#binghe thinks they are courting from distance

[phoenixtakaramono]

The Untold Tale - ch2 Preview

SUMMARY: Let it not be said that Shen Yuan didn’t know how to be an accomplished—arguably better—writer than Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky! A middle-aged author in his hubris, he’d unknowingly triggered his fate and had his consciousness whisked away into an unfathomable mystical world that he would later learn to be based on Proud Immortal Demon Way and his very own work-in-progress. When given the opportunity to customize his character’s stats and to design his one remaining Customizable Skill Slot, as a veteran reader of transmigration stories and its tropes, Shen Yuan demanded, “Grant me the protagonist’s halo of course!”

The SYSTEM was silent all but for a minute.【Understood. Unique Skill <<PROTAGONIST’S HALO>> activated. Esteemed Host, you share the Unique Skill <<PROTAGONIST’S HALO>> with one other.】

“Who?”

【This world’s Luo Binghe. From the original novel series.】

“...Hold on, I need some time to process this.”

(Little did Shen Yuan know that this world’s Luo Binghe is the same sadistic Heavenly Demon “Bing gē” who’d stumbled upon the alternate universe version of his “Shizun” enjoying marital bliss with “Bing mèi” in one of the released Extra short stories. It was also too bad that Shen Yuan, in his mortal form, resembled Shen Qingqiu by a good thirty-to-forty percent.) 

(It’s a sort-of redemption fic. I think Bing gē deserves his own Shen Yuan. Some soulmates are just meant to be....)

Luo Binghe didn’t reply immediately when the low voice graced his ears. He was content to drink his fill of the fortuneteller before him, his breath stolen. 

It was as if the Heavens had sculpted this extraordinary fairy from the white nephrite mines of the Tian Shan Mountains and had breathed life into their creation. Such a man gave the impression of a heron found resting in the wetlands, with an immaculately majestic white plumage and tall stature and long legs. The crown had lent him a dignified air, with its moonstone threads giving off a resplendent iridescent sheen in the moonlight. Aside from the face, any sign of skin was covered up beneath the many fabrics of dark blue finery and silverspun threads. The gossamer tips of the white embroidered wings on the back of his outer robe fanned out along the bend of those wide sleeves as though the wings of the egert were extended around the wearer himself, the outstretched tips of the chiffon weaving gracefully in the air from any subtle breeze or movement. 

Luo Binghe stared brazenly at the man’s high collar which was fastened securely around the throat, not allowing a sliver of skin to be exposed. In contrast, the mink fur of the man’s outer robe looked luxurious and soft to the touch, begging for him to sink his fingers into it. 

He was the very representation of how Luo Binghe had imagined a celestial being to appear sequestered away in the coveted Heavenly Realm, mature and self-restrained and untouched by matters of the secular world. Luo Binghe shifted, briefly scanning the surroundings. Like seeing through a fog, colors of this mystic world were not as vibrant as that in the Mortal Realm. Frozen clouds hung in the outskirts of the infinite pond, the picture of twilight outside, with heaven and earth enveloped in silver and white.

Because Luo Binghe was once brought up with the common people who believed in everything divine—or supposed to be divine, no matter whether it was associated with Buddhism, the Dao, or the cult of the dead—he was familiar with the folklores and fictions that populated the imaginations of his countrymen. The educated class never made it an occasion to question the validity of the myriad of deities worshipped by the illiterate masses. Except for deities, everything under the sky was the King's land; everyone on these lands were the King's subjects. For reasons of courting blessings and averting calamities, mortals in their middle empire followed the teaching of Confucius in their religious beliefs, including the lesson to treat all divinities with reverence and to regard them at a cold, respectable distance. 

And among those popular tales, Luo Binghe was familiar with the mythology of the Eight Great Fairies. Like cultivators, they represented the pinnacle of human beings who had acquired immortality and magic through the constant practice of the esoteric discipline of Dao, achieving a status of divinity and ascending from the secular world. If this celestial was a fortuneteller, then his situation reminded Luo Binghe of the story of Ho Hsien-ku. Endowed with a supernatural power, the magician could make divinations and prophecies without the slightest mistakes.

“My story?” Luo Binghe rasped, intentionally obtuse. His expression relaxing, he permitted his hand to be lowered but he kept the tight grip on the man’s wrist. 

When the immortal had spoken, contrary to his aloof and handsome appearance which resembled white frost, his voice was as refreshing as a spring brook. Every word he’d uttered was infused with a bit of warmth, reminding Luo Binghe of the afterglow that followed the setting sun—even with the slightest warning lodged in that tactful entreaty. He’d called him xiōng dì, so Luo Binghe could surmise the celestial considered himself as Luo Binghe’s senior.

It was obvious that while he was wary of a Heavenly Demon’s sudden appearance at his residence, the ethereal being didn’t seem to bear him any misgivings. He seemed more curious about how Luo Binghe ended up here.

