Chapter Text
The drive to his apartment was nothing short of awkward. He stole occasional glances at Luo Binghe in the rearview mirror, who sat in the backseat with an air of regality as if he belonged in some fantasy world rather than the mundane streets of the city. It almost, almost made him think he was the real deal rather than a delusional role player. This night was nearly as awkward when he accidentally met Airplane IRL, thought he was a girl, flirted with him for a solid hour, and gave him his number, only to find out on their third date that he was a man using him for free food and, in fact, Airplane. He was still surprised that he didn’t get an assault or a murder charge that day. But with this Luo Binghe wannabe, he wouldn’t be spending around 3,000 yuan on him. Or he could lose 3,000 yuan from getting robbed.
On second thought, maybe he should have risked the murder charge because at least he could explain that to his parents, but he had already parked the car. So it was a bit too late to turn back now! Not when Luo Binghe, or rather, the rather convincing Luo Binghe look-alike, was sitting in his backseat, seemingly harmless yet potentially dangerous. He can’t explain getting murdered because he’ll be dead! The more he thought about this whole clusterf*ck, the more it was starting to resemble a ridiculous comedy plot in one of his sister’s BLs, and he couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry.
"Why have we stopped, little Shen?" Luo Binghe's voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present.
"It's nothing," he managed to utter, his voice strained with forced calmness. "Just a momentary pause, that's all."
With a reluctant sigh, he stepped out of the car, gesturing for Luo Binghe to follow. He watched as the man struggled with the door for a second before letting himself out. He led the way to his high-end apartment building, the clacking of their footsteps echoing in the silence between them. As they entered the lobby, the doorman, a middle-aged man with a curious expression, raised an eyebrow as they approached.
"Good evening, Mr. Shen. And who is your... companion?" the doorman inquired.
Before he could respond, Luo Binghe, standing tall and proud, answered, "I am Luo Binghe, the Emperor of the Three Relams."
Shen Yuan's eyes widened, and he shot Luo Binghe a look of disbelief. This was not the time for roleplaying! He hurriedly tried to explain, "No, no, he's... um, a friend. We were at a costume event, and he's really into the characters he cosplays."
Luo Binghe tried to deny Shen Yuan's explanation, "This lord is not—"
He quickly reached up and covered the cosplayer's mouth with his hand. "Anyway, we're just going to my apartment. We had a very long night!" He laughed awkwardly.
The doorman raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Of course, Mr. Shen. Enjoy your evening."
Shen Yuan dragged Luo Binghe to the elevator before Binghe could say anything else. As the doors closed, he gave a side eye that would make his brother proud. "Please, for the love of everything, just go along with whatever I say! And you said you’d be normal in that car! We— I don't need any more attention."
Luo Binghe, maintaining his regal composure, tilted his head slightly. "This lord is being normal. It is Little Shen who is not. Is there something wrong with introducing oneself truthfully?"
He let out a deep groan as he realized that reasoning with someone who genuinely believed he was a Luo Binghe might be more challenging than he thought. "Look, just tone down the emperor act for now, okay? People here are not used to seeing someone dressed like…” He wildly gestured at the man's outfit before pressing the floor number. “A xianxia character! And calling me 'little Shen' is not helping."
Luo Binghe huffed and crossed his arms. "Then maybe they should get used to my normal, little Shen.”
Shen Yuan pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to stave off a burgeoning headache. "Look, if you keep this up, I don’t think your Shizun, will be able to handle you.”
Luo Binghe's eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of offense crossing his features. "This lord's Shizun will surely appreciate this lord's dedication. He will like me; he has to."
He shook his head incredulously. "You can't just make someone like you, especially if this Shizun of yours is related to me!"
Luo Binghe crossed his arms, the air around him almost vibrating with stubborn determination. "This lord's Shizun is bound by destiny to accept this lord; he has seen it with his own eyes. Fate brought us together once, and it will do it again."
