Chapter Text
Liu Qingge wakes from the strangest fever dream he's ever experienced, alone in the Lingxi caves. His entire body aches, agony radiating along the lines of his meridians. His throat is raw- like he's been screaming and screaming. He's lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, limbs too exhausted to move and the scent of blood in the air- but all he can think about is the horrifyingly realistic and completely nonsensical dream he just experienced. He had been cradled in the arms of- his whole body recoils to recall it- Shen Qingqiu; and mere paces away had been a stunningly beautiful man, tall with curling hair and dark robes and a frown of concentration between his brows. He was so handsome, in fact, that Liu Qingge was barely surprised when a red demon mark flared into existence right on top of that wrinkle, dark energy billowing out of him. Such exquisite looks as his could only be suspicious.
"Hold him still," the man had murmured, and Liu Qingge realized that he'd been struggling, thrashing in Shen Qingqiu's arms. His acupoints were struck, and the demon walked towards him, steps slow and measured. Liu Qingge gaped up at him, eyes wide- unmoving, he could now feel an unfamiliar pull on his energy, as if he was connected by thin threads to something invisible that forced his body to react. The connection didn't feel bad, or wrong; it felt whole, like it was a part of him. But what part of him could cause him to be shuddering like this, panting and sweating and on the edge of-
"Liu shidi should be almost done over there," Shen Qingqiu muttered, arms readjusting Liu Qingge. Liu Qingge had a moment to remember his indignation before the demon stooped down, long hair swinging down to fall in a curtain to each side of his face. Those beautiful eyes regarded Liu Qingge, calm and cool; his lips parted.
"I'll send him back now," the demon murmured. "He's safe."
Safe? What did the demon mean, safe? Liu Qingge opened his mouth to demand an answer, but his lips were plugged by something soft, the demon's face so close he could count each eyelash, something wet and firm licking its way inside his mouth and demonic energy washing over his body-
Liu Qingge had opened his eyes, and found himself on the floor of the Lingxi caves, reeling with the evidence of a narrowly avoided qi deviation.
"What is the meaning of all this yelling?!” a haughty voice comes, preceding the last person Liu Qingge would like to see. The swish of green robes makes his body tingle unpleasantly with the memory of having been clutched in that snake’s grasp in his dream. Shen Qingqiu strides into the room and stops abruptly when he sees Liu Qingge laid out on the ground. He snaps his fan open in front of his face; and, when Liu Qingge fails to stand, moves slowly closer. It feels like being stalked by a vulture, ready to feast on his unguarded corpse. Liu Qingge attempts to gather his spiritual energy to rise to his feet; but he’s still too weak. Shen Qingqiu looks down at him from above, sneering and judgmental- stoops to drop a cloth over Liu Qingge’s wrist and take his pulse. Too prissy to dirty his fingers touching Liu Qingge’s skin. Not like the strange Shen Qingqiu in that dream, who held Liu Qingge close like they were-
Liu Qingge’s skin crawls. He attempts to rise again, to pull away from Shen Qingqiu’s touch; fails.
“What a mess you’ve made of yourself,” Shen Qingqiu sneers, taking his hand back. “You’re lucky you aren’t dead.”
Liu Qingge glares at him as fiercely as he can from his place on the floor. The brief moment where he wondered if perhaps the events of his dream were laced with reality- he discards the thought, infuriated with himself for even imagining it. Of course Shen Qingqiu would never hold him gently; of course he would never work with a demon. Not even to save Liu Qingge’s life. And that’s as it should be; demons are untrustworthy, too dangerous. Even beautiful ones.
“You won’t die now,” Shen Qingqiu huffs. “Do try to be quiet this time- some of us are trying to improve our cultivation, not destroy ourselves.” He turns and sweeps back out of the cave, and Liu Qingge is left on his back, still breathing hard and glaring daggers at the ceiling.
