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Even before Shen Qingqiu had transmigrated, things had a funny way of being Airplane-bro’s fault. While this wasn’t a particularly difficult achievement for Shang Qinghua considering most of Shen Qingqiu’s pre-transmigration life revolved around PIDW updates in the first place, it was especially true post-transmigration for... obvious reasons.
But, this...
Shen Qingqiu stares down at the sheet of paper in front of him.
He’s not sure this will be a very big problem at all.
-
Shen Qingqiu finds out about it sometime after the Skinner Demon, sometime before Liu Qingge’s qi deviation.
Before locking himself up in seclusion in the caves, he figures he may as well take stock of Qing Jing peak first. He already is more or less acquainted with the disciples and picks up on their lessons fairly quickly. He still doesn’t quite know how to hone in on the cultivation the original goods have left him with, but it’s nothing that secluded meditation won’t be able to fix!
It’s been several weeks since Luo Binghe has moved into the side room, and now that the flow of peak lords visiting him has ebbed, he can finally take a look at the bamboo house as a whole. Especially with Luo Binghe still asleep.
It’s not often that Luo Binghe sleeps like this. Both his own instincts and the ordeal the original goods put him through had him up with the sunrise on a usual day, but ever so often Shen Qingqiu cancels morning classes when the disciples look especially tired and lets them wake up when they feel like it. So long as that time isn’t too late in the afternoon, Shen Qingqiu is willing to turn a blind eye.
He can’t expect little growing buns to be up that early every single day! It was just unreasonable!
With no small amount of amusement, Shen Qingqiu finds that on these mornings, nothing short of an earthquake is able to wake Luo Binghe.
Other than, somehow, Shen Qingqiu calling for him.
He spares a smile at the thought and goes back to looking around, meandering around the rooms.
He scoffs when he spots the original goods’ taste in ornaments in one of the drawers in his bedroom. These tacky things, they don’t even look like they’d cost any money! Shen Qingqiu refuses to feel any sort of pity for that scumbag, but it’s clear there that he’d been scammed. And he’d gone so far as to hide them away like precious jewels. Even rich, immortal masters can’t tell the difference between real and fake, huh?
Shen Qingqiu checks the next one.
Just some ledgers, bestiaries that haven’t been returned to the libraries, and letters to some Qi-ge? What kind of unfortunate name was that?
He closes this drawer without another thought. Boring!
To his surprise, when he pulls at the bottom-most drawer, it doesn’t budge. Shen Qingqiu tugs on it several more times.
What the hell?
Is this a plot device? Is Shen Qingqiu about to get attacked if he opens this? Has Luo Binghe blackened without him looking and set up some strange trap??
Then, Shen Qingqiu remembers that Luo Binghe is barely fourteen and he doesn’t even remember a plot like this happening so early on, so he uses some spiritual energy to force the door open anyway.
He overshoots the amount he needs severely.
The drawer comes flying out and the contents inside scatter around the room.
For a moment, Shen Qingqiu isn’t sure what he’s looking at.
Because he is in a stallion novel, so he knows Airplane Towards the Sky wouldn’t be so senile to somehow include a sticker sheet into this world.
Shen Qingqiu, from an objective PIDW reader standpoint, thinks this is ridiculous. This is a cultivation world. He has transmigrated fully expecting to do away with things from his original world, like television and the internet and all the novels he had been meaning to pick up after Proud Immortal Demon Way. He can let the atrocious sex and gaping plot holes slide in the face of that. But what the fuck were stickers doing here?!
But.
On the other hand...
From the standpoint of a peak lord who has the sole responsibility of teaching little children and making sure they grow into their role as the future generation of cultivators, this is... not a bad addition! Tiny mantou cheeks filled with stickers, the smiles of little disciples when they receive them...
You know what! Good job, Airplane-bro! You did something useful for once in your writing career!
Shen Qingqiu pointedly does not think about the fact that the existence of a sticker sheet in his own drawers implies that the original goods would have made use of them. His only reprieve is the fact that no such scene exists in the novel. There’s enough cognitive dissonance going on in his head already without the added image of the scum villain holding stickers in his hands.
