay, okay, I ripp- I have read about such a legend before. It was interesting - I didn’t think it would turn out to be real here! I really thought it was all just fiction, or I would have mentioned it when Lord Luo was seeking- I definitely would have mentioned.” Shang Qinghua blurted out his explanation in a panic. The insistence that he would have told Luo Binghe of this artefact was hard to believe, but the rest rang surprisingly honest for the slimy man. He hadn’t even needed to explicitly make any threats.
Luo Binghe kept up the stare, just to make him squirm a little - it wouldn’t do for Mobei-jun’s rat to get too comfortable. “And what is the song that will do all that if I were to play it?”
“Ah, of course,” Shang Qinghua turned and scurried back to his desk to pull through some papers. “They actually left quite detailed instructions - here!” He turned around, holding a sheaf of pages. “It’s basically a whole manual for how to play music on it… This lowly one wrote a translation of that specific tune into the musical notation used on Qing Jing peak.” Luo Binghe did not particularly appreciate the implication that he couldn’t have learnt it from the instructions given. He didn’t feel strongly enough about it to do anything though; he was mainly surprised that Shang Qinghua even knew musical notation.
Without another word, he took the papers from Shang Qinghua’s hand and swept out of the door. Luo Binghe stalked to the Palace Master chambers. The rooms were technically his own, having … dealt with Huan Hua Palace’s previous leader.
He strode past, to the rooms he actually used. The door was concealed with precise wards, which only he could walk through at the moment; anyone seeking his attention would have to shout through the neighbouring door, and the sound would transport across.
He set the flute and accompanying papers down on his own cluttered desk. Luo Binghe stared at it. Its function felt simultaneously like a final lifeline and a surrender. He’d found plenty of leads for a way to bring Shen Qingqiu’s soul back to the carefully protected body… At the same time, he had discovered a near equal amount of them to definitively be myths. So many years and he hadn’t succeeded.
All this time, he hadn’t been able to even make contact with Shen Qingqiu’s departed spirit - no matter the method he used. At first, it had seemed crushingly likely that the man refused to speak to him, even in death. But even as, in his desperation, Luo Binghe resorted to practices touted by less reputable sources - the kinds that didn’t need a spirit to necessarily be willing to appear, to have them appear - he had no luck. He couldn’t help worrying that if he waited too long, Shizun’s soul would be too far gone.
Luo Binghe left it in the room for now, returning to his seemingly endless work. He did happen to acquire a similarly sized dizi flute and start practising it - only in the evenings, when other things were over with.
Again and again, he found some ritual and it failed. He fought Liu Qingge and sent him away again. He poured all his energy into his Shizun’s body. Luo Binghe tried his best to keep going, but there was a world of difference between trying to dig through an impenetrable wall with your fingers, and doing the same when the wall had an open gate in sight. Luo Binghe practised playing that song, simply titled the tune of time, and despaired; he was unable to find even a wisp of Shen Qingqiu’s soul in his all his efforts.
One night, he tried playing a little tune on the actual mystical flute. It fit in his hands naturally, like it was molded to them. The notes sung out supernaturally sonorous. Tones that penetrated down to his bones, scratching some itch he’d had all his life and never noticed. He put it down - temptation too strong to resist with it so close - and left to pore over the latest load of books and scrolls delivered. Xin Mo was used to travel far across the realms, investigating anything with potential. Every time, it was proven a hoax and he returned with hours to spare before Liu Qingge launched another attack. Luo Binghe was tired.
One week later, laying next to Shen Qingqiu’s cold, lifeless body, Luo Binghe folded.
He brought the flute with him the very next day, stood over his Shizun and took a steady breath. Flute held beside his mouth, Luo Binghe closed his eyes.
The notes echoed in the cold chambers. A lonely, arcane tune penetrated deep into his soul. It resonated across the room, echoing as if the very walls were singing alongside. As Luo Binghe’s fingers danced across the flute, he could feel something welling up inside him - like power, like pain, like relief, finally, after so long.
