Chapter Text
It turned out that Shen Yuan wasn't made for the life of a wandering cultivator.
Partly because it was much harder to find a job than xianxia novels made it look like. Even in the world of PIDW, there just weren't that many villages that needed saving, nor that many people who would pay a wandering cultivator money for slaying a nearby monster.
The other part was that Shen Yuan was fed up with sleeping on forest floors. There was just nothing heroic about finding ants in your clothes and having to take baths in ice-cold water. After a few weeks had passed, Shen Yuan was dirty and stinky and just wanted to eat a hot meal and sleep in a soft bed.
So, he decided that he would have to take a more unorthodox approach to the wandering cultivator life.
PIDW had around forty-two once-in-a-lifetime miracle plants and over a hundred more that weren't on a miracle level, but still highly useful. A lot of these plants were easy to get, as long as you knew where and how to find them.
When Shen Yuan decided to stop sleeping in the dirt and concentrate on his career instead, he made his way to Lüshu City to relieve the overgrown clearing in the forest of some of the Dance of Phoenix and Dragon Flowers. He sold them a few cities over, where the knowledge of the flowers hadn't managed to travel to yet, and that alone made him enough money to buy a house in one of the villages not far from the city.
It was a simple but sturdy little house and, most importantly, it was surrounded by a plot of land with rich soil and natural ponds. In other words, it was perfect to plant a garden full of miracle flowers, medicinal plants, and other useful flora that people might want to buy.
Moving into a house and planting a garden also turned out to be a lot of work, but at least it was work of a different kind. Shen Yuan still didn't get to sleep in a soft bed and had to make do with a straw mat on the floor instead. He still yearned for the sweet comfort of cup ramen and easy entertainment, but at least he could eat warm rice every day while looking through the scrolls he bought from the travellers passing by.
Occasionally, he went on short trips to acquire seeds or shoots of some of these plants. Meanwhile, the Dance of Phoenix and Dragon Flowers helped him save up enough funds to purchase the tools needed for his project while also living in relative comfort.
Slowly, his garden took on shape; the fever-relieving grass taking over one corner, while the wrinkle-reducing holly took up a whole side of the property and still wasn’t enough with how many people bought it. The ponds were full of soul-dream lotuses while fertility roots were growing on the banks. He upgraded his straw mattress to a bed, added vegetables and meat to his bowl of rice, and could even afford a new wardrobe.
And, before Shen Yuan noticed, four months had gone by.
This peaceful time ended on a sunny day. The breeze carried the smell of autumn with it and all around him, the leaves of the trees were starting to change colour. Shen Yuan knew that it wouldn’t be long until winter came. He had been saving money from his sales and was even now making enough that he knew he could get through the winter alright.
Shen Yuan carefully dug out the hair-loss-preventing purple camellias, making sure that he didn’t cut off any of the precious roots as he freed the plant from the soil. Once it was out, he quickly cut off the leafy branches before they could start oozing acid and let them fall into the shallow pit. He brushed the dirt off the roots before putting them into the basket and closing the pit with soil again. Then, he moved on to the next shrub.
He wouldn’t be able to harvest any plant parts in winter, so he had to think about what he was going to do during the cold months. Travel would be miserable, so, if it was unavoidable, it would have to be short distances only, routes he knew would have an inn at the end of them.
Unbidden, the old, recurring thought of visiting Binghe entered his mind. It wouldn’t be so bad to see how he was doing. That was, if he was welcome, which Shen Yuan doubted. In all likelihood, the other man had long forgotten about him and was back to going on adventures and acquiring wives. And if there was one thing worse than not seeing Binghe, it was visiting him and being greeted with a displeased and reluctant expression.
What would he even say? ‘Oh, Binghe, long time no see. I know we had a bit of a falling out, but hey, all is forgotten and forgiven now, right?’
He scoffed and forcefully ripped the next plant out of the soil. Ridiculous. If Sha Hualing didn’t simply kill him for the offence first, he’d simply do it himself, seeing the disgust on Binghe’s face.
No, it was nothing more than a stupid, naive fantasy. Just one that he couldn’t quite forget about.
And it wasn’t like he missed Binghe! Shen Yuan was perfectly content with his life. He had a home and a job he enjoyed, he got to practice his cultivation as much as was possible on his own and he had regular social interaction with the villagers and his other customers. He stabbed his shovel into the soil, cutting off the branches, and glared at them as they fell into the pit.