“...This lord doesn’t recall crossing a silver bridge,” Luo Binghe continued slowly. In their tales, the Heavenly Realm was ruled by the Jade Emperor who presided over a court of deities worshipped throughout China. Only human beings who had lived exemplary lives were allowed entry after death by crossing the “the silver bridge” into this domain and being reborn as gods.

His body and mind felt strangely refreshed, the internal fire no longer consuming him. There was a faint recollection of the feeling of fire abetting as the yin energy flowed through him, and even when he’d begun to regain consciousness, he remembered registering the feeling of a pair of hands on his back guiding him to lie back down. Realizing the significance of his position on the immortal’s lap after falling into the river, his eyes were overfilling with indescribable emotions after piecing together what must have happened. It was a small revelation that made his head dizzy.

The serene gaze settled upon his face, and beneath the thick eyelashes that were devoid of color, the immortal was assessing Luo Binghe with an intensity that he himself didn’t mind returning. 

In the deep recesses of his mind, Luo Binghe compared the differences of his features against two similar faces. He committed to memory the beguiling shade of jade found in those pale eyes, with the emotion that swum in them as calm as the surface of a lake. They were quite different from the cruel bottomless storms of his Shizun and the gentle overcast skies of the other “Shen Qingqiu.” 

To Luo Binghe, the existence of this person was akin to finding a painting that had been carefully preserved and well-hidden, like a fairy who has hidden his existence from the realms for centuries. His unusual appearance could even be likened to the seven wonders of the world, a peerless beauty that could even overshadow the female white snake spirit Bai Suzhen from fable. Celestials were naturally an enigmatic sight that stole a second glance and set the heart at ease. Luo Binghe felt as if he’d discovered an elusive treasure of indescribable rarity which had never before been gazed upon by the likes of mere mortals or demons. 

And he was undoubtedly his shizun, even with the differences. 

This was the one—the special existence that belonged to him. A chance encounter between a celestial and between a human who had the blood of ancient demons fallen from heaven running through his veins could only be testament to the natural balance of order.

The sudden damp touch against the side of his face made his eyelids jolt slightly, reacting to the drag of fabric along his skin. 

A pensive air seeped into the celestial’s demeanor, and Luo Binghe could sense he was contemplating Luo Binghe’s facial features. Deep in thought, the pad of his thumb carelessly brushed against his jaw, making Luo Binghe’s pupils constrict.

They were a pair of scholarly, masculine hands. Although the fortuneteller wore gloves, Luo Binghe could presume that those long fingers held a bit of roughness to them, calluses formed from training with a sword or from other extraneous activities. Having trained in the art of cultivation himself, Luo Binghe could not disregard the white sword sheathed at the immortal’s waist as being worn for decorative purposes. He gave the deceptive impression of being quiet and harmless, but Luo Binghe had discerned his body to be capable of releasing stored-up strength at any time. From his position lying on the immortal’s lap, Luo Binghe could sense the contoured muscles hidden beneath the folds of fabric. 

A mental image suddenly appeared in Luo Binghe’s mind which made him want to slide those offending garments off and sink his teeth into that pale, untarnished flesh which resembled the moonlight. The emotion in his gaze became all the more lascivious as he imagined the colors that’d bloom, branded by him.

In the same measured tone, the immortal proclaimed, “You are Luo Binghe?” When the smile spread across Luo Binghe’s face, the fortuneteller soon matched it. He answered himself amicably, “Yes, you are the one whom the fates smile upon…. It is an honor to finally meet the reputable young lord who presides over the demons. I present to you my greetings.”

“And to be able to meet you is seven lifetime’s worth of blessings.” He saw those snowy lashes flicker as the brows flew up. Seeing surprise coloring those features, Luo Binghe swallowed and rasped, “Permit me to be so bold, but this xiōng dì would be honored to know what this simple fortuneteller’s name is.”

Those pale jade eyes flickered past. “...I am known as Shen Yuan.”

Luo Binghe mouthed the name, repeating the consonants and the syllables. A look of hunger flitted across his face, before his expression soon resumed its natural state, sweet and indulgent. 

He can be good to this Shen Yuan.

(Chapter 1 can be found on AO3. Link is in my profile)

#svsss #luo binghe #bingqiu #shen qingqiu #bingyuan #shen yuan #the untold tale #phoenixtakaramono #WIP #preview #ch2 #If I'm lucky I can maybe eke this out by Nov #if not then you can consider it a December gift #bc good lord the sheer number of comments from just the prologue alone #I am flabbergasted #TUT will be updated b4 G&G #my writing #scumbag system #the scum villain's self saving system

[elara-moon]

Title: Happy Together (chapter two: BingQiu Week Day Two)

Author: Elara_Moon

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Summary: BingQiu Week Day Two: Royalty AU. Shen Qingqiu is a minor noble. Luo Binghe is the long-lost heir to the throne.

AO3 Link

The halls were filled with gossip. The nobles, the maids, the guards, everyone was talking, and all about one man.