He opened his eyes and his vision was flooded with a green glow, surrounding him. Luo Binghe kept playing. The light grew brighter and brighter, and for a split second, he swore he saw a blue aura surrounding the body before him.
Then his vision faded entirely.
↻『-05 ⴵ -05』↺
【 Transferring selected packets to backup storage 】
【 Generating methodology (seed = Luo Binghe) 】
【 Initiating procedure… 】
【 Modifying base files: reverse([QJ_gen0, QJ_gen1]) 】
【 Reinserting stored data... 】
【 … 】
【 Error: conflicting files 】
【 Unable to reinsert souls in storage 】
【 Modifying base files: SVSJ.location = QDP 】
【 Overriding (Error: age disparity), selecting backstory 】
【 Creating new account in QJ_gen0 】
【 Reinserting stored data… 】
【 … 】
【 Dual transmigrator plot successfully reinstated! 】
↻『00 ⴵ 00』↺
Just starting to wake, Shen Qingqiu rolled over. His body was heavy and his eyes wettened. So that’s it. To Luo Binghe - and the rest of the world - I’m dead.
He felt as though he had been knocked out by a massive boulder, lobbed at his head. What sort of raw deal was this? He’d left one body broken down and dying in Hua Yue city, but he shouldn’t have still been feeling it. This body was brand new! Sure, he might expect a little tiredness, but nothing this bad.
He tried to pull away from sleep. It took a great deal of focus. The soft bed beneath him was too comfortable, the light barely enough to poke at him through his eyelids. Only his mind, sluggish as it was, kept him from going straight back under. Eventually he managed to wrench his eyes open and sat up.
Just as he thought he shouldn’t be able to do that, the sight that greeted him had Shen Qingqiu stunned; why had he woken up in one of the patient beds at Qian Cao peak?! Did they heal his self-detonation somehow? He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something felt off…
He’d never actually stayed the night here before, usually being brought to heal in his own bed in the Bamboo House - as per what he assumed was the original goods’ preference. Had Qian Cao always had beds this large? Maybe the softening light of the early evening had just cast the vaguely familiar location with a strange atmosphere.
Footsteps drew Shen Qingqiu’s attention. A young man walked in. Shen Qingqiu didn’t recognise him. He wore disciples’ robes and his eyes were on the papers in his hand. This had to be one of the healing peak’s senior disciples. After stepping in, he looked up at Shen Qingqiu and did a double take. “Shen-shixiong finally woke up?”
Who’s your shixiong, young man?
Shen Qingqiu didn’t correct him; surely the poor boy just misspoke. It’d be needlessly cruel to point it out, just to embarrass him.
“Does Shixiong have any dizziness? Nausea? Is the light too bright?”
“... Only a little tiredness,” replied Shen Qingqiu. Was this disciple really just going to refer to a peak lord as his shixiong? Surely an older disciple should know better. Had he not recognised him? Shen Qingqiu got an odd feeling in his stomach.
“Hmm…” The disciple came closer and held out his finger, right in Shen Qingqiu’s face. “Could Shixiong keep his eye on the tip of this Shidi’s finger?” He started moving his finger back and forth. Shen Qingqiu was getting more and more concerned. If he was here somehow being treated for his self-detonation, he doubted the first thing done when he woke would be testing him for a concussion! Shen Qingqiu did as instructed until the disciple paused and gave a non-specific hum. He grew more and more concerned as he kept noticing things that didn’t add up.
Noticing his distress, the disciple seemingly decided to soothe what he thought Shen Qingqiu was worried about. “Shen-shixiong’s shizun is already healed by now.” And that confirmed the growing concern in the back of his mind.
Looking down to be sure, he was indeed wearing a set of disciple’s robes of his own. Qing Jing ones. He’d self-detonated, fully expecting to wake up alive again in that Sun-Moon Dew Mushroom body of his. Instead, it appeared something had gone wrong; he’d transmigrated again! He didn’t remember any disciples who shared the name ‘Shen’ on his peak. Had he transmigrated into an even younger Shen Qingqiu? Was he ‘Shen Jiu’ now?