He was perfectly content.
Shen Yuan was still glaring when he reached the second to last plant in the row. He was just brushing off the roots when a voice came from the entrance gate to his garden.
“Fucking finally, I thought I’d never find you!”
He dropped the root he was holding in surprise and turned his head to see which customer was rude enough to yell at him like that. If this was another one coming for the lube lilies, Shen Yuan would give them to him by shoving them up his ass.
The man who crossed his gate and ambled into his garden was familiar. In fact, Shen Yuan would recognise that ratty face and those darting eyes anywhere. He shot up from where he was crouching on the ground and faced the man.
“Shang Qinghua, what are you doing here?”
Shang Qinghua raised his hands appeasingly but the gesture only intensified Shen Yuan’s urge to give him a good whack. Underneath the aggression, he felt the uncomfortable prickle of fear. What was he doing here? Why had he been looking for him?
“Woah, calm down, bro! I’m not here to rat you out or anything.” Shen Yuan highly doubted that. “I’ve just been looking for you, you know?” He stopped before him and, for the first time, actually looked around. His eyebrows went up and he gave a long whistle. “Oh, not bad. You've done some real work here, made yourself a living… Is that a Man-eating Trumpet Tree over there?”
“Its secretions have pain-relieving effects.”
Shang Qinghua paused his perpetual fidgeting for a moment. “They do? Huh.” his hands started twitching again. “Anyway, are you going to invite me in for tea or…?”
Shen Yuan was still just standing there, not quite sure what to do with the shovel in his hand. He slowly brushed off some of the dirt from his pants. “I wasn't planning to.”
“Aw come on, bro, what have I ever done to you?”
Shen Yuan shot him a deadpan look. In truth, he just didn't want to meet another transmigrator. It made him feel strangely exposed, putting him on guard and making him aggressive. Also, he simply didn't like the guy's face.
“Oh please, you can't seriously tell me you don't want the hottest gossip from the palace.”
Shen Yuan's hand spasmed and the shovel fell to the ground.
Shang Qinghua grinned. “Yeah, that's what I thought.”
“Alright,” Shen Yuan bent down and picked the shovel back up, all the while glaring at him. “You can come in. But don't expect to spend the night here or anything.”
He held the door open for Shang Qinghua who walked into the house, throwing him a wink in passing. Shen Yuan slammed the door shut and pointed to the table in the middle of the room. “Sit there and don't touch anything.”
Shang Qinghua muttered something but went to sit down where he had indicated, so Shen Yuan fled into the kitchen to make tea. He filled the kettle with water and stoked the fire underneath the stove. Then, he stood there, silently staring at the kettle and waiting for the water to boil.
He admitted to himself that he was hiding from his visitor. It felt like he had been dreaming, creating a world of peace and tranquillity, and Shang Qinghua was the rude wake-up call that he wasn't ready for yet.
But his unwanted visitor wasn't going away. In fact, Shen Yuan could hear him making noise in the living room as he poured the tea into the pot. The fear of what Shang Qinghua might be touching and looking at in his absence finally gave him the strength to bring the tea out.
He didn't toss the first brew but poured it into their cups and enjoyed Shang Qinghua’s pained expression at the bitter taste. “Now, what's that gossip you were talking about?”
“You're not one for small talk, are you?”
“I'm a busy man.”
“Busy with what? Watering plants?”
Shen Yuan grabbed his empty teacup, raised his arm and mimed throwing it at the other man. Shang Qinghua finally stopped grinning and ducked out of reflex. Shen Yuan set the cup back on the table.
He wasn't about to destroy his only tea set.
“You're no fun. One would think you'd be happier about meeting someone from the same hometown.”
“I was never really the nostalgic type.”
Shang Qinghua sighed and poured more water from the kettle into the pot. “If you knew how much overtime I've had to do thanks to you.”
Shen Yuan squinted up at him. “What are you talking about?”
Shang Qinghua slumped on the table and raised his cup in a toast. “Bro, before this trip, I hadn't seen the outside in months!”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“Well, I'm pretty sure you're the reason Bingge is depressed.”
Shen Yuan froze. “What?”
“Yeah, it's been horrible. He just doesn't do any of his work anymore, which means it’s on Mobei-Jun, which means it's on me! I've been swamped with work for months now, I haven't slept more than five hours a night in weeks, I'm just so done!”