He sits down at the table and looks at the stickers. All of them are stars in various shapes and colors, taking up the entire sheet. He imagines what they’d look like on his disciple’s cheeks.
...Too cute!!!!!
Before he uses them, though, he needs a test subject. Just to make sure the disciples will react correctly. And who else better than—
“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu calls, at a normal volume.
He commends this body’s ability to keep a still face when he doesn’t burst into laughter when he immediately hears the sound of sheets shuffling and then a large thump. Luo Binghe must have fallen off the bed in his haste. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Sure enough, the door to the side room opens quickly and Luo Binghe appears in front of Shen Qingqiu wearing his sleeping robes and his hair all sorts of tangled.
Shen Qingqiu sighs. “There was no need to rush.”
Luo Binghe bows immediately. “This one apologizes, Shizun! I know Shizun wouldn’t have called this one out of bed for any reason, so I knew I must hurry over no matter what.”
This disciple... What exactly is Shen Qingqiu going to do with him?
The candlelight reflects off of the stickers in Shen Qingqiu’s hand, reminding him of the task at hand.
“It’s nothing so serious,” he starts dismissively. He gestures to the space beside him. “Relax and sit down for a moment. This Shizun would just like Binghe’s input on something, and then you may feel free to go back to bed.”
Luo Binghe does as he’s told. “Shizun wants my input?”
“Yes,” Shen Qingqiu says simply. “I want to test out a new incentive amongst the other disciples, and thought I would see if it would be something you were interested in. If it’s the case, then I have no doubt that most of the other disciples will agree.”
Luo Binghe nods in a semblance of understanding. “If this disciple may ask, what incentive methods were Shizun thinking of?”
Shen Qingqiu smiles, peels the largest golden sticker he sees off of the sheet, and puts it right on Luo Binghe’s forehead.
“Shi-Shizun,” Luo Binghe says, going cross-eyed in an effort to see it. “What is this?”
“A star,” Shen Qingqiu explains, while not explaining at all.
Luo Binghe’s brow furrows, making his entire face puff up like a dumpling. “A...star? Shizun, this disciple is very stupid, he doesn’t understand.”
Shen Qingqiu flips the sticker sheet around in his hand so Luo Binghe can get a look.
Luo Binghe reaches out his hand tentatively, before reaching back at the last second and giving Shen Qingqiu a hesitant look.
Shen Qingqiu tilts his head. “Feel free to touch them.”
Luo Binghe reaches for the sheet again, fingers delicately tracing the stars with his index finger. “If this disciple may ask, what are these?”
“They’re called stickers,” Shen Qingqiu explains.
“Stickers,” Luo Binghe repeats with wonder.
“Mm. They do as they sound; stick to a person. Many come in different shapes and colors, but stars are fairly popular in educational settings.”
Luo Binghe looks at the sticker sheet for another moment, processing Shen Qingqiu’s words. “Do stars look like this?”
“No,” Shen Qingqiu says, with all the patience of a man frantically trying to remember his science lessons from primary school. “Stars are... spheres. To us, however, because we’re so far from where the rest of the galaxy lies, they look pointy. To make sense of that, people drew this shape, and called it stars.”
Luo Binghe nods, accepting Shen Qingqiu’s answer at face value. Almost shyly, he follows up with, “Why... why did Shizun give me one then?”
“This is the incentive I was talking about. I’m thinking of giving them as a reward for doing well. These stars signify intelligence and brightness, and a job well done,” Shen Qingqiu bullshits.
Luo Binghe’s eyes widen. “And... Shizun will give one to me?”
“I’ve already given one to you,” Shen Qingqiu corrects gently.
Luo Binghe splutters. “Shizun, I haven’t done anything to deserve this!”
Shen Qingqiu tuts. “Nonsense. Binghe has more than enough to deserve such a small thing.”
Luo Binghe flushes in embarrassment.
Shen Qingqiu isn’t surprised. Considering the person Luo Binghe would grow into in the future, there was no doubt he must be feeling some sort of shame at being treated like one would a smaller child.
Luo Binghe blinks once, and suddenly his eyes are wet.