—
Over the years, he tries to forget about the dream; but something in it has its claws in him. There’s no whisper of it in the waking world, but when he sleeps… when he sleeps, he can feel his mind reaching out, seeking the connection that saved his life. It doesn’t exist, of course- it was a delusion brought on by the qi deviation. He tells himself this, over and over, as he wakes- and then one night, it feels just as real as it did before. The demon appears before him in the form of a Cang Qiong disciple, disguised by youth and a human form- but Liu Qingge recognizes him. Of course, he recognizes him.
“Demon,” he says, eyes narrowing. The demon’s eyes widen; his mouth opens. No words come out before he drops to his knees, raising his hands formally.
“Begging shishu’s indulgence,” he says, hands shaking where they’re raised. “This disciple… is not a demon.”
Liu Qingge sneers. A nice ploy; but he’s seen his real form before. This disguise won’t serve him, nor will his ridiculous play acting. “What are you trying to do?” he demands, hand falling to Cheng Luan. The demon glances up, startled, and Cheng Luan’s pommel disappears from beneath Liu Qingge’s hand, its weight from his hip. A problem. Liu Qingge looks around, eyes narrowed- this is a dream. The demon can control everything in here.
“Release me, demon!” he snarls, and the demon gasps and ducks his head and-
Liu Qingge wakes up.
He slams his head against the pillow, baring his teeth at the ceiling. It actually released him- now how is he supposed to get his answers?
—
Over the years, Liu Qingge meets the demon in dreams again and again. It slowly drops its veneer of youthful innocence- becomes more frustrated, more emotional. The facade of a perfect disciple- and why is it trying to present itself as a disciple, when he’s already seen through it?- cracks, showing the rage beneath.
“Why are you doing this?!” the demon cries, sword shattering in his hand under the onslaught of Cheng Luan. Its voice sounds tear stained; it always does, when Liu Qingge tries to kill it in dreams. After long enough, it stopped choosing to take Cheng Luan from him, or stopped being able to- he’s not sure which. Now, they fight each time he awakens in the dream. “Are demons really so irredeemable?”
Why is Liu Qingge doing this? “You draw me into your dreams,” Liu Qingge snarls, another slice of Cheng Luan meeting the new sword that the demon summoned, sending flashes of sparks from the blades. “You present yourself in this foul disguise-” a sweep of the demon’s blade fails to land a hit. “And you dared-”
The moments before he awoke in the Lingxi caves flash in his mind again, making his anger flare bright and hot. He drives forward, steel clashing against steel, the demon barely managing to meet his strikes. In all their duels, there’s been no sign of the overwhelming demonic power that he sensed from it the first time they met; only its basic sword forms, mimicking those of Cang Qiong, improving over time. There’s something off with the base of its cultivation, though; as if it’s studied Cang Qiong’s style incorrectly, a fundamental flaw in the foundation threatening to tear the whole structure down. The fault in its disguise.
“I don’t bring you in on purpose!” the demon protests, scrambling back a step to avoid Liu Qingge’s flashing blade. “Shishu, I-”
“Don’t call me that!” Liu Qingge shouts, driving the demon back another step with a palm strike. He chases it, forcing its retreat. It meets his blade- once, twice, three times- but the fourth breaks through its guard, sending it sprawling to the ground. It looks up, eyes tear-filled, as Liu Qingge raises Cheng Luan to drive into its chest-
The moment the point penetrates, Liu Qingge wakes up, heaving to sitting with a shout. He slams his hand into the bedcovers in frustration, gritting his teeth.
Another night of failing to kill it.
—
The dreams don’t stop until the disaster of the Immortal Alliance Conference. In the chaos and horror of the clean up- pulling disciples’ bodies out from under those of slain monsters, retrieving parts when that’s all that can be found- Liu Qingge doesn’t sleep for days; and when he does, it’s dreamless. It takes him a while to notice that the demon hasn’t returned.
Years pass; life goes on. Mingyan grows stronger, while Shen Qingqiu is just as venomous as ever. Liu Qingge, after being cleared of possession by Mu Qingfang when the dreams first started, has never broached the subject with Shen Qingqiu of how he acted in that first dream. The demon was real. Could that mean…?