He plonked his head down on the table and made a quiet wailing sound, but Shen Yuan was still stuck on what he'd said before. “Wait, wait, back up a little. What do you mean, he isn't doing any of his work, why is he depressed? What is he doing?”
Shang Qinghua lifted his head and set his chin on the table to pull a face at him. “Well, I hoped you could tell me that. You must have done something to him, for him to be so out of it. Or is it just that you managed to get away? Are these the ‘the one that got away’ blues?”
“The one that got- No! What?”
“Well, either way, seems like you broke something in Bingge. He's losing wives with the same speed I’m losing B-Points and he doesn't seem to care.”
Shen Yuan almost upended his teacup. “He’s losing wives?”
“I mean, are you really surprised? It wasn’t that hard to figure out where Binghe was when he suddenly fucked off after a wife went missing. And then, when he came back alone and there weren’t any funeral rites either, it was clear that you managed to get away. No one knows how you did it but, after that, one of the wives approached Bingge and asked for permission to leave as well. It was the, uh, the one that was a man before, you know? So it was pretty clear that she wouldn’t come back, even if it wasn’t said out loud. And Bingge, you won’t believe this, bro,” Shang Qinghua leaned forward and looked at him with wide eyes, gleaming with the promise of scandal, “he let her go.”
Abruptly feeling untethered, Shen Yuan grabbed his thigh hard, underneath the tabletop where Shang Qinghua couldn’t see. “Just like that?”
“Just like that! I think the whole palace was in shock for a while. But then another one asked to leave and Luo Binghe allowed her to as well. Then, another one loudly declared she was divorcing him and he got angry for like, a minute or so, but then he just left and let her do whatever. A few days later, a whole group left. It’s only been getting worse since then and he, you know, just doesn’t react. It’s insane!”
The idea was so strange to Shen Yuan, he first thought that Binghe must have simply been busy with something. Surely, something was taking up his attention and that was why he wasn’t paying attention to the wives. But, even as he was thinking it, anxiety bloomed in his chest and coloured his next words. “What is he doing, then?”
Shang Qinghua blew a raspberry. “I don’t know. Sit on his throne and stare into space? Polish his sword? Cry himself to sleep each night? It’s not like I had enough free time to check up on him lately. But there are always rumours flying around the castle, and it doesn’t seem like he’s feeling too fresh, if you know what I mean.”
At that, Shen Yuan couldn’t take it anymore and sprung up from his seat. “I need to go see him.”
“What?” Shang Qinghua jumped up as well. “What about anything I just said made you think that’s a good idea?”
But he was already walking away from the table, frantically thinking about what he needed to pack for a trip to the palace. He was only stopped by a pair of hands grabbing his shoulders, whirling him around, and then Shang Qinghua’s mousey face was right in front of him.
“Bro, Shen Yuan, wait a second, just listen, alright? Take a deep breath and a moment to think.” He shook him a little and Shen Yuan’s teeth clacked against each other. “Do you know how many wives before you managed to escape Bingge once they were in his grasp? None! None, that’s how many. Shen Yuan, this guy is a psychopath! I don’t know how much you’ve seen of the shit that goes on in the palace, but let me tell you, it’s bad! Bingge isn’t someone you can fix or some shit, he’s genuinely a bad guy. He’s rotten to his core and he’s brought so much suffering and death, I just…”
Shang Qinghua’s wide, concerned eyes were staring straight into Shen Yuan’s, his hands still tightly holding onto his shoulders. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea. That he let you go like that, that he let others go because of you, that’s the most you can ever expect him to change, you see? It’s a miracle, really,” he said with a breathless laugh. “Didn’t expect him to ever get that far, to be honest. And it’s good! It’s impressive! Just be satisfied with that. It was one miracle, how many more do you expect to happen? Simply because he softened a little there doesn’t mean he isn’t still a cruel, narcissistic asshole.”
Shen Yuan automatically shook his head, but Shang Qinghua only nodded back at him. “Yes! Yes, he is! Bro, I came here to congratulate you. You managed to get away! That’s great, you should be happy! The stupidest possible thing you could do now is to walk right back into the fucked up little cage you just managed to escape from.”