Shen Qingqiu watches as a tear drips down shortly after, stunned. He didn’t realize he was embarrassing Luo Binghe to the point of tears!
Luo Binghe wipes away at them furiously, lowering his head as if to hide them from Shen Qingqiu.
Shen Qingqiu sighs, recovering from the shock quickly. It’s not the first time he’s seen Luo Binghe burst out into tears. “Don’t cry any longer. Is this the last thing you want your Shizun to see before I leave for seclusion?”
Luo Binghe shakes his head, inhaling shakily. “I apologize, Shizun.”
“If it bothers you so much, this Shizun won’t do it again.”
“No!” Luo Binghe says vehemently.
Shen Qingqiu raises an eyebrow.
Luo Binghe continues earnestly, “Shizun, it doesn’t bother me!”
“If you’re sure,” Shen Qingqiu starts.
“I’m sure!” Luo Binghe insists again, slapping his hand over his sticker as if Shen Qingqiu’s going to take it back. “I will treasure this!”
Shen Qingqiu sighs, but sees no need to argue any further.
-
Shen Qingqiu quickly figures out how it works: He can use the sticker sheet for as long as he wants, and when he’s done with one, another one will somehow automatically find its way into his drawer. There is absolutely no logic to it, but Shen Qingqiu knows he’ll get no answers.
It becomes a common sight in the weeks and months that come to pass, especially once Shen Qingqiu has returned with Liu Qingge from secluded cultivation: Qing Jing peak disciples running around with stars on their cheeks and hearts in their eyes.
-
Of course, because disciples and respected sect leaders alike are eager to sink their teeth into the latest gossip, it’s not long before Shen Qingqiu’s sudden and uncharacteristic affliction of actually rewarding his disciples becomes the hot topic for the entire mountain.
“Well, it’s one way to keep them incentivized,” Qi Qingqi comments at the next peak lord meeting with begrudging respect.
And it’s working, Shen Qingqiu thinks with a nod of acknowledgment in her direction. His disciples have been more motivated than they ever have before, even when said motivation already stemmed from the occasional rest day and head pat. It’s all very cute.
“It’s coddling,” Liu Qingge says.
Shen Qingqiu gives him a look. “Just because I am not beating my disciples to the ground doesn’t make it coddling.”
Liu Qingge says frustratedly, “They are running around like children.”
“They are children,” Shen Qingqiu feels the need to point out. And of all people, should Liu Qingge really be one to talk about how to raise disciples?
Liu Qingge glares. “Children that will never grow into anything substantial at this rate,” he says heatedly. “How will they grow into adults?”
Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “I didn’t realize Liu-shidi cared so much about the next generation.”
Liu Qingge huffs.
Shen Qingqiu side-eyes him mischievously. “Could it be that Liu-shidi is jealous?”
Liu Qingge immediately chokes. “I am not.”
Qi Qingqi watches the exchange with thinly veiled amusement. Shang Qinghua watches with horribly concealed trepidation.
Shen Qingqiu, none-the-wiser, sighs and reaches into his sleeves. Taking out his latest sticker page, already half-empty, he comments, “Well if that was the case, all you had to do was say something.”
He peels off a blue star.
Liu Qingge, perhaps still too stunned by the accusation to stop him, does nothing as Shen Qingqiu reaches over and sticks it to the back of his hand. It complements his robes, Shen Qingqiu thinks amusedly, as he watches Liu Qingge’s entire face turn red with rage.
After a beat, Shen Qingqiu opens his fan to cover his face. “Well then. If there’s no other issue, can we move on to more important matters?”
Yue Qingyuan smiles, one of deep resignation at his martial siblings’ antics. Shen Qingqiu sympathizes completely.
“Yes, Qingqiu-shidi. Let’s do that.”
-
One day, when the sky is thundering outside, Luo Binghe comes running in, devastated. “Shizun!”
Shen Qingqiu gets up immediately. “What’s happened? And where on Earth is your umbrella?”
Luo Binghe’s hair is wet and sticking to his face, and his entire body is soaked along with it.