But it’s useless to hypothesize; Shen Qingqiu has given no indication that he remembers anything from that time except for finding Liu Qingge bleeding all over himself in the cave, if his pointed digs are to be believed. Liu Qingge ignores him as best he can- until it all comes out.
The accusations; the trial. Yue Qingyuan proclaims Shen Qingqiu’s innocence, of course, and Liu Qingge keeps his doubts quiet. They are a sect; they must present a united front. But all of that falls away when he sees the people making the accusations.
She’s quite old enough to be Shen Qingqiu’s peer, though the age barely shows on her face. She clings to the arm of Huan Hua’s new head disciple- one who appeared out of nowhere, if the rumors are to be believed, a few years ago- as she makes her tearful accusations. A betrothal; a massacre; a fire. Liu Qingge can’t spare more than an eye for her, though, because his gaze is stuck on the young man she clings to. His chin is held high; his gaze is icy on Shen Qingqiu. On his other side lurks the little palace mistress, pressed up just as closely against him, occasionally shooting venomous looks at the other woman. The head disciple spares no glance at either of them- only watches the Qing Jing peak lord, though Shen Qingqiu doesn’t return his look. His face is that of the demon that’s long since stopped haunting Liu Qingge’s dreams. But he recognizes him, of course; he can do nothing but recognize him.
Liu Qingge waits until the first day of the trial ends and hunts him to an abandoned field nearby. When they’re out of sight of the makeshift village that’s sprung up around the temporary court- held on neutral ground in the wilderness between sects- the demon turns around and smiles at him- as if it’s him who’s led Liu Qingge here. It’s a cool, unkind smile. Liu Qingge unmasks his presence, stepping forward with sword bared.
“Hello,” the demon murmurs. “It’s been a long time.”
“I’ve finally caught you,” Liu Qingge says, sending a frisson of spiritual power down Cheng Luan’s blade to fortify it in preparation of the first strike. “You thought I wouldn’t know you?”
“You plan to reveal me this time, then, shishu?” the demon asks, tilting his head with a faint smile. Liu Qingge narrows his eyes, stepping forward.
“I’ve never fallen for your foolish disguise,” he grits out. “You finally show yourself in person, and you’re still playing at your games?”
“Finally?” the demon says curiously. He tilts his head, making the loose, curling bangs by his face swing. “What about all the other times? You never had anything to say about me then.”
“Other times?” Liu Qingge repeats, frowning- a foolish mistake. He can’t afford to let the demon lead him by the nose- he shouldn’t give it an opening to lie.
“Did you forget?” the demon asks, a look of incredulity spreading across its face. “We’ve met many times in the waking world. You saved my life, once.”
“No I didn’t,” Liu Qingge snaps. He’s arguing with it- another mistake. “We’ve never met before.”
“I called you shishu every time we met,” the demon says, brows furrowing. “Awake, as well as in dreams. You never rejected me.”
Liu Qingge tightens his hand on Cheng Luan’s hilt. “Stop with your lies,” he spits, raising the sword in a straight line to point at the demon. “I’ll gut you here and now.”
“It’s not- oh,” the demon says, and he- drifts back, out of the way of Liu Qingge’s blade. It’s such an easy movement, so subtle, that Liu Qingge takes a moment to realize what’s happened. In that time the demon has stepped neatly behind him, sword still sheathed on his waist. “You haven’t changed, then, I take it.”
Liu Qingge narrows his eyes, taking a new stance. The demon’s skills have improved a great deal in the years he disappeared; but so have Liu Qingge’s. Spiritual energy flaring through Cheng Luan, he strikes- more quickly this time, more vicious. The demon’s attempt to dodge is too slow; he’s forced to draw his sword, the metal ringing under the hit of Liu Qingge’s blade. It’s good steel- but something is off about it, the note the slightest bit sour. Liu Qingge drives forward again, and that blade dips under his like water, lifting his strike off line so that it stabs the air over the demon’s shoulder. The demon’s hand has reached toward him in an instinctive movement, those brown eyes suddenly cold and dangerous, expression deadly. Liu Qingge leaps back, adrenaline flooding him, before it can connect, feeling a wisp of demonic energy trace across his robes. Those long fingers, clenched into claws, relax into an easy open hand again, a disarming smile painting itself across the demon’s face as a faint smell of char drifts up from the fabric above Liu Qingge’s stomach. From the other side of the low hill, a call of alarm- the demonic energy alerted them.