Shen Yuan sighed; whoever this guy’s Shizun was, he was going to have a hard time with him. The elevator doors opened, and they both walked out of the elevator. As they walked to his apartment, he couldn't help but steal occasional glances at Luo Binghe, who maintained his regal demeanor, every stride purposeful and dignified. It was almost surreal, walking beside someone who seemed to have stepped out of a historical drama.
They soon found themselves before the door to his apartment, mainly because it wasn’t a long walk away as only one other person lived upstairs. Jobless people like him could only dream of affording a penthouse apartment, but he was a lucky third son born to a wealthy family. Technically, he wasn’t jobless; he got paid to review web novels, comics, and games, and he occasionally streamed League of Legends, Valorant, and Genshin Impact. He hadn’t really gotten the time to play Hankai Star Rail yet, but he heard it was pretty good.
As he began to input the code to his apartment door, a sudden realization struck him like a lightning bolt. His extensive collection of PIDW merchandise was scattered throughout his apartment! If this guy who thought he was Luo Binghe caught sight of it, he wouldn't hear the end of it.
"Wait here for just a moment," he said, his voice rushed. "I need to clean up real quick."
Luo Binghe raised an eyebrow but nodded in acquiescence. "Very well, Little Shen. This lord shall await your return."
Shen Yuan quickly punched in the rest of the code to unlock the door, slipping inside and closing it behind him. He cursed under his breath as he hurriedly scanned the living room, spotting the array of PIDW figurines on one of his many displays and his limited edition white lotus Binghe plush on his couch. Frantically, he gathered the figures up, stuffing them into a nearby closet and under the sofa cushions. He then took the limited edition white lotus Binghe plush into his bedroom and gently placed it on his bed, giving it a light pat on the head.
Once that was handled, he surveyed the room one more time to ensure there was no trace of PIDW left visible. Satisfied, he opened the door to find Luo Binghe standing patiently outside, his expression unreadable.
"Sorry about that," Shen Yuan said, trying to sound casual despite the racing of his heart. "Let's head in."
Luo Binghe regarded him for a moment before nodding, his demeanor unchanged. "Good."
As they stepped into the apartment, Shen Yuan couldn't shake off the lingering tension in the air. He watched anxiously as Luo Binghe surveyed the space with a critical eye, his expression inscrutable.
To Shen Yuan's surprise, Luo Binghe simply nodded, seemingly satisfied with what he saw. "It is small but shall do," he declared, his voice carrying an air of finality.
Shen Yuan blinked in confusion because his apartment was not small in the slightest. "Uh, what do you mean, 'this will do'?"
Luo Binghe turned to him, a hint of impatience crossing his features. "Like this lord has said, the residence is small but will do until he finds his Shizun. You may leave now; this lord shall make himself comfortable here."
Shen Yuan's confusion deepened. "Leave? But this is my apartment. I'm not going anywhere."
Luo Binghe's brows furrowed in annoyance. "Surely, you jest, Little Shen. This lord requires lodging for the night, and you have graciously offered your home. Now, be gone and leave this lord to his rest."
Shen Yuan's jaw dropped in disbelief. "I'm not leaving my own home! Besides, I have a guest room you can stay in, because you’re a guest."
Luo Binghe's expression darkened, a scowl forming on his lips. "Very well, if that is your wish. Lead the way to this guest room of yours, Little Shen."
Shen Yuan sighed in exasperation but gestured for Luo Binghe to follow him. As they walked down the hallway to the guest room, Shen Yuan couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settling in the pit of his stomach. As they reached the guest room, Shen Yuan hesitated for a moment before pushing open the door and stepping inside.
"Here's the guest room," Shen Yuan said, gesturing for Luo Binghe to enter.
Luo Binghe's expression remained unreadable as he surveyed the room with a hint of disdain. The room was modestly furnished with a comfortable bed, a small desk, and a few basic amenities.
Luo Binghe crossed his arms and huffed. "Hmph. This is worse than the rest of the house."