He doesn’t dare walk past the entrance, forcing Shen Qingqiu to make the trek all the way over to him. Shen Qingqiu quickly checks him over, holding his chin to turn his head this way and that. “Are you injured somewhere?” He asks, just to be sure.
Luo Binghe pulls back from the touch in order to bow deeply.
“Binghe?!”
“Shizun, I ask for punishment!”
Shen Qingqiu balks. “What in the world are you talking about?” He pulls Luo Binghe back into a standing position and puts his hand on Luo Binghe’s damp forehead. The skin under his palm heats up. “You’re running a fever.”
“No, no,” Luo Binghe says, shaking his head hard.
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t push him. “Then what happened?”
Luo Binghe lifts his hands.
It is only now that Shen Qingqiu registers that throughout all of this, Luo Binghe’s palms have been steadfastly cupping something close. Probably the reason why he had to abandon his umbrella in the first place. When Luo Binghe’s fingers unfurl, what lay inside are the stickers he’s given to Luo Binghe since the morning.
The edges are slightly blackened and curled up, lying limp in Luo Binghe’s hand as if the stickiness on them had finally run out.
Ah. Luo Binghe’s rushing in makes a little more sense now.
“Did they fall off?” Shen Qingqiu questions.
Luo Binghe flinches, then nods, his face pinching up. “I- Shizun, I promised I was making sure they stayed on carefully. I thought I didn’t touch it at all. But I still ruined it. I accept any punishment,” Luo Binghe finishes solemnly.
“What punishment? This isn’t something you have to worry about. Just throw them away if they no longer stay on.”
Luo Binghe looks horrified at the suggestion. “I won’t throw them away! These are the ones Shizun gave me.”
Shen Qingqiu hums. “Binghe will definitely get more. These wouldn’t have lasted forever to begin with. They are only made to stay sticky for a day or two, and then you throw them out. Getting them wet will also make them more prone to falling off.”
Luo Binghe still looks upset.
“They’re not made to last forever,” Shen Qingqiu explains again. “Shizun is not upset with you.”
Luo Binghe still looks unconvinced but nods, unwilling to argue the point further. Then, his face morphs into horror. “Ah- The rainwater!”
Shen Qingqiu starts. He had almost forgotten that Luo Binghe was dripping water all through the doorway.
Luo Binghe falls back into a bow. “Shizun! This one will clean your floors immediately!”
Shen Qingqiu sighs and waves his hand. “Don’t worry about this. It’s too late right now. Get some sleep and do it tomorrow.”
Luo Binghe doesn’t raise his head. “This foolish disciple insists on doing it now! How can Shizun walk around if the floors are wet?” His voice is once again thick with distress.
Shen Qingqiu raises a hand to his forehead. “All right, all right. Clean now, and then straight to bed with you. How else do you expect to grow tall and strong if you stay up this late doing chores?”
Luo Binghe sniffles once and nods determinedly. “Then this one will get started right away!”
-
Years pass like this. The day of the conference grows closer, and Shen Qingqiu tries to hold Luo Binghe’s maiden heart together with stars in place of bandaids.
-
On the day of the Immortal Alliance Conference, Shen Qingqiu presses a sticker to Luo Binghe’s forehead, another on his cheek, and a third one on the back of his palms. It gives Shen Qingqiu déjà vu back to the first time he’s realized the existence of the stickers in the first place.
Luo Binghe glows. “Shizun!” He cries and falls into Shen Qingqiu for a hug.
Wrapping his arms around his disciple, Shen Qingqiu feels something bloom and consequently shrivel up in his chest. “Don’t delay any longer or you won’t win anything at all,” he says, resting one hand on Luo Binghe’s head and the other on his arm. Somehow, without Shen Qingqiu noticing, the Luo Binghe who had once barely passed his chest had already caught up to him in height.
Luo Binghe laughs and nods his head in agreement.
Shen Qingqiu can only watch as he runs off to his demise.
-
Luo Binghe falls.
More accurately, Luo Binghe is pushed.