Suddenly, he felt angry. He roughly freed himself from Shang Qinghua’s hold and pushed him away. “Don’t talk about him like that. He’s not all that, he had his reasons for what he did!”
“His reasons?” Shang Qinghua’s voice went high in disbelief. “His reasons? Bro, even if the abuse he went through actually justified what he did to… Shen Qingqiu or- or Ming Fan- how does it excuse him from killing all the innocents on Qang Qiong, or the women he pressured into marrying him, or all the minor villains he slaughtered without even checking if they actually deserved it, just because he didn’t care?”
Without meaning to, Shen Yuan raised his voice as well. “We both know Binghe wasn’t in his right mind when he burned down Cang Qiong!”
“Not in his- Bro, what? Other people aren’t in their right mind either sometimes and they don’t burn down an entire sect and kill hundreds of-”
“And with the minor villains, so what? They knew beforehand that they didn’t stand a chance against Binghe. Maybe they shouldn’t have gotten in his way if they didn’t want to experience the consequences! And Binghe isn’t unfair anyway! He only punishes those who deserve it, in his mind-”
“In his mind! But we both know his mind is fucked up! He’s totally killed people before just because they remind him of Shen Qingqiu!”
“And as for his wives, what do you mean, pressured? It’s Binghe, who wouldn’t happily marry him if he asked?”
Shang Qinghua, who had just opened his mouth to speak and was jabbing his finger in Shen Yuan’s direction, suddenly paused. “What did you just say?”
Shen Yuan wildly waved his hand through the air and loudly continued: “It’s the protagonist, peerlessly beautiful and perfect. Even if they were hesitant at first, who wouldn’t fall in love with him after having spent more than a minute with him? He-”
Suddenly, he realised that Shang Qinghua had given up his confrontational stance and was now watching him with wide eyes, one of his hands firmly pressed against his mouth.
“What,” he asked defensively.
“Shit,” Shang Qinghua whispered. “Bro, you’re insane.”
“I’m not-”
“Did you really just say that no one would ever deny Luo Binghe because he’s just too beautiful?”
Shen Yuan’s face grew hot. “No! I didn’t… look, it’s whatever. Anyway, if he’s like that because of anything I- that happened between us, then I need to go make it right again. I couldn’t- Can you stop looking at me like that?”
Shang Qinghua dragged his hand from his mouth to his eyes and stood there silently for a while.
Finally, he said: “Alright. Alright, whatever. Then go see him. Just one thing. If you really want to go back to that snake pit, do me a favour and disguise yourself so he won’t know it’s you. Just, watch for a while and listen. And if you still want to talk to him then, you can. But if you decide that you’d rather get out of there, that option would be open too.”
Shen Yuan deflated a little. That… was probably sensible. Didn’t he refuse to go back to the palace just a few months ago? And now he wanted to rush back at the mere mention that Binghe might still be sad?
Still, he could admit now that he might have… missed Binghe a bit. And that he had thought about visiting him anyway. And Shang Qinghua made a good point. As much as he wanted to see Binghe again, maybe it was better to be cautious.
Still, there was a problem. “And what disguise wouldn’t make Binghe immediately suspicious?”
“Oh,” Shang Qinghua said and gave him an impish smile. “Leave that to me.”
***
Shang Qinghua turned out to be in the possession of a portal amulet, gifted to him by Mobei-Jun himself. Shen Yuan looked at him dubiously when he said that, but couldn't deny that it made things much more convenient. He had already been mentally preparing himself for the loss of some of his plants with how long the trip would have taken otherwise.
As it was, he simply packed his qiankun bag and they could leave.
The portal amulet was a round wooden disk with a dial. Shang Qinghua looped the necklace over both of their heads, coming uncomfortably close in the process, and fiddled with the dial. “It’s got a few pre-programmed locations,” he said, his breath hitting Shen Yuan in the face.
Shen Yuan grimaced and tilted his head away. He appreciated the reminder that, despite what had happened with Binghe, he didn’t suddenly find all men attractive.
Without a warning, the amulet started to hum. There was a strange tug under his sternum and, when he opened his eyes again, he was looking up at the high walls of the underground palace.
For a second, he was brought back to a few months ago, when he just managed to sneak out of the palace, pressing himself along the walls to avoid being seen by the guards. Then, he looked around and realised that they weren’t outside the walls, but rather looking at them from the inside. The amulet had transported them to a courtyard that was completely overgrown with trees and bushes, and it was dark enough that, at first, Shen Yuan had assumed they were in a forest.