Shen Yuan's patience was wearing thin. Just because he hit this cosplayer with a car did not mean he had the right to complain this much! If this was Airplane, the man would bow and swear to die for him.
"Well, excuse me for not having a palace ready for you," he retorted, irritation rising. "If you're going to complain so much, you can sleep on the side of the road for all I care."
To his surprise, Luo Binghe's lips curled into a small smile, a glint of amusem*nt dancing in his eyes for whatever reason. "Ah, it seems Little Shen has some fire in him after all. Very well, this lord shall stay in this room."
Shen Yuan resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he stepped back, allowing Luo Binghe to settle into the guest room. "Fine. If you need anything, there's a guest laptop on the desk with no password, and the bathroom is across the hall."
Luo Binghe made a sound of acknowledgment before speaking, "You are dismissed, Little Shen."
He resisted the urge to snap back a retort, instead opting to roll his eyes as he left the room. He closed the door behind him with a sigh. Once inside his room, Shen Yuan took a moment to assess his surroundings. With a heavy sigh, Shen Yuan decided to take precautionary measures. He moved his desk chair to block the door, wedging it under the doorknob to prevent anyone from entering uninvited. It was a futile gesture, he knew, considering Luo Binghe's apparent strength. But it provided him with a small sense of security, nonetheless.
He settled into bed, and he only had one thought: that all his limited edition action figures didn't wind up missing when he woke up.
In the midst of the chaos engulfing the Immortal Conference, Luo Binghe found himself trapped in a whirlwind of confusion and desperation. The cacophony of battle roared around him like a tempest. Flames licked at his senses as he backed away from Shen Qingqiu, his beloved Shizun, the one person he had always admired and respected above all others despite how the man treated him. He could see coldness and disdain in Shen Qingqiu's gaze; there was something more in Shen Qingqiu's gaze—a gleam of satisfaction that sent a chill down Luo Binghe's spine. It was as if his Shizun had been waiting for this moment, relishing the opportunity to cast judgment upon him.
"Luo Binghe," Shen Qingqiu's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and accusatory, "I knew there was something off about you, brat. And now, amidst this chaos, your true colors reveal themselves."
Luo Binghe's heart sank at the accusation, like a dagger piercing through his very soul. "Shizun, please," he pleaded once more, his voice trembling with emotion. "I have never betrayed you or Cang Qiong Mountain. I have always strived to be worthy of your teachings, to follow the path of righteousness you showed me."
But Shen Qingqiu's expression remained cold and unyielding, his grip tightening on Xiu Ya as he prepared to strike. "You dare speak of righteousness, demon?" he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "You, who bear the mark of sin upon your very soul? Do not think for a moment that I will be swayed by your lies."
"Shizun, please," he pleaded once more, his voice barely audible over the din of destruction. "I beg of you, listen to—"
But his words were cut short as Shen Qingqiu lunged forward, Xiu Ya flashing in the firelight like a beacon of righteous fury. With reflexes honed by years of training, Luo Binghe parried the blow, his own sword clashing against Shen Qingqiu's with a resounding clang. But despite his best efforts, Shen Qingqiu's skill and experience proved to be formidable. With each passing moment, he found himself being pushed further and further back, his strength waning as the battle raged on. With a deft move, Shen Qingqiu disarmed Luo Binghe, sending his sword clattering to the ground below.
With no other choice, he found himself stumbling backward, his footing precarious on the edge of a cliff that led to chasm yawning hungrily behind him.
"Shizun, please," he gasped, his voice tinged with desperation as he struggled to maintain his balance.
But Shen Qingqiu's expression remained cold and unforgiving as he advanced, his sword poised to strike the final blow. "Goodbye, demon," he spat, his voice echoing in the chaos as he stabbed him in the chest. “And don't expect to be mourned.”
Luo Binghe felt a shockwave of agony course through his body. His breath caught in his throat, and time seemed to stand still for a fleeting moment.