“How inconvenient,” the demon says, lips forming into a pout. “It’s not time for anyone but you and that lying snake to know about me.”
“You think that you’ll be able to stop us from capturing you?” Liu Qingge sneers, readying Cheng Luan again. He’ll have to finish this before anyone else arrives; maybe then he’ll have enough time to interrogate the demon about how he invaded his dreams- and find out who else knew about his demonic nature. Surely it wasn’t, like Liu Qingge suspected all those years ago…
He puts it out of his mind, scowling. The demon can’t distract him from the fight. Liu Qingge circles, putting the demon’s back at a rocky outcropping- preventing his escape. The demon just smiles, and moves back at the swing of Liu Qingge’s sword- moves back farther than he should be able to. He steps right through the rocks, that strange sword extended behind him and guiding his way- opening a path. Not one to be outdone, Liu Qingge pursues, extending Cheng Luan to skewer the demon’s shoulder-
It meets nothing. Liu Qingge’s feet- normally so sure- stumble; he’s no longer in the low valley outside the camp, soft earth decorated with sparse grass. He’s facing a steep slope, the demon above him, that sword turning to face Liu Qingge as he half falls on the sliding rocks and gravel. Liu Qingge hurriedly adjusts his stance, half turning so that he can pick up the terrain behind him in his peripheral vision- no sign of the valley they came from. There’s no time to wonder; the demon is upon him, and with the advantage of higher ground. That ominous sword rings against Cheng Luan, vibrating with the force of the blow, the sound yet more discordant. Liu Qingge snarls, deflecting the blade with a burst of spiritual energy, and falls into battle.
He and the demon chase each other up and down the barren, rocky slopes, qinggong barely preventing them from toppling off the unstable footing. Their blades meet- once, twice, a hundred times- in the span of seconds, free hands dancing in a flurry of strikes and blocks. Spiritual and demonic energy fill the air with hissing, crackling sparks, making the hair on Liu Qingge’s nape rise. His breathing quickens; his heart pumps, forceful and powerful.
This is a good fight.
The demon, driven back half a pace, grins at him, eyes wild as it meets Liu Qingge’s palm strike with one of its own. Their hands press into the air, held apart half an inch by the flare of white light where their energies meet. Liu Qingge’s arm trembles in mirror of the demon’s as they attempt to force their power past the other’s guard; but neither gives, their boots sliding in the loose gravel. Lips parting on a cry, Liu Qingge channels the remainder of his energy into Cheng Luan and sends it singing through the air, aiming for the demon’s heart.
A discordant clang; his blow has been blocked. The demon’s sword, vibrating in the air with the force of the strike, pulses and hums, the mask of disguise falling from it as Liu Qingge and the demon are blown back by the exchange of power. He braces himself against the treacherous rocks as he regains his feet, panting; what once appeared to be a spiritual weapon is now revealed. A vicious, degraded, toothed maw of a weapon, black and red and gleaming with the oily remnants of thick power. It bears large, gaping holes through it- like it’s been rusted, corroded by something truly terrible. It fairly moans with power.
“My charm,” the demon pouts, summoning the sword to his hand. It settles neatly into it, flaring with a dread energy; the pulse of it briefly reveals the red mark on the demon’s brow that Liu Qingge knew to look for. It’s gone in the next moment; but it was there. Just like in his dreams. He was right. “I’ll have to redo it before I return,” the demon sighs. The blade goes quiescent in his hand, the poisonous miasma of it draining away to hide somewhere within him.
“You still think you’ll be able to return anywhere?” Liu Qingge demands, standing up straight. Cheng Luan smacks back into his palm, pulsing with the excitement of battle. “I’ll kill you here and now, demon!”
