Chapter Text
All Shen yuan felt around him was silence. He had experienced this feeling once before. Or should he say twice?
A few months prior, in another stupid wife-plot (curse you, Airplane!) , he had managed to inhale the scent of a ‘Reincarnation’s Memory Flower’. (Again, Airplane bro, couldn’t you have at least tried to name the flora and fauna of the world?)
However, unlike Airplane’s other nonsense papapa plots, this flower was something leftover from the original drafts. Which meant that it had a real use in the world and would not be fixed with mindless papapa. Shen Qingqiu had gone to Mu Qingfang about it. (After many distractions because, “Shizun should visit more”, “Shixiong is forgetting about our sect” and “Shen-shidi should have tea with this shixiong sometime.” Honestly, wasn’t he supposed to be disliked? Why was he suddenly so popular?) Anyway, Mu Qingfang had seemed less than impressed when his shixiong had come to his peak, asking about yet another poison. (At least it wasn’t an aphrodisiac this time.) Mu-shidi had said that while there was no known cure for it, he would only be getting memories of his previous life or lives. Only, he had said.
Well, Shen Qingqiu had thought that it wouldn’t affect him much since he already had memories of his past life. Or perhaps those already existing memories would become more well-defined and while he wasn’t thrilled at having to remember his family after years of trying not to think of them, he didn’t pay it much thought.
This turned out to be a horrible decision on his part because only a day later, he had started getting flashbacks. Of what? Of Shen jiu’s life. His time in the Qiu manor. Time with Wu Yanzi. And his time getting tortured by Luo Binghe, among other things. (Which did not seem as important to him, while he was being ripped apart, limb by limb.) He had woken up almost every night, screaming and in a cold sweat. Luo Binghe also wasn’t there – because of his duties, Shen yuan had assumed – to reassure him that it was all a dream. Because that’s all it was.
Right?
When Shen Qingqiu had finally died in his ‘dream’ and started dreaming about his life as Shen yuan, he realized something. The so-called ‘dreams’ he had been having were all effects of the damn flower. He had sat there frozen, on his bed, for almost hours, when a demon servant had come in with his food. (And a note that said Luo Binghe was not available.)
He was Shen jiu.
He was Shen yuan.
And he was Shen Qingqiu.
Three lives. He was living his third life and he hadn’t even known.
With this realization and the memories of his life as Shen jiu, came all the feelings that the ‘scum villain’ had felt. Every single one. It almost hurt physically, and Shen Qingqiu was afraid he would go into Qi deviation.
Shen Qingqiu wanted to call out for his husband but remembered he had duties. He hadn’t been home in weeks and Shen yuan had just assumed that they were due to Demon Lord duties. (Which in hindsight, perhaps was not the best of decisions.)
So, Shen Qingqiu waited. And waited. And waited some more.
Finally, a month after the whole ordeal, Luo Binghe had arrived. He had been more distant than usual, but Shen yuan had chalked it up as fatigue. (Another oversight on his part.) Shen Qingqiu had tried talking to his husband but would get shut down every time.
“This one is tired”
“Husband does not need to worry.”
“Could this disciple ask for some time alone, Shizun?”
And then, Luo Binghe had asked for freedom. Freedom from their marriage so he could go marry other women. Shen Qingqiu had realized then, that he had grown too soft, too carefree. He had been convinced at that moment that the laws of the world could not change. Luo Binghe would still go on to be the same stallion protagonist he had been in Proud Immortal Demon Way. How could he hope to have changed the innate nature of a person? Or their destiny?
Even with his meddling, and the system’s ‘help’, the major events had stayed the same. They had always happened without fail. And so, Shen Qingqiu had let go. He had given up at that second and said ‘This master wishes his disciple a happy life’ before setting off on his sword towards Cang Qiong.
When he arrived, he must have looked quite bad, because Liu Qingge had taken him straight to Mu Qingfang. The other peak lords had arrived a little later.
Mu Qingfang had diagnosed him with an incurable disease. ‘Heartbreak.’
And due to ‘plot convenience’ (Because Shen Qingqiu had to die for the world to progress) the without-a-cure poison had flared up again. As expected, the news had devastated the entire sect. (Because their shixiong/Shizun/Shishu had always survived, how could he die now? Like this?) Liu Qingge had wanted to go fight Luo Binghe, but Shen Qingqiu had stopped him. Not because he would be defeated, no, but because he knew he was dying and wanted to spend more time with this shidi of his who had once been his favorite character.