"Shizun..." he gasped, his voice barely a whisper, choked with both physical and emotional anguish.
But there was no mercy in Shen Qingqiu's eyes, only the cold, unyielding gaze of judgment. With a final, contemptuous twist of his blade, he pushed Luo Binghe over the edge, plummeting into the darkness below.
Before he can even scream, his body him the jagged ground with a disgusting crunch.
Luo Binghe's breath came in ragged gasps as he jolted from the clutches of his nightmare, his heart pounding against his chest like a relentless drumbeat. Sweat coated his brow, trickling down his temples in rivulets of cold moisture, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat that had suffused his dreams. Luo Binghe jolts awake, his breath heavy and sweat on his face. It was strange, indeed, for someone like him, who had mastered the art of dream manipulation, to be tormented by the past. It was a strange sensation, indeed, for someone like him, who had mastered the art of dream manipulation, to be tormented by the past. He had spent years honing his skills, learning to bend the fabric of reality to his will, to shape his dreams into whatever form he desired. Yet, despite his best efforts to control his own mind, the memory of that day, still plagued him. He may have killed Shen Qingqiu with his bare hands after ripping him limb from limb. However, he could not kill his memory or heal the scars he had left behind emotionally still lingered, casting a shadow over his thoughts, his dreams, and even driving his very actions to this very moment.
Would the nicer Shizun comfort him after a nightmare? Would he hold him close, tell him that he would be okay, and run his hands through his hair? Alas, he could only fantasize, for now, about that version of Shen Qingqiu he would find. With a weary sigh, he pushed himself upright, his muscles protesting with every movement—a sensation that had not visited him in years. He glanced at the black box beside his bed, the glowing digits displaying what he was going to assume was the time—4:00 a.m. What a useful thing.
Well, it was morning, and if he was in the Underground Palace he would have spared with his soldiers and Mobei if he happened to be there. If he was lucky, he would cook in his private kitchen, and maybe one of his wives would be in there with some new drama or was just horny. It really did kill his mood when that happened because one rare time, he got to be alone, with no children, no random demon tribe leader trying to meet or fight him, and no one telling him that someone in his family got kidnapped. Just him, the stove, his ingredients, and quiet.
The thought of cooking to clear his head and regain some semblance of normalcy appealed to him. Little Shen should have a kitchen with decent cooking utensils and ingredients. With a sense of determination, Luo Binghe swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rose to his feet, his bare feet padding softly against the cool floor. Ignoring the lingering ache in his muscles, he made his way across the room and pushed open the door, stepping out into the dimly lit hallway.
As he navigated his way through the unfamiliar halls of Little Shen's apartment, the soft glow of lights illuminated his path, casting shadows that danced across the walls. Eventually, he found himself standing in the odd-looking kitchen. An array of appliances and utensils was scattered across the countertops, some familiar and others foreign to him. There were strange contraptions that hummed softly with hidden energy, their purpose unknown. He couldn’t see the pots and pans, but they had to be in one of the many cabinets.
Although it was clear that Little Shen possessed the tools of a cook, but whether he knew how to use them remained to be seen as everything looked untouched. Moving with purpose, he began to search through the pantry and cabinets. The pots he found looked well-used and well-loved, but the pans looked brand new. His keen eyes take in the assortment of ingredients with a critical gaze. He found bags of flour and sugar, jars of spices and seasonings, but not a lot of fresh produce. Just preserved food in brightly colored packaging.
With a scoff of disdain, Luo Binghe pushed aside the pre-packaged foods, his lip curling in disgust. It was no wonder that Little Shen was so skinny if this was the extent of his diet. Clearly, he was in need of a proper meal, but the only person worthy of eating his cooking now was the nicer, kinder version of Shen Qingqiu. It's not his fault that Little Shen can’t take care of himself.