“Shixiong should take care not to strain himself and get plenty of rest,” said the disciple, eyeing him. After a moment, he nodded to himself. “This one will fetch Shen-shixiong some water.” As he left the room, Shen Qingqiu grimaced. This whole situation was too big a dose of déjà vu.
He needed to know more, now. “... System?”
【 Issue resolved! You have successfully been reassigned. Bound Role: Qing Jing Peak inner disciple “Shen Yuan.” Weapon: spiritual sword Fang Zhi 】
That whole song and dance was almost exactly the same as the last time he’d transmigrated! There was a huge array of things to address here, but something made him suspicious immediately.
“How many B-Points do I have right now?”
A worrying mechanical whirring sound emanated before it responded.
【 Troubleshooting… 】
“Troubleshooting what? What happened?!”
【 The System is reconfiguring. Please be patient… 】
Fuck your mother!
Shen Qingqiu - ah, except apparently it was back to Shen Yuan again - buried his face in his hands. He was on Qian Cao, was a Qing Jing disciple, so he hadn’t transmigrated into a different novel. But there were definitely no mentions of Luo Binghe having any shixiongs who shared his old name!
“Shen-shixiong!” the disciple from before called as he walked in, rushing over and handing Shen Yuan a cup of water. Just as he took a sip, the young man sat on a small chair before him and spoke. “This one forgot to ask, how much does Shixiong remember of before he fell unconscious?”
…
What? Because he refused to submit to cliché and claim memory loss the first time around, it was being forced on him? “... Nothing. This shixiong doesn’t remember what happened.”
The Qian Cao disciple eyed him. “Can Shixiong tell me his name?”
Easy enough. “Shen Yuan.”
“Mn. What about his peak?”
Another simple answer. “Qing Jing”
“The head disciple of his peak?”
Fuck. Was it Ming Fan? This was apparently an alternate universe with a Qing Jing disciple he didn’t remember - hell maybe it was an entirely different Cang Qiong generation. Was it even safe to make a guess? “This one doesn’t know who it is.”
That face was starting to tense up, as if suppressing his reaction. “There is no head disciple chosen on Qing Jing.” A trick question?! How low of him. “Does Shixiong … remember the names of any of the other disciples of his peak?”
Again, a question he didn’t feel good about guessing. If he said one of his own disciples’ names from his life just before and was wrong, it’d look a lot worse than if he just couldn’t remember. “... This shixiong doesn’t know.”
A grim look appeared on the youth’s face. “... Amnesia is not wholly unusual for such a serious concussion. Shixiong was injured, alongside his shizun, on the mission. A large group was sent, and both were struck by a beast throwing boulders around. Luckily, the other supervising peak lord was able to defeat the beast and the demonic cultivator commanding it, and bring both Shibo and Shixiong back for treatment.”
Hmm. Well that certainly explained why his head felt like it had been bashed with a boulder. At least he couldn’t feel too shamed by this embarrassingly cartoonish sounding defeat, which he was now seen as the sufferer of; it must have been formidable to take out the Qing Jing peak lord as well! … Whoever they were in this strange world. Before he could guess, a certain voice interrupted.
【 Reconfiguration complete! 】
“What ‘reconfiguration’ exactly? And why was it triggered by me asking about my points?”
【 This System has been upgraded! Welcome to the Self-Insert AU System! Due to changes in the story and this System’s primary objective, the ‘B-Point collection’ feature has been cut. 】
“... Does that mean there’s some other feature to threaten me with getting shoved into a dead body?” He asked suspiciously.