“This part of the palace hasn’t been used since Tianlang-Jun’s times. I use it as an out-of-the-way landing zone, so to say.”
Now that Shen Yuan knew what to look for, he could vaguely see wooden walls through the gaps in the foliage. As they walked closer, stepping over overgrown weeds and scraggly bushes, a door came into view. The wood was weathered and one of the bottom corners had broken away. In general, the whole building looked like it had seen better days and Shen Yuan watched his step carefully as he entered behind Shang Qinghua.
These had to have been the rooms of a concubine or a wife, a long time ago, going by the broken room dividers, a faded painting of mandarin ducks on them, and the generous, intricately carved bed, the sheets long since stripped from it.
Shang Qinghua sat Shen Yuan down on the bare bed and waved his hands. “Good, good, you just wait here. I’m going to go get your disguise.” He speedily walked across the room and vanished through the door leading further into the palace, throwing a last “Just wait a moment” over his shoulder.
Shen Yuan was left alone in the oppressive silence of the decrepit rooms. The weight of his decision made itself known, then. He was back in the palace, where it all started, and enclosed by the dark, towering walls, he felt very small suddenly.
Would Binghe be happy seeing him? Or would he dismiss Shen Yuan? Who was to say that what Shang Qinghua had said was even true? For all that he knew, Binghe could be depressed about something else entirely.
But he was here now and, with the pressure of Shang Qinghua returning soon, Shen Yuan knew that he couldn’t change his mind. He’d made his decision; he had to see it through now.
In no time at all, the door opened again and Shang Qinghua entered, a bundle of cloth in his arms. He shuffled over to the bed and dropped them onto it. Women’s robes spilled over Shen Yuan’s lap and Shang Qinghua dropped a pair of dainty shoes onto the floor.
“No,” Shen Yuan said.
“Yes. Listen, bro, it’s really the best disguise you can wear in the palace. The guards all know each other, but wives? There are hundreds of those and a new one pops up every week. No one keeps track, so no one will bat an eye if one turns up that they don’t recognise.”
Shen Yuan grimaced but couldn’t refute that logic. “Where did you even get that from?”
Shang Qinghua shrugged. “The laundry room. It’s not nearly as heavily guarded as the actual harem, so I could just sneak in there when no one was looking.”
Shen Yuan looked at the clothes and lit a candle in his heart for his only recently regained masculinity. With a deep sigh, he picked them up and took them behind the room divider.
Thankfully, he had already gotten some experience with putting on ornate robes, the last time he had been in the palace. Soon, the ties were tied and everything was in its proper place. He was about to remind Shang Qinghua that his face was still uncovered, when he pulled down a sheer shawl from the divider and a veil slipped to the ground along with it. “Ah.”
In the end, he was covered in sheer, light green from head to toe. Of his face, only his eyes and his forehead were visible, and he had tied the top portion of his hair up in a painfully anachronistic knot. In PIDW, though, he fit right into the harem.
Shang Qinghua clapped a few times when Shen Yuan finally emerged. “Bro, if I didn’t know better, I’d try to fuck you myself.”
“Thank Heavens it won’t come to that.”
“Alright, so, listen up,” Shang Qinghua walked over and clapped his shoulder. “Bingge is in the throne room right now, holding audiences. I’ve listened around a bit and there seem to be at least thirty or so other wives in the room, so you won’t catch much attention if you just sit down somewhere with a book. Ah, that reminds me!” He rummaged around in his robe pocket, much too deeply for it to be anything but a qiankun pocket, and pulled out a book. “Here you go.”
Shen Yuan flipped it open. “A Guide to a Happy Marriage?”
Shang Qinghua shrugged. “I just hopped over to the library and grabbed the first book I saw, don’t complain.”
He stuffed his old clothes into his qiankun pouch and made sure it was safely hidden under his robes and that his fans were secure in his sleeves. Then, he turned around to say goodbye.
“I’ll wait here for two hours or so,” Shang Qinghua said. “I could do with a nap anyway. If you decide to leave, just return here and I’ll get you out. If time runs out and you’re not back yet, I’ll assume your sanity deserted you and you decided to stay.”