He looked around once more before spotting the large cabinet. Just how did he not notice it when he entered? He walked over to it and was hit by a blast of cold air. It must be a cold house. At the Underground Palace, they just had root cellars as it was easier to manage with all the nevermelt ice they had from the Northern Desert. But Little Shen having a cold house within his home must mean he had a good amount of money but not enough to afford real food. As there wasn’t much in there—just some eggs, cheese, scallions, and juice. He could make do with what he had.
Setting down the eggs, cheese, and scallions on the counter before he turned his attention to the seasonings, scanning through them until he found the salt and pepper. With all the necessary ingredients and equipment gathered, he just needed a heat source to cook with. His eyes fell upon the strange contraptions on the counter in the kitchen. One was a black box with buttons, and the outer had an odd-looking cylinder with a lower part having a handle. Both looked as if they would be unsuitable for what he wanted to cook; at least, he hoped they weren’t, as he was in no mood to mess with the unfamiliar.
So Luo Binghe moved to the bigger metal contraption with dials and knobs. It looked simple enough. He turned one of the knobs experimentally; the only thing that happened was a small red light next to the dials he messed with. He looked at the other buttons on the strange device, but they were related to baking, and he didn’t want to bake. He just wanted to cook something! He just wanted to do something mindless, so he would have to think. Frustrated, he slammed his hand down on the smooth surface.
To his surprise, the surface was hot, very hot, and he recoiled instinctively, hissing in pain as his palm made contact with the heated surface. Clutching his hand to his chest, usually small wounds like this one would have never hurt him. It would have healed immediately, so why did his hand still burn?
Before he could fully process the pain, he heard a noise behind him—a soft shuffle of footsteps. Startled, Luo Binghe whirled around to see a figure standing in the doorway, wielding a bat with a tense expression. It was Little Shen, looking both concerned and wary.
"What's going on? Why the yelling?" Shen Yuan's voice was laced with a mixture of curiosity and caution.
Luo Binghe's mind raced, his guard instantly going up. He didn’t need this man to know he was in pain. This person was nothing more than a stepping stone on his path to finding his nicer Shizun. And he was pretty confident he could take that man in a fight; he was small and looked fragile, like a child.
"I'm fine," Luo Binghe replied tersely, his tone clipped. "Just a minor mishap."
The man's brow furrowed in skepticism, but he seemed to sense the dismissal in Luo Binghe's voice. With a wary glance, he lowered the bat, though the tension in his stance remained palpable.
Shen Yuan's brow furrowed, suspicion evident in his eyes. "Are you sure?"
Luo Binghe forced a tight-lipped smile, his gaze unwavering. "Positive. Now, if Little Shen doesn’t mind, this lord needs to focus on his cooking."
Ignoring the throbbing pain in his hand, he turned his attention back to what he wanted to do: cook in peace. He grabbed a bowl and cracked the eggs into it, his movements precise and methodical. As he whisked the eggs together, he couldn't help but glance at Shen Yuan, who had taken a seat at the counter. Fine. He could do that as long as he left him alone.
But Shen Yuan seemed intent on breaking through his walls, his voice breaking through the silence with unexpected persistence. "So, are you planning to share?" he asked, his tone light but curious. "Since you're using my ingredients to cook."
Luo Binghe paused. He hadn't expected the man to engage him in conversation, and he wasn't sure how to respond. Should he ignore him, or should he indulge him with a response? In the end, he settled for the latter, hoping to appease the man's curiosity and get him to leave him alone.
His jaw tightened, his grip on the fork tightening involuntarily. "This lord hasn’t decided yet," he replied coolly, his eyes fixed on the mixture in the bowl.
The kitchen fell silent after that, allowing him to focus on whisking the eggs. The sizzle of the egg hitting the pan was a stark contrast to the soft hum of the appliances in the background. With each stroke, Luo Binghe felt the tension in his muscles ease slightly; the familiar ritual of cooking was nice.