Pushed, like how Shen Qingqiu would push stickers onto Luo Binghe’s palm and cheeks and heart—
Shen Qingqiu stops his train of thought before the awful metaphor can finish. He shivers at the cringiness of it all, and makes a mental note to never try his hand at poetry. Clearly, he is not suited for such a thing.
-
Sometime later, Shen Qingqiu gets up with a single-minded focus that he has to clean Luo Binghe’s room.
He doesn’t really understand where the urge itself comes from.
Shen Qingqiu does understand though, that this is extremely out of character for him. He doesn’t clean.
His whole life, he’s barely had to raise a hand for chores. If it wasn’t his mother, it was the house cleaner sent by his mother. And when it wasn’t the house cleaner, it was Luo Binghe. And now that it’s not Luo Binghe, well, it doesn’t matter too much anyway.
Shen Qingqiu is busy enough that he barely has a need to keep track.
The point of the matter was, Shen Qingqiu has been more than spoiled his entire life. If not as Shen Yuan, then as an immortal peak lord of a reputable cultivation sect. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t like taking care of others too.
As Shen Yuan, he had had his little sister, always sending over gifts and indulging her text rants about not visiting her often enough. If he had another day with her...
...
Nope.
Not thinking about that right now.
And besides, now he has all his disciples to take care of. And he has taken care of them, if he does say so himself!
No more physical fights, no more bullying, no more praying for the fates of cannon fodder to not have their heads torn off by one angry heavenly demon.
The most he had to worry about was jealousy over who got more stickers and the occasional spat between his own disciples and those unruly Bai Zhan ones.
Shen Qingqiu finds that as of late, the incidents of these have been even less so. He doesn’t feel a need to give out stickers at the moment, letting the disciples go through their mourning processes, and it’s almost like the Bai Zhan disciples are making an active effort to stay away from the peak.
Which brings him back to the whole cleaning thing.
Only a disciple comes in on some sort of rotation once every two days so the floors can be swept and the furniture can be dusted.
He knows without even Shen Qingqiu telling him that Luo Binghe’s room is off-limits.
Wherein lies the problem.
If no one else was going to clean the room, and Luo Binghe wasn’t around to do it himself, the only option left was Shen Qingqiu. He wonders whether or not Luo Binghe would be angrier if Shen Qingqiu allowed dust to settle over his belongings, or if he actually tried to get rid of it.
He figures he’ll just brush off the furniture, and if Luo Binghe truly minded it, by the time he even made it back to the bamboo house the dust will have settled all over again.
No harm, no foul!
Shen Qingqiu shoos away the designated disciple at the door bringing him his breakfast— Ming Fan today, he notes. He doesn’t know how many times he can reject them before they get the hint that Shen Qingqiu isn’t very hungry at all these days. But like clockwork, there is always knocking on his door, a disciple ready with a plate of food.
As if Shen Qingqiu isn’t a grown man!
An immortal man at that!
He doesn’t even need to eat, so what were these children doing trying to feed him all the time??
Whatever, he thinks, heading towards the side room and opening the door.
It can’t have been more than two weeks since Luo Binghe has officially started his blackening, but already the air in the room is stale like he’s been gone for years.
Shen Qingqiu isn’t proficient enough to determine what is an immense amount of dust but, there is a fine layer covering the top of the desk and storage drawers.
He realizes belatedly that he hadn’t brought any cleaning supplies. Or bought anything, really.
Okay.
Okay, so no dusting.
He can at the very least pick up after some clothes.
Shen Qingqiu eyes the room again.
There’s not much. There’s only a sleeping robe haphazardly tossed onto the bed, and a spare outer robe draped over the top of a chair.
Even a cleaning virgin like Shen Qingqiu can handle that.
He stares at the clothes again for a moment. It really is something Shen Qingqiu can handle but...
Eh... He’ll get to it later. He could fold t-shirts just fine, the occasional jeans, but he doesn’t want to accidentally crease or tear the robes in an effort to put them away neatly.
He takes note of the papers stacked neatly on the table. Shen Qingqiu is fairly confident he can just organize them. Even though... they already looked pretty organized...
Whatever! Shen Qingqiu will just sort them again! Cleaning is cleaning!
