Chapter Text
When Luo Binghe was still a young boy, and he first joined the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, he thought that the Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak surely must have belonged to a prominent noble family. The air of refined detachment in his every move, the way the delicate features of his face made it look as if it had been sculpted by the most skilled craftsman in the realm could not possibly be a sign of anything less.
When Qiu Haitang came to Luo Binghe, many years later, after he had been subjected to his Shizun's cruel ways, and he had to crawl his mangled body out of hell itself, he was not surprised when she claimed Shen Qingqiu - Shen Jiu, as he was known to her - was a slave, and a murderously unfilial one at that.
When Luo Binghe presented the shattered pieces of Xuan Su, when his stubborn and spiteful Shizun finally showed an expression other than unadulterated hatred in that single eye he had left, when the demon lord was finally able to step past that last mental barrier that had been stubbornly resisting his prodding for years and years, keeping Shen Qingqiu's heart demons out of his grasp, Luo Binghe realized that he had been played for a fool by fate all along.
After clawing his way out of the Endless Abyss, Luo Binghe had always thought himself very smart.
He thought, "I can make these people - humans and demons alike - dance to my tune with just a few words, there is no chance for me to be deceived by any of them."
He did not take into account that a liar was not truly a liar if their knowledge was faulty and full of holes to begin with.
Qiu Haitang did not lie to him.
Every single word she told him was pure truth.
Shen Jiu was a slave.
Shen Jiu was bought by her family.
Shen Jiu murdered most of it.
If Luo Binghe had felt the need to rip and tear and witness with gleeful abandon as his Shizun screamed in pain for years and years and years, after he had to suffer abuse after abuse at his merciless hands, he could not fault Shen Jiu for seizing his own revenge and freedom when he could.
Truly, Qiu Jianluo was fortunate to be cut down with the single strike of a sword.
If he were in his Shizun's place, Luo Binghe would have done much worse.
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When Luo Binghe went to that other universe and was met with that softer version of Shen Qingqiu, he wondered, "why is this Shizun so different from my own?"
What was that changed him so?
What made him so sweet and caring compared to the spiteful and cruel Shen Qingqiu that he knew?
Were their pasts different? Was that all?
If his Shizun had not gone through abuse after abuse of his own, would he have turned out kinder and softer in return?
If that was all that was needed, then the solution to Luo Binghe's predicament was easy enough to achieve: nothing could be done about his Shizun anymore, therefore he would have to raise a new one that fit all his needs.
As he cut through the layers of reality with Xin Mo, the corners of his mouth curled up into a pleased smile, a hum of excitement leaving his lips, matched only by the purr of unbridled approval thrumming through his body from the demonic sword.