The demon’s lips lift in a smile void of amusement; his fingers tighten almost imperceptibly on the hilt. “Just like you tried to, so many times in your dreams,” he says coolly. “When I was no more than a child. No sympathy in your heart whatsoever for someone like me, hm?”
“Stop talking and fight!” Liu Qingge snaps- but he’s let the demon speak for too long. He knows better- he should have known better. The first step he takes forward reveals his mistake.
The horrific power that disappeared from the sword hasn’t gone into the demon’s body- it’s been building below them, hidden by the rocky earth while the demon distracted him. Liu Qingge’s boot slides cautiously through the gravel, and the first brush of it- like a spider’s web- seizes him, the demonic energy lashing up his foot to hold him in place. There’s no time to break himself free; the demon has been waiting for this, already halfway to Liu Qingge before he can redirect Cheng Luan to rip the vicious red and black power from his ankle. He brings his blade up in a block, unable to stop the energy’s progression- feels it slither from his boot to his calf, further restricting his movement. The sword that collides with his screams with a power that sheers flakes off itself, demonic energy falling in thin sheets from the pulsing metal. Liu Qingge, unable to adjust his foot to deflect the strength of the attack, has no choice but to brace himself under it, meeting power with power and trying to force the demon back with brute strength.
It’s a losing battle. The demon doesn’t retreat- only bears down more forcibly, lips parted in a grimace of pleasure. The power at Liu Qingge’s feet yanks and strips at him, attempting to disrupt his stance; he channels his spiritual energy through him to force it off, but all that it produces is a violently loud whining scream from where his power presses out against the demonic energy, forcing bursts of release like steam escaping from a kettle. He can’t keep up the flow of it for long, while he’s directing so much spiritual energy into Cheng Luan; and he can’t fling the power off of himself. His arms hold steady on the blade, but a drop of sweat forms on his temple, beading down his cheek. The demon’s eyes watch its progression, grin distending his face.
“I’m too strong for you now, shishu,” he says gleefully- and Liu Qingge snarls and forces the totality of his spiritual energy through Cheng Luan.
The demon flies backward at the explosion of energy, crashing into the side of the rocky slope in a burst of dust and an avalanche of shale. Liu Qingge stumbles, snarling- he has to pursue the demon, take advantage of the moment that he’s knocked down. But the entanglement around his leg is still there, and he loses just enough time slicing it off with Cheng Luan that the demon has regained his feet before Liu Qingge can follow him for the final blow. The demon dusts himself off with cold fury, pebbles falling from his robes, and stalks towards Liu Qingge. Liu Qingge, panting, lets out a snarl of rage, fingers tightening on Cheng Luan.
“Is that the best you have?” the demon sneers, stepping slowly back in- like a predator maneuvering itself for the best leap. He’s seen the weakness in Liu Qingge, then- noticed that he’s momentarily exhausted his power. “Not wise, to make yourself so helpless in front of a demon.”
“Kill me if you can,” Liu Qingge snarls; and the demon’s face twists in an unpleasant expression.
“The war god of Bai Zhan,” he says, bitter and contemplative. “You think it’s your death I want? Very well, then.”
The demon raises a hand and vicious pressure presses in on every side of Liu Qingge; smothering, oppressive, so tight that his ribs have trouble moving. He tries to summon his spiritual energy to protect himself, but depleted like this, the attack is too strong- it constricts around him like a snake, cutting off his breathing. Liu Qingge twists and attempts to fight it, but it’s no use- it simply curls tighter and tighter around him. Still struggling, unable to breathe, his vision begins to go dark; he barely feels it when he drops to his knees in the hard stone.
“I’ll have to trouble shishu to stay out of my way,” the demon says- and Liu Qingge loses himself to the darkness.
—
He wakes up with a gasp, some time later. He’s still on the rocky slopes; some kind of spell is dissipating from his body, the last remnants of its power dissolving into softly glowing dust. It’s darkest night; the darkness lets him make out the barest outline of the remains of the spell. Stasis.
How long has he been here? He snarls and leaps to his feet, surveying his surroundings. In the darkness, nothing- only empty hills covered in jagged loose rock, starlight outlining their edges. No one else is here; all is quiet.