Shen Yuan nodded and reached for the door. Before he touched it, however, he paused. “What you said before, about Binghe… You’re right, he has done all that. But he’s not only his bad parts either. He started out good, didn’t he? It’s only the circumstances, his life, and that he was pushed into horrible situations again and again, that made him who he is. But I’d like to believe that he can be good again, if he’s given the chance. That he is capable of choosing a different path. I don’t know if he will but… I refuse to just give up on him.”
Shang Qinghua was staring at him and, for the first time, his emotions weren’t hidden by sleazy smiles and sharp gestures. Instead, his mouth was twisted and his eyebrows drawn together in an uncomfortable expression. He looked, Shen Yuan thought, maybe a little uncertain.
As the silence dragged on, Shen Yuan quickly said: “And anyway, it’s all that hack author’s fault anyway, selling Binghe out for gratification and whump points. Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky can count himself lucky we’re not in the same world anymore or I’d tear him a new one!”
At that, Shang Qinghua’s eyes widened before he quickly gave a somewhat forced-looking smile. “Ahaha yeah! He better hope he never meets us, that author!”
Shen Yuan gave him a look at his weird behaviour. “Well, whatever, I’ll be going now. Goodbye.” He finally opened the door, checked that the hallway was empty and stepped out.
As he walked away, he heard a quiet voice from behind him. “Good luck, bro.”
Then, the door closed.
Binghe had held audiences when Shen Yuan had been in the palace the last time as well. Most of the time, though, they had been closed off to the wives. At the time, Binghe had been negotiating with a particular violent clan from the West and the audiences were deemed too dangerous for most wives to join. The one time there was an audience open to all wives, Shen Yuan had missed it, simply because he was too unpopular to get the latest news and gossip.
Now, he stood in front of the open doors, clutching his book with white knuckles. Voices and light came from the throne room and yet, Shen Yuan was rooted to the spot. He only managed to get himself to move when a group of women walked past him into the room, chattering among themselves. He quickly followed them, close enough so that he didn’t stand out.
From where they entered, Binghe’s throne was to the far left, the delegation of demons standing before him. On the left side of the room, a set of giant doors opened to the outside, revealing hundreds of golden stairs going down to the palace grounds. All along the walls, benches and tables were set up for the wives to sit at. At least thirty or forty of them had gathered, watching the delegation, playing go, or reading.
Shen Yuan didn’t dare look up as they turned left and walked along the edge of the room closer to the throne. He didn’t want to know if he was being watched.
They settled down on one of the benches and he sat close enough to the group that others would assume he belonged to them, but not close enough that they’d try to talk to him. Then, he took out his book, opened it, and looked out over its edge into the room.
The delegation of demons was a group of nine people, wrapped in black veils that covered every inch of their bodies, including their faces. The only parts that were left uncovered were their dark antlers, growing from the tops of their heads high into the air. All around them, the wives watched them like a flock of colourful birds, chattering and laughing quietly.
Having the wives in the room served two purposes. On the one hand, it was great entertainment for the wives themselves, most of whom didn’t get out much and thus appreciated seeing something novel now and then. On the other hand, it was a strangely effective intimidation tactic for the ones being watched.
The demon at the front of the group was talking, their voice quiet and raspy. It was about a conflict they had with another clan, as far as Shen Yuan could tell, who kept invading their territory.
As the demon kept talking, and time passed without there being any indication that he had been discovered, Shen Yuan slowly relaxed. Slowly, carefully, he tilted his head a little and glanced over to the throne.
Oh. Oh no, Binghe.
Luo Binghe sat on his golden throne, pale and cold, looking like tragedy. His hair was an unkempt mess, barely being held together by the last remnants of a braid. His robes were too plain for an emperor; black, tightly bound, and practical. His face was drawn, the corners of his mouth tilted downwards and dark shadows under his blank eyes. Shen Yuan wasn’t sure if he was even seeing the demons in front of him.
Shen Yuan had prepared himself for many possible sights. Seeing Binghe looking like an utter mess hadn't been one of them.
This couldn’t be because of him. No matter what Shang Qinghua had said, there was no way that Binghe was like that, because of him! It was just impossible, Shen Yuan desperately tried to convince himself.
The demon paused their speech, seemingly waiting for a reaction from Binghe. When none came even after long seconds of waiting, they raised their volume, desperation entering their voice. “Your Majesty, they are stealing our food rations and destroying our temples! They need to be-”
Shen Yuan watched in horrified fascination as Binghe only continued staring blankly at him. The atmosphere in the room was slowly changing in response to his silence, the laughter and easy chatting of the wives being replaced by uneasy murmurs.