【 Due to certain backup protocols, user account 001 - Peerless Cucumber’s status is now locked to Resident. Account unable to be terminated manually. User’s actions will not lead to point deductions or System punishments. However, this System has certain additional parameters - more events and items which the user may automatically trigger with his actions. 】
In other words, it sounded like the System wouldn’t be threatening him with B-Points to directly control his behaviour. But in fact at any point, some ‘item’ or ‘event’ could be triggered if he did something horribly wrong by its standards. By now he knew enough about the System to see the way it tried to frame something so potentially ominous in such a vague way.
“Would leaving the sect straight away trigger something?” Not that he was planning to, he just wanted to see if this more ‘laid back’ System would actually tell him anything useful.
【 … Calculating. 】
【 Based on user’s current level of cultivation, and depending on the way user leaves, several events and items may activate, including: Manhunt (Finding My Runaway, Idiot Disciple); Starvation, All Alone; Demonic Cultivators Take Advantage And Harvest The Naive, Pure Golden Core?; Dogblood Scenario Pusher IIX; Whump Scenario Pusher III; etc. 】
… Well. At least it actually answered him.
“Shen-shixiong?” Asked the young man still sitting by his bed. Shen Yuan took another sip of water before he answered.
“Ah, this one apologises to, um, Shidi.” Well, if he was going the amnesia route anyway, he might as well commit. “This one was trying to recall… This one was trying to remember what happened.” At this, the healer’s face became much more concerned.
“... This Hou Xia will look into ways to aid Shen-shixiong’s recovery, but memory loss in circumstances such as these can be permanent.”
It sounded a little awkward, but this shixiong appreciates you seemingly reintroducing yourself while still saving him face! Though Shen Yuan didn’t want this helpful disciple to exert himself looking for a solution which, he expected, wouldn’t be found. “This one appreciates Hou-shidi’s care, but he doesn’t want to make a fuss. He will simply have to relearn plenty of things.”
“... If Shen-shixiong is certain.” Shen Yuan nodded. “Let this shidi examine Shen-shixiong’s meridians, to see if Shixiong needs to stay, or can return to his peak.”
He took the wrist when Shen Yuan offered it, and the probing qi surged into his spirit veins. It felt a lot more … intense than when Mu Qingfang had done this for him. Was it the difference between having a peak lord or a disciple examine you? Or the difference between being a disciple or a peak lord while being examined? The energy was crammed much more roughly through his spirit-veins.
Either way, Shen Yuan felt a little discomfort, but it was hardly enough to truly bother him. Between Without a Cure and having self-detonated within the last hour in his perception, this was a butterfly kiss!
“Shixiong should be fine to return to Qing Jing, so long as he does not overexert himself and returns if he starts to feel severely dizzy.”
“This shixiong understands.” He felt a rush of eagerness at the thought of getting to a familiar place. Then he realised he wasn't the peak lord anymore - no peaceful Bamboo Cottage for this measly disciple! It’d be a bed in the disciples’ dorms for him and he wouldn’t even know which one. Ah, at least he’d be back on the peak, even if it had felt less tranquil and more barren in the later years of his second life.
Hou Xia eyed him assessingly for a moment. “This one can walk Shen-shixiong back to his peak. Somebody there should be aware of Shixiong’s memory loss.”
Shen Yuan nodded. “Thanking Hou-shidi.”
Standing up, he had a brief headrush and wobbled a little. It cleared up quickly enough to not be worrying though - Hou Xia still noticed apparently, and reached out one arm to stabilise him. He flushed. Damnit, no more pre-installed peak lord poker-face either!
As he turned to go, Hou Xia had to point out the sheathed sword beside the bed to him. That must be Fang Zhi. The sword the System mentioned. Its name was fine, if a bit on the nose for a sword belonging to a disciple of the scholarly peak.[2] Shen Yuan picked up the sword. His new shidi linked arms with him - how polite! Risking appearing a bit childish, just so Shen Yuan wouldn’t trip himself over and make his injuries worse. The two disciples set off to the second peak. They took the rainbow bridges rather than flying - Hou Xia was probably still cautious about Shen Yuan’s sense of balance.
It was a pleasant enough walk, even if Shen Yuan couldn’t bring himself to appreciate it right now. Too many questions were buzzing through his mind.