Liu Qingge glances up at the stars to orient himself and summons Cheng Luan. The blade, placed in its sheath by his side, raises to hover at his waist. He leaps onto it and rises into the air; circles the area. Nothing familiar.
Gritting his teeth, he picks a direction and begins to fly.
—
It takes him weeks to find his way back. By the time he recognizes his surroundings, the trial has concluded. He interrogates a wandering cultivator and discovers that Shen Qingqiu, the rat bastard, has been imprisoned in Huan Hua. Under normal circumstances Liu Qingge might be inclined to let him rot- but this is another sect threatening Cang Qiong’s power, and manipulated by a demon besides. He can’t let the insult stand. Without bothering to return to Cang Qiong, he flies to investigate Huan Hua’s defenses.
They’re better than some; there are regular patrols, disciples drilling in orderly lines in the courtyards. Liu Qingge considers his options, then simply flits in, seizes a guard in a secluded location, and seals her acupoints of speech and movement before she can react.
“Shen Qingqiu,” he says, catching her before she can fall and lifting her by the lapels until her feet are separated from the ground. “Where is he.” The guard makes an intense mrh mrph mmrh noise, and he narrows his eyes. “Call for help, and you’ll regret it,” he says, and unseals her speech.
“The Bai Zhan war god?!” she blurts, eyes wide. “I’ve seen you at the conference, you were unstoppable-”
He shakes her limp body, snarling. “Location! Now!”
“He’s, he’s in the water prison,” she says, head flopping around on her neck. “Under the-”
Liu Qingge snarls, striking her in the temple and letting her unconscious body hit the ground. He needs to think. Huan Hua’s water prison is infamous for being difficult to locate and impossible to escape. Maybe he should have gone to Cang Qiong first…
“Well well,” a voice says behind him. The hair rises on the back of his neck; he recognizes the voice. He spins and sees the demon, demon mark well hidden and wearing the robes of Huan Hua, handsome face spread in a smirk. “A peak lord of Cang Qiong, breaking into another sect? This looks bad.” His hand is fondling a talisman inscribed with a sigil for communication- no doubt the one Huan Hua uses to call other guards.
“Demon!” Liu Qingge spits, turning to face him with his hand on Cheng Luan’s pommel. The demon raises the talisman, grinning. Why? A threat? Any witnesses he summons will hear Liu Qingge’s accusations.
“Your sect has a lovely treaty with ours at the moment,” the demon says, twirling the talisman. “Noninterference, in exchange for shizun’s safety. I would hate for your presence to jeopardize that.”
“What shizun!” Liu Qingge snaps, not taking his hand from Cheng Luan. This changes things, though; he hadn’t expected a treaty. Perhaps he should have returned to Cang Qiong first, after all.
“My shizun, of course,” the demon says mildly. He takes a slow, meandering step toward Liu Qingge; and when he doesn’t move, he diverts his path toward the guard lying unconscious on the ground. He drops to a knee and swirls his fingers through the air by her head; her brow furrows, then relaxes. “There,” the demon says. “She won’t remember you now.”
“What idiot did you fool into taking you as a disciple,” Liu Qingge sneers. “Their sect should be paraded around as a laughing stock for not noticing.”
“You don’t say!” the demon laughs, delighted. He turns toward Liu Qingge, eyes dancing with a dangerous light. He raises his hands in a formal bow, inclining at the waist. “Greeting shishu. Luo Binghe, disciple of Qing Jing peak of Cang Qiong sect.”
Luo Binghe? Liu Qingge’s brows furrow. He’s heard that name before- from who? The demon- Luo Binghe- glances up at him from beneath its eyelashes, gaze calculating. Liu Qingge stares, mind racing.
Mingyan- she’d told him of the three duels, the day he’d exited from seclusion. Shen Qingqiu; her; and some tiny brat from Qing Jing peak. That must have been the one that Liu Qingge had stepped in front of, right as the poisoned armor almost connected with the brat. He hadn’t bothered to examine the boy’s face. Would he have seen the demon, if he had?