“Has he gotten worse?” One of the women in the group next to him whispered. “He wasn't that silent a week ago.”
“It's an improvement, in my opinion,” another whispered. “Better than the temper tantrums at least.”
“If things go on like this, maybe I'll leave too,” the first one said.
A third one snorted. “Where would you even go?”
As the women continued talking, Shen Yuan stared in the general direction of the throne, not seeing anything at all. A shudder went over his back as he considered, for the first time, that Binghe was like that because he really cared that much about Shen Yuan.
He had read so many chapters detailing how Binghe play-acted vulnerability to win a wife, sometimes even convincing himself along with the wife, how he had fallen in love again and again, only to forget about her as soon as that plot arc was over. Even if Binghe had been sincere when he opened up to him, on some level, Shen Yuan had expected that Binghe would easily forget him as soon as they went their separate ways.
Seeing clear evidence that it wasn't so made him re-evaluate. He thought back to all these times Binghe had been vulnerable with him, back in the Shashan mountains and then again, at Bo Manor, and even when he had left, hurt and angry.
Was it different than it had been with the other wives? Shen Yuan would have never allowed himself to think so if the proof wasn't right in front of him. But he still didn't understand why. What did he do to cause such an unusual reaction?
He couldn't deny that he liked the thought, however. Even though it was inexplicable to him; if it was actually true… Then it meant Binghe needed him.
Shen Yuan tightened his hands around the book at the feeling that thought gave him.
At the same time, Binghe finally awakened from his trance and said with a rough voice: “I will think about your request and call you when I’ve decided. You may stay in the palace until then.”
It was obvious they were dismissed. The demons shifted in dismay, their dissatisfaction heavy in the room. But they knew that they could not force Binghe, so in the end, they turned around and were led out of the room by a servant waiting for them by the door.
The audience came to an end, at that point, going by the way several of the wives stood and started making their way out of the room. One of them, however, made her way up to Binghe instead. Shen Yuan quickly recognised her from the veil covering her face.
Liu Mingyan approached Binghe, put one of her hands on the throne’s armrest, and started whispering to him in furious hisses.
Several more wives hastily stood and left the room, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation happening, until the room was almost emptied. When even the group next to him got up and left, Shen Yuan grew uncomfortably aware of the fact that, soon, it'd only be him, Binghe and Liu Mingyan left in the room. If he wanted to leave, he needed to do so now.
He slowly rubbed one of the book’s pages between his fingertips and stayed exactly where he was.
“...irresponsible… neglecting your duties…” Stray words drifted over to Shen Yuan in between the whispering and the room cleared out even more quickly until it was indeed finally only them left.
He ducked his head and tried to seem very engrossed in his book.
Eventually, Binghe said something, too quiet for Shen Yuan to hear. Liu Mingyan made a frustrated noise and, with a “Do what you will, there's no reasoning with you,” she whirled around and stormed out of the room.
Binghe was left sitting on his throne and Shen Yuan grew a little sweaty. Would he be noticed now? Would he say something?
But Binghe remained silent. After a long, quiet moment, he sighed and got up from the throne. With slow, measured steps, he walked across the room, right towards Shen Yuan.
Shen Yuan’s breath hitched. Had he been found out? Or was Binghe about to approach him, thinking he was one of the wives? If so, he would experience quite the shock when-
Binghe walked past him.
Because he just wanted to get to the door, of course. Shen Yuan wanted to hit himself. How many times did they have to do this before it sank in?
But now Binghe was about to leave and panic shot through Shen Yuan. He needed to talk to him, he couldn’t just let him go now!
He cleared his throat.
A few steps away, Binghe froze in his tracks. He was utterly quiet in his shock, his shoulders tense and his hands still.
Shen Yuan closed his book, set it to the side, and stood. Binghe finally turned around and stared as he took off the veil and met his eyes.
“Hello.”
“Shen Yuan,” Binghe whispered.
As the silence dragged on, Shen Yuan shifted nervously. He was painfully aware of the clothes he was wearing and how ridiculous he looked in them. “I was just passing by, travelling. And I thought I might stop by for a visit. See how you’re doing.”