As they approached the entrance of Qing Jing peak, he could see one of the disciples practicing sword-forms. Odd. It was rather late and… There are definitely proper areas for that. When he noticed the pair approaching, the disciple jogged over.
He was quite tall - Shen Yuan suddenly cursed the fact that he didn’t have a peak lord’s grand stature anymore. In fact, he was pretty sure this body was just a clone of his own pre-transmigration, only with longer hair and slightly less twiggy arms. Among normal people he was average height, so among cultivators of course, he felt tiny! Aren’t I supposed to be a cultivator too, here? What a scam!
“Shidi!” The approaching disciple called out, waving. For some reason, his face was just a little familiar to Shen Yuan, though he couldn’t say he knew the man’s name. He looked back and forth between Shen Yuan and Hou Xia. “Are you recovered now?”
Before Shen Yuan could answer, Hou Xia spoke. “Shen-shixiong is well enough to return to his peak. However, he has suffered some amount of memory loss… It seems quite significant.” Shen Yuan looked away and flushed. Way to immediately air me out, Hou-shidi!
“Really?” The Qing Jing disciple stared at him. Shen Yuan stared blankly back - the other looked a little spooked. “You-... Shen-shidi doesn’t recognise me at all, does he?”
Feeling embarrassed (for no logical reason!), Shen Yuan shook his head and averted his eyes. A moment of awkward silence passed and Shen Yuan realised something. Was that shixiong practicing by the entrance for a reason? Diligently awaiting his shidi’s return, just to make sure he was returned to the peak safely? Only for said shidi to turn up clearly not even knowing his dedicated shixiong's name! Shen Yuan really wished he weren’t the one caught up in this scene, so tragically awkward it was almost funny from an outside perspective.
“Ah… Well, this shixiong is Liao Chi.” He shuffled on the spot. This name jogged Shen Yuan’s memory; didn't this Qing Jing shixiong's face resemble Hallmaster Liao? Almost identically, save for being younger! Shen Qingqiu had never actually learnt the man’s full name, since he'd seemed to feel quite cold towards him. The man had been one of the main teachers on Qing Jing - by the time Shen Qingqiu had repaired the original goods’ horrible relation from animosity to polite acquaintance to the peak’s other teachers, it had felt too awkward to ask his full name. The disciple before him didn't look at Shen Yuan coldly- Liao Chi just seemed a little shocked. “When Shidi says Shen-shidi’s memory loss is bad…”
Shen Yuan coughed awkwardly. “I don’t know how much I don’t remember, Liao-shixiong, but I don’t think I remember a good amount.”
Seemingly deciding to brush over the oddness, Liao Chi tapped his chin. His brows furrowed, then relaxed and he nodded. “Shen-shidi, if you need guidance at all, you can rely on this shixiong!” The offer was made with such firm dedication that Shen Yuan could have shed a tear.
“Then I’ll be in Shixiong’s care,” he replied with a little smile, glad to have arrived to such a great martial brother. Even if his presence felt like a sure sign that none of Shen Qingqiu’s disciples would be on the mountain.
Liao Chi smiled back at him. Looking at his bright eyes caused a pain in Shen Yuan’s chest. He had to turn away. When Liao Chi spoke next, it wasn’t directed at Shen Yuan, but at Hou Xia. “Will Mu-shishu be visiting the peak again soon?”
Ah! A clue! So Mu Qingfang was still the Qian Cao peak lord? Then he hadn’t been sent back to a past generation of Qing Jing… But if he was a Qing Jing peak disciple, of the Qing generation of peak lords, did that mean his Shizun was-
“This one doesn’t believe so. Luo-shibo already came out of seclusion didn’t he?”
Luo. SHIBO?!?!
…
... Surely not?
Shen Yuan was in a state of shock as the two finished their conversation, and Liao Chi led him to the disciples’ quarters. Even when he was laying in bed, his mind kept racing. What sort of crack AU is this?