“You’re not of Cang Qiong,” he says, eyes narrowing.
“Oh?” Luo Binghe says, raising an eyebrow. “Would shishu like me to recite the Qing Jing poetry forms? Or perhaps perform the guqin selection the disciples are trained in?”
“I’ve fought you,” Liu Qingge says dismissively. “You don’t have the Qing Jing forms- only a cheap replica.” Similar on the surface, but missing the truth of the swordwork beneath.
Luo Binghe’s gaze darkens; he bites his lip. “That’s right,” he murmurs, silky and threatening. “Shishu didn’t see the rest of the trial. He didn’t hear about… my mistreatment, at the hands of Qing Jing.” He examines Liu Qingge for a long moment; a humorless smile pulls at his lips. “Perhaps the representative of Cang Qiong would like to see shizun, so as to confirm his wellbeing.”
Liu Qingge’s eyes narrow. Is the demon trying to make trouble for his sect?
“Don’t look like that,” Luo Binghe says, blinking innocently. “I’ll bring you in quietly, so that no one knows- and you can ask him any questions you have yourself.”
“I don’t need to know anything from that snake,” Liu Qingge snaps. Luo Binghe regards him, head cocked; after a long few moments he smiles again and starts walking away. Liu Qingge watches him go, then looks at the wall he leapt over. His exit strategy. He doesn’t have to play along with the demon.
He thinks about the dream; thinks about the demon- Luo Binghe- and Shen Qingqiu. So they were working together, after all. His eyes narrow thoughtfully.
He throws one more glance at the wall- then, turning, he follows Luo Binghe’s disappearing back.
—
“What are you doing here?” Shen Qingqiu says with a tired but venomous glare at Liu Qingge from where he sits stiffly on the floor, bound with immortal binding cables. His hands are free; one twitches, as if reaching for a fan that isn’t there. All his limbs are attached, at least. Liu Qingge can report that to Yue Qingyuan.
“Hello shizun,” Luo Binghe says smoothly, slipping something from his sleeve and setting it on the floor a pace away from Shen Qingqiu. It’s an orange. “How are you finding your accommodations?”
“Hello, beast,” Shen Qingqiu sneers. He doesn’t bother to look at the fruit. “Come to gloat, then?”
“I’ll report back to zhangmen shixiong that you’re still alive,” Liu Qingge says stiffly. Shen Qingqiu looks him up and down; scoffs. Doesn’t say anything else.
“Shizun, he doesn’t believe that I studied under you,” Luo Binghe says, tone polite and flattering. “He said that my Qing Jing style is flawed.” A cruel smile pulls at Shen Qingqiu’s mouth; he humphs, and doesn’t say anything.
“You knew he was a demon,” Liu Qingge surmises from the exchange. The hatred in Shen Qingqiu’s expression is clear. “How could you let a demon infiltrate our sect?”
“I knew there was something wrong with the little beast,” Shen Qingqiu snaps, not looking at Liu Qingge. He has eyes only for the demon. “Rotten to the core. But don’t you dare tell zhangmen shixiong,” he says, eyes at last flicking to Liu Qingge, “that I abode a demon to stay in our sect. Think the worst of me all you like; but I would have killed him on the spot, had I known.”
“Shizun did kill me on the spot,” Luo Binghe murmurs in silky agreement. “At the immortal alliance conference.”
Liu Qingge scowls, not sure what to make of this confusing exchange. But before he can open his mouth to interrogate Shen Qingqiu further, Luo Binghe’s face goes smooth and flat.
“Someone’s coming,” he says, resting a hand on his sword, the disguise again firmly affixed; the blade looks like no more than plain steel. “I’ll have to trouble shishu to leave-” and somehow, he’s pushed Liu Qingge, so that he’s tilting back and falling through emptiness where his feet used to be. Liu Qingge hits the earth with a grunt, not pausing for a moment before scrambling to his feet; Luo Binghe follows him through the demonic portal, robes sweeping its edges as it closes silently behind him. Liu Qingge regards him with a scowl, fingers tight on Cheng Luan.