Binghe grimaced, just for a moment, and Shen Yuan fell silent again. They both knew that his appearance spoke for itself.
“I’m alright,” Binghe said.
“Hm,” Shen Yuan answered.
There was more silence and it wore him down until the discomfort in his chest bubbled over and spilled out of his mouth. “Are you? I mean, are you really? Of course, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I just…” He exhaled loudly and forced himself to calm down. He wanted to do this right. He didn’t think he’d get another chance.
“Listen, if you tell me right now that you’re happy like this, that this is what you want, then I’ll never say anything ever again. But if you’re not, then I just want you to know that it doesn’t have to be this way. There are other things you could do, without having to give it all up. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. I know I said a lot of things when we parted, but the truth is; I just want you to be happy. That’s all I want. So… are you happy?”
Binghe stared at him with slightly wide eyes and Shen Yuan awkwardly waited for him to process all of what he’d just said. Eventually, the corner of Binghe’s mouth twitched up into what could almost be called a smile and he slowly, slowly closed his eyes.
He looked defeated, the way he stood there, his head lowered, his hands tense, and his face a study of desperate amusement and, finally, resignation.
“I thought,” he said, “that this is everything I ever wanted. I should be happy. Heaven knows I should be happy.” And then, quieter: “I don’t know why I’m not.”
Shen Yuan took a quick step forward, wanting to touch, to soothe, before he remembered himself and stopped. “You know,” he said after a moment. “It’s not so unusual. I think a lot of people find out, later in life, that what they thought would make them happy doesn’t anymore. And, you know, they try out something different, then.”
Binghe opened his eyes just a sliver and looked at him tiredly.
Shen Yuan quickly continued. “It doesn’t mean you have to give up everything! You could still be emperor and keep the palace. Just, leave sometimes. Try out new things. Find out what makes you happy. I figure you need a holiday anyway.”
“My duties…” Binghe said weakly, but it was the most token of protests, and they both knew it.
“You’re not going to get anything done like this, anyway,” Shen Yuan said softly. “Take a holiday, relax a bit, and then you’ll be able to do your duties again.”
Binghe stayed silent, so Shen Yuan quickly added: “I have a house now, you know? It’s not much, but it’s got a bed and a kitchen. You could cook there if you wanted to, I made sure it has everything you might need. And there’s a garden, it- it’s modest, but fairly nice, I think. You can stay with me, while you decide what you want to do. Or… Or as long as you want, really.”
At some point during his speech, Binghe had lifted his head and started staring at him openly. When Shen Yuan finished, his face had transformed into something wide-eyed and almost vulnerable. One of his hands unclenched and twitched towards Shen Yuan, just for a moment.
It was enough.
Slowly, Shen Yuan took a few steps forward until they were very close. “Binghe,” he said. “Can I touch you?”
Binghe averted his eyes and his face shuttered. Still, after a second or two, he nodded, just barely.
Shen Yuan nodded back and carefully reached out until his hand closed around Binghe’s upper arm. Then, he gently pulled him into his arms.
Binghe had to duck to bury his face in Shen Yuan’s shoulder but, somehow, he managed it. Shen Yuan slung his arms around his back in turn and embraced him tightly, pulling him in further and squeezing tightly. Against the skin of his neck, Binghe shuddered out a breath.
They stood like that for a long while, the only sounds in the room Binghe’s uneven breaths. Shen Yuan closed his eyes and stroked Binghe’s hair, tangled and greasy as it was.
Eventually, so quiet as to be nearly inaudible, Shen Yuan heard a whispered “Alright.”
He tightened his hand in Binghe’s hair before releasing it again and slowly untangling himself from their hug. At first, Binghe held on tightly, unwilling to let go, but Shen Yuan slid a hand down his arm and firmly interlaced their fingers until their palms met in a warm touch.
When Binghe was upright again and they could look at each other, Shen Yuan gave his hand a firm squeeze. “Alright,” he echoed him. “Is there anything you want to get before we go? Do you need to tell anyone?”
Binghe glanced towards the door leading deeper into the palace with a lost look in his eyes. Finally, he shook his head.
Shen Yuan exhaled a quiet, exasperated laugh but, secretly, he was relieved. “Alright, then. Let’s go.”
He turned and tugged at where their hands were still tightly clasped together. After a moment, Binghe stumbled after him.
This time, they left through the front door.