The next months had gone by peacefully. Shen Qingqiu would stay in his bamboo house and even teach from time to time. One Peak lord would visit him daily. (Because they were all just waiting for the inevitable, were they not?)
Shen Qingqiu and Qi Qingqi would chat about and critique badly written novels. (She wished she had listened to reason before jumping to conclusions. She wished she had talked to her shixiong. She wished he wasn’t dying.)
He and Wei Qingwei would talk about different swords. Wei-shidi would even tell him about the mechanisms of Hongjing. (He never mentioned how he had explained the same things every time. If his shixiong so wished, he would repeat a thousand times over.)
Liu Qingge would transfer Qi as often as he could, but it was a useless endeavor. He would also offer to go fight Luo Binghe for Shen Qingqiu’s honor, but he would just chuckle and joke, “This shixiong does not require shidi to fight for his honor.” (He wished he could fight Luo Binghe. He wished he could save his shixiong. He wished he had been the one who had his shixiong’s affections.)
Yue Qingyuan would look like a kicked puppy every time he came to visit, but they would sit down and have nice, long conversations with tea. (He wished he had talked to him sooner. He wished he had stopped his xiao jiu from marrying the half-demon. He wished he could make that look of resigned sadness disappear. It didn’t suit him.)
Mu Qingfang would visit from time-to-time, and look so guilty, that Shen Qingqiu would feel bad. It wasn’t his shidi’s fault that he could not cure him. It was just the law of the world. He couldn’t say that though and would just comfort his martial brother. (He wished he had a cure for heartbreak. He wished he had taken his shixiong’s many poisonings more seriously. He wished he weren’t so useless.)
Shang Qinghua, his ‘Airplane bro’ would come in and they would just sit in silence. Enjoying each other’s company for as long as possible. One time Shen Qingqiu had joked - ‘Airplane bro is becoming very dull’. What had followed was a long session of his ‘bro’ crying in his arms begging him to not leave him alone in this shitty world. Another time, Mobei Jun had walked in and informed Shen Qingqiu about how Luo Binghe had already married fifty women and would bring a new one back every time he came back from a mission.
Shen Qingqiu had laughed genuinely for the first time in a long time and eventually broken down into sobs in his Airplane bro’s arms. They had stayed like that the whole evening and when Shang Qinghua left, he had left with one of his ‘shixiong’s’ favorite fans. (He wished he had spent more time with his brother. He wished he had paid more attention to what his life was like. He wished he could stay with his brother forever.)
Bai Qingxuan would come bearing gifts made from the hide or fur of different monsters and would have long conversations with his shixiong about beasts and demons. (He wished he had done this sooner. He wished he had more time.)
Zhou Qingbai would bring alcohol and just drink, and on occasion cry, about how unfair the world was. (He wished he could wipe that look of pure acceptance off his shixiong’s face.)
Bai Qingping would pray for Shen Qingqiu, and for some reason, it would lighten his mood every time. Bai-shidi also called him a ‘poor soul’. (He wished he had tried to get to know the pains of his shixiong instead of spending all his time in seclusion.)
Two other peak lords, who Shen Qingqiu never saw much had visited him, mainly while he was sleeping, so he hadn’t seen them around much. (They wished they could take their shixiong’s pain away.)
One thing Shen Qingqiu didn’t like about slowly dying was that his disciples could see him getting worse every day. Ming Fan and Ning Yingying would do everything they could to make sure their Shizun was comfortable. Shen Qingqiu would never admit it, but having people in his house again made him less lonely. (His disciples wished they could make their Shizun smile more often. Ming Fan wished he had taken more care of his Shizun. Yingying wished she had been a better daughter to her Shizun. They wished they could kill Luo Binghe.)
Shen Qingqiu found it ironic. In his first life, he had died from heartbreak and resignation. The second time he had died with heartbreak and anger and in his third life, he was dying of heartbreak and acceptance. He wondered what death would look like. He felt grief, he mourned his once filial and sticky disciple, and some nights he cried for himself. However, somewhere along those months, his tears had dried up. (He wished he was never born.)
There was a hollowness where his happiness used to be, and it was this hollowness that ultimately caused his demise.
Now, in this lonely void-like place, he felt at peace. He wondered what would happen after this.
Oblivion?
Heaven?
Void?
He didn’t know.