“Why did you come to Cang Qiong?” he demands. “All those years, fooling even Shen Qingqiu- why? Just to ruin us?”
Luo Binghe laughs; it’s incredulous. “Why did I come to Cang Qiong?” he says, voice derisive. “The other option was to starve.”
“With power like yours?” Liu Qingge scoffs. He remembers the confidence; the might; the dominance with which this demon seized him the first time they met.
“I was no more than a child,” Luo Binghe scoffs. “There was no power.” It provokes a sharp laugh from Liu Qingge.
“A child!” he sneers. “Would a child have been able to-”
He falls silent; his stomach churns. He’s spent so many years trying not to recall that first encounter. Trying to push it from his mind.
“Been able to what, shishu?” Luo Binghe says silkily.
“Shen Qingqiu was there that time too,” Liu Qingge says slowly. “When we first met. He was working with you.”
“Of course he was,” Luo Binghe snorts. “Sha Hualing’s army was threatening the mountain. He may have hated me, but he wouldn’t have let her seize it.”
“Not then,” Liu Qingge says, dashing a hand through the air. “Before.”
“That was the first time we met,” Luo Binghe says, tilting his head at him. His eyes go a little sharper.
“No it wasn’t,” Liu Qingge says, eyes narrowed. “You’ve been working with Shen Qingqiu this whole time. He’s known.” A traitor, in their own sect?
“Hah!” the demon exclaims, face creasing with ill humor. “Shishu has a sense of humor! How would shizun have deigned to work with a brat like me?”
“You’ve never been a brat,” Liu Qingge says dismissively. “Did you forget? You appeared before me in this form when you-”
He trails off, mouth twisting. He can’t say it.
Luo Binghe is looking at him like he’s ranting unintelligibly. “I looked like this, before Sha Hualing’s invasion of the mountain?” he says, brow slowly furrowing. There’s a long, contemplative pause. Liu Qingge looks up and down Luo Binghe’s form; it’s precisely the same. Curling hair, broad shoulders, long fingers. The fine bones of his face, distractingly handsome. The only feature missing is his hidden demon mark. This time, though, the demon is staring at him, not…
Liu Qingge fumes, face reddening.
The demon’s eyes focus; a calculating look crosses his face. “Why doesn’t shishu tell me about the first time we met,” he says, coaxing. He takes a half step toward Liu Qingge.
Liu Qingge bares his teeth at him, hand drawing Cheng Luan a few inches from its sheath. As if he would fall for any more of the demon’s tricks! Luo Binghe raises both his hands, and retreats the half step, smile quirking at his lips.
“I think something is going on,” he says, gentle and coaxing. His attitude has changed so abruptly; it’s creepy. “Shishu, I really was a child back then. But you met me as an adult?”
“Don’t pretend that wasn’t you,” Liu Qingge snaps. “You and Shen Qingqiu, together you…”
“Together?” the demon says, brows snapping together. Liu Qingge closes his mouth; there really is something going on here. The hunger in the demon’s gaze is unmistakeable; he wants that to have been him. It does more to convince Liu Qingge than anything else could have. “Tell me what happened,” the demon wheedles, entire attitude changing.
“No,” Liu Qingge snaps, summoning Cheng Luan from its sheath. There’s been too many revelations today- he can’t stay here, exchanging parry and repost with the demon. He needs to tell zhangmen shixiong what’s going on. He steps onto Cheng Luan with no more words, darting off into the sky. The demon steps after him, one hand raising as if to yank him back- but he lets it fall, watching Liu Qingge fly off without pursuing.
Once he’s well out of the demon’s range, Liu Qingge finally lets his shoulders fall, though the tension doesn’t leave them.
It seems impossible, but…
If Luo Binghe really was a child back then. If the demon Liu Qingge met was someone else.
If there are two of them running around…
Liu Qingge shakes his head, brow creasing in annoyance. It’s all so complicated.
But one thing is simple. If Luo Binghe, truly, was a child when Liu Qingge met him in those dreams…
Then Liu Qingge must acknowledge it.
The brat fought well.