He picks up the first paper and pauses. It’s one of Luo Binghe’s reports over a minor incident he and a few other disciples had gone to take care of. Shen Qingqiu’s markings are all over the page, mainly correcting Luo Binghe on his spelling and strokes. After so much time, the child was still so shaky on his writing. Shen Qingqiu supposes it makes sense, considering he barely knew any until he was fourteen, and then expected to know it all at once under the teachings of the actual scum villain.
It’s endearing to look at now.
Luo Binghe’s handwriting is best described as earnest. The strokes for each character are shaky, like the writer was doing his best to hold the brush steady while they wrote, and blotches where the brush wasn’t held at even pressure. Once the handwriting and character errors were looked past, though, the meaning of the words themselves are clear and straightforward, carefully picked out to report in the most concise way possible.
If cultivation sects gave out report cards, Luo Binghe’s would definitely say ‘A for effort!’
Well, Shen Qingqiu supposes that’s what the stickers were for in the first place.
The other sheets in Shen Qingqiu’s hand reveal similar reports.
Somehow it’s gotten dark without Shen Qingqiu realizing it.
He puts the papers back into a stack and puts them on the table.
It’s probably too late to reasonably do any more cleaning, Shen Qingqiu thinks to himself, but takes a quick look to see if other parts of the room are visibly out of place. Clothes neatly folded in this drawer, hair ribbons organized on top of a dresser, inconspicuous pouch lying right next to it, and—
Hm.
Shen Qingqiu eyes the pouch curiously. He’s certain he would have noticed if Luo Binghe was carrying something like this around. Shen Qingqiu had been there while Luo Binghe was unpacking his scarce belongings. All the child had brought with him were two pairs of robes, caked with dirt that screamed of a poor wash, and a single spare hair ribbon. It was with Shen Qingqiu that they had managed to grow the collection of Luo Binghe’s belongings, no matter how much he insisted that he was fine with what he already had.
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t have an eidetic memory, but he can at least be sure that he didn’t buy this for Luo Binghe. There’s no spiritual energy coming off of the pouch itself, and looks too crude to be a qiankun pouch. The cloth the pouch is made looks to be cheap and worn out, albeit clean. Tying the top together was a little ribbon, turned into a shade of gray with age.
With careful fingers, Shen Qingqiu leans over and picks the entire pouch up. It comes up surprisingly easily, as if nothing is even inside.
He gives the bag a little shake.
Scratch that.
He hears something inside. It’s light, if anything, but there is something inside that Luo Binghe took the time to hide away in a little pouch.
Shen Qingqiu raises an eyebrow.
The pouch is too small for hairpieces, too light to be anything like marbles, and last Shen Qingqiu checked, the fake jade pendant is still somewhere safe in the System’s inventory.
What else would Luo Binghe even have?
Shen Qingqiu isn’t a creep. He won’t open the pouch.
But then again, no one would even know if Shen Qingqiu just took a little peek. That’s all. He’ll open it, look at what’s inside, close it, and no one will be the wiser. He came here to clean, so it would be wrong of him to go without cleaning everything.
He rolls his eyes at his own logic. He places the pouch back on the dresser and turns to leave the room.
.
..
...
Who the fuck is he kidding?
He turns around completely and heads back for the pouch, unceremoniously opening it and pouring out the contents inside.
Shen Qingqiu blinks. And then blinks again.
His stickers flutter out of the pouch, landing messily on the floor. Just from watching them land, Shen Qingqiu can tell that the adhesive on most of them is all but gone. The older ones are blackened around the edges and are faded in color.
The next thing Shen Qingqiu notices is just how many of them spill out of the pouch. Shen Qingqiu has been giving out stickers for years now. Has Luo Binghe really not gotten rid of a single one?
A small voice in the back of his head tells him he should throw the whole pouch away with everything in it. It’s garbage. If Luo Binghe were here, Shen Qingqiu would tell him the same thing.
Luo Binghe is not here, however, and will never be coming back. So the choice is all Shen Qingqiu’s own.
They really are garbage. It’s better off being thrown out, all things considered.