Soon, the omelet began to take shape in the pan, filling the air with its mouthwatering aroma. Luo Binghe's gaze flickered briefly to Shen Yuan, who sat silently at the counter. He could tell he was still watching him as he did something with the strange device in his hands, but he was no longer bothering him. He cut up some of the scallions and added them to the omelet with the cheese. Then he flipped it, encasing the fillings in the egg.
Finally, the omelet finished cooking, Luo Binghe was going to take a bite of the fruits of his labor but Shen Yuan was looking right at him.
He let out a resigned sigh. "Fine," he conceded begrudgingly. You can have some."
Shen Yuan's eyes lit up with genuine surprise, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Really? That's very generous of you, oh great lord." he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm.
Luo Binghe shrugged nonchalantly, his expression unreadable. "Don't get used to it," he replied curtly, his gaze flickering away.
With a sense of relief, Shen Yuan accepted the offer, eagerly reaching for a plate as Luo Binghe began to divide the omelet. As he handed over the food, Shen Yuan's eyes widened with concern.
"Hey, what happened to your hand?" Shen Yuan asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.
Luo Binghe's jaw tightened at the question, his guard momentarily faltering. "It's nothing," he replied dismissively, his tone clipped.
But Shen Yuan was undeterred, rising from his seat with determination. "Wait here," he said, before disappearing into another room.
Luo Binghe watched him go, a faint sense of unease gnawing at the edges of his mind. What was Shen Yuan up to? And why did he suddenly feel so exposed in this stranger's presence?
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shen Yuan returned, holding a small tube in his hand. "Here," he said, extending the tube toward Luo Binghe. "This should help with the burn."
Luo Binghe eyed the tube warily, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Why are you helping this lord?”
Shen Yuan shrugged casually, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Well, despite your initial hostility and weridness, it's clear you're not still disoriented after I hit you with my car."
Luo Binghe's gaze flickered with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. He had grown accustomed to a world where kindness was a rare commodity, especially from strangers. The notion that someone would extend a helping hand without expecting anything in return was foreign to him. Reluctantly, he accepted the tube from Shen Yuan, his fingers brushing against his in the process.
"Thank you," Luo Binghe muttered.
"No problem," Shen Yuan continued, his tone light but earnest as he takes a bite of the omelet.
He took this time to squeeze out the ointment on to his throbbing hand expecting it to get rid of the pain immediately, but all it did was cool his hand and ease the pain. This world had some pretty inferior healing products. He looked back at Little Shen who was happily eating his cooking.
"Wow, this is really good," he exclaimed between bites, his eyes bright with appreciation.
A sense of pride swelled within Luo Binghe at the compliment, a rare warmth spreading through his chest. "Good," he replied, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. "I hope my Shizun appreciates my cooking as much as you do."
Shen Yuan rolled his eyes playfully, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, if he's anything like me, I'm sure he'll love it," he quipped, taking another bite.
The idea of his Shizun enjoying his cooking brought a genuine smile to Luo Binghe's face, a rare moment of vulnerability slipping through his carefully guarded exterior. Would he shower him with praise for something as simple as making him a meal? Would he give him a gentle smile that would heal his very soul like the one he met? But the moment was fleeting, replaced by the familiar mask of indifference as Shen Yuan spoke again.
"Listen," Shen Yuan began, his tone turning more serious, "I've been trying to get my brother off my back about eattign healthier, but he's stubborn as a mule. If you're willing to stick around and cook for me, I'll let you stay and search for your Shizun. Plus I can get some really cool picture of you for my Twitter!"
Luo Binghe's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the unexpected offer because he was planning to offer him some of the gems and gold he had on his person once he got access to them again, but he could handle cooking. After all, it was an easy skill for him to do. Having a place to stay while he searched for his Shizun was too tempting to pass up.
After a moment of consideration, he nodded in agreement. "Deal," he said, his tone firm. "But you need to get better food."
Shen Yuan chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusem*nt. "Fair enough," he replied, extending his hand for a shake.