One by one, he picks the stickers up from the floor and places them back into the little pouch. He ties the end ribbon together, puts the pouch back on top of the dresser, and leaves the side room. He ignores the way some of the more recent stickers have left his fingers slightly tacky and swallows past the strange lump in his throat.
The weather is getting colder. He must be getting sick.
-
For three years, the stickers that have become common on Qing Jing Peak have all but disappeared from existence.
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know if the untouched sticker sheets have simply accumulated in the drawer now that they weren’t regularly being used, or if they are replaced with a new one every night, or if nothing changes at all.
He doesn’t open the drawer to check.
-
Three years later, Luo Binghe is back, a bright red demon mark over the space where Shen Qingqiu had placed a star all those years before.
-
The plot happens as it does, and all thoughts of sticker sheets and otherwise are duly put away in an effort to deal with Jinlan City, then the water prison, then saving Luo Binghe, then Shen Qingqiu, uh, went away for some five years, then Tianliang Jun, then saving Luo Binghe again.
If Shen Qingqiu could, he’d have written up the System to the manager by now. Just who was supposed to be the damsel in distress here again? Why couldn’t the wives be affected by these plot devices?! Shen Qingqiu wants a refund!
So clearly, it’s only after the dust has settled, and Shen Qingqiu has decided to return with Luo Binghe to Qing Jing for a short period of time that he remembers the existence of them altogether.
-
They’re packing for their next travels. Or, more accurately, Luo Binghe is packing for them both, bouncing from Shen Qingqiu’s quarters to his own now-unused side room, holding this and that as he packs food and clothes.
Shen Qingqiu isn’t quite sure where they’re headed, whether it be to the demon realm or if Luo Binghe simply wants to take him sightseeing, but he doesn’t particularly mind. Being doted on like this... it was rather convenient!
All Shen Qingqiu has to do is lie back, relax, and catch up on a rather fascinating book on Southern fauna that can turn into full-grown beasts if grown in the proper conditions. Logically, Shen Qingqiu knows that this is only another sign of Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’s increasing lack of writing inspiration as he went from novel writer to porn peddler, but now that Shen Qingqiu is living in a world where such things exist, it’s actually pretty interesting!
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe says, popping his head into the room. “Allow this one to prepare some lunch before we leave. Is there anything in particular Shizun would like to eat?”
Shen Qingqiu waves his hand. “Whatever Binghe would like is fine.”
Luo Binghe smiles, then disappears again in the way he came.
Shen Qingqiu gets up and stretches his arms for a moment, sorely glad he no longer has to worry about things like excruciating lower back and neck pain. He might as well get up now and sit at the low table while he waits for Luo Binghe to arrive with the food.
Taking a seat, he leans over to the side and pulls open a random drawer to stuff his book into in the meantime. Without thinking, he pulls open the one closest to him. Before he even opens it all the way, Shen Qingqiu realizes just what drawer he had pulled at.
Surprisingly, there’s no dust accumulating on the sticker sheet, even though countless years have gone by. Shen Qingqiu gingerly puts the book down inside and takes out the sticker sheet. Interestingly, there’s no longer any twisting of his guts when he looks at them.
“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu calls, “Come in here for a moment.”
Luo Binghe comes obediently. “Shizun, is there something you needed?”
Shen Qingqiu hums. Without any other fanfare, he peels off a golden sticker and puts it right on Luo Binghe’s left cheek. He pats it once to make sure the corners stick.
“Shizun, is this...?”
Shen Qingqiu huffs out a laugh. “Has it been so long that my disciple has forgotten the incentive method he helped create?”
When Luo Binghe bursts out into tears, even Shen Qingqiu can tell they are happy.
Shen Qingqiu reaches up— up!— to cup Luo Binghe’s cheek, so that the tears catch on Shen Qingqiu’s fingers instead of the floor.
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe sobs.
Outwardly, Shen Qingqiu gives him a look of disapproval. “Silly,” he admonishes. “Didn’t I teach you already that water will make them fall off?” He sighs when the words only make Luo Binghe weep harder.
Inwardly, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t mind this in the slightest.
He’ll have plenty of time to put on more.