Luo Binghe.

He was, apparently, the long-lost son of TianLang-Jun, the king. TianLang-Jun’s pregnant wife, Su Xiyan, had gone missing while traveling, and she had been presumed dead. Now, Luo Binghe had appeared, eighteen years old and an accomplished swordsman, with the necklace TianLang-Jun had given Su Xiyan as a courting gift.

He was believed immediately; absolutely nobody had any doubts that he was telling the truth. Everyone talked about how handsome he was, how charming he was, how skilled he was.

Shen Qingqiu felt that his story was a little farfetched, but who was he to complain? He didn’t care who became king. Shen Qingqiu was only minor nobility; barely noble at all. It was none of his business. Besides, he hadn’t even met the man -- nor did he care to.

He cared far more about his books.

He was sitting in one of the gardens, reading his book. Though it wasn’t private, this garden wasn’t especially popular, so it was usually fairly empty. It meant that the sound of an approaching crowd was even more obvious than it might usually be.

Frowning faintly at the interruption, Shen Qingqiu looked up -- and directly into the dark eyes of Luo Binghe. Though Shen Qingqiu hadn’t met him, and didn’t know what he looked like, Luo Binghe was immediately recognizable by the royal purple edging on his black clothes. Even if not for that, though, Shen Qingqiu thought he would have recognized him anyway. Some of the descriptions he’d heard of Luo Binghe went through his mind -- breathtaking, the most handsome man in the kingdom, unfairly pretty, the very personification of attraction.

Yeah. Those things definitely fit this man. Especially when his expression, previously calm and serious, lit up with a smile as he met Shen Qingqiu’s eyes.

Shen Qingqiu wasn’t bad looking, but this man was gorgeous.

Luo Binghe wasn’t alone, of course. The crowd Shen Qingqiu had heard was Luo Binghe’s entourage. Guards, advisors, and admirers crowded around Luo Binghe, more than a dozen people in all.

Better him than me, Shen Qingqiu thought. The thought of being subjected to it himself horrified him.

Aware of propriety, Shen Qingqiu dragged his eyes off of Luo Binghe’s features (which were unfairly pretty indeed) and back to his book. After a moment, however, it became unavoidably obvious that Luo Binghe was walking towards Shen Qingqiu. There was no other reason for him to be aiming for Shen Qingqiu’s little corner of the considerable garden.

Oh no. That could be bad. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t think of anything he’d done wrong, or anything he’d done that could have offended Luo Binghe, but there were no good reasons for the crown prince of the kingdom to be approaching Shen Qingqiu, either.

Shen Qingqiu stood as Luo Binghe approached, and Luo Binghe stopped directly in front of him. He was still smiling, bright and somehow delighted. The entourage stopped a polite distance away, though they were definitely still eavesdropping.

“Shen Qingqiu?” Luo Binghe said.

Heart pounding, Shen Qingqiu managed a nod and a bow. “Yes, Your Highness,” he said.

And then Luo Binghe dropped to one knee in front of him. Shen Qingqiu just about had a heart attack. What was that! Prince, what were you doing!?

Luo Binghe offered a ring to him. It was a nice ring, with a diamond inlay. Shen Qingqiu stifled a scream.

“Shen Qingqiu. Will you marry me?” Luo Binghe asked, still smiling. He seemed happy. He seemed as though this was normal, like he was asking his boyfriend, a person he’d actually ever even met before.

The entourage, previously silent, burst into hushed chatter.

Shen Qingqiu only did not react by pure strength of will and many years of practice at court. Inwardly, he was freaking out. What was he supposed to do now! He couldn’t just say no to the crown prince of the kingdom! But how could he say yes!? They’d never even met!

Why was Luo Binghe proposing to him!?

The silence dragged on a little too long. Luo Binghe’s smile started to falter.

They needed to talk about this. Obviously. Shen Qingqiu needed to get Luo Binghe to explain. But not in front of The Entourage.

Shen Qingqiu reached out, grabbing Luo Binghe’s arm (which was audacious and presumptuous, but oh well!), and pulled him to his feet.

“Excuse us,” he said briefly to the entourage before dragging Luo Binghe away.

Once they were in a different corner of the garden, which seemed remote and private enough, he let Luo Binghe go. Shen Qingqiu took several quick steps away before turning back to Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe was frowning, now, ring still held in one hand. Was it Shen Qingqiu’s imagination, or did he look hurt? “What’s wrong?” he said.

What was wrong. What wasn’t wrong!

“Why are you proposing to me?” Shen Qingqiu said. “We’ve never even met!”

That was definitely hurt on Luo Binghe’s face. “We -- haven’t we? Don’t you remember me?”

Shen Qingqiu allowed himself a short, controlled flail. “I really don’t. When would we have met?” he asked.

“It’s been a few years,” Luo Binghe said slowly. He let out a humorless laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course I wouldn’t have left as big of an impression on you as you did on me.”

“I’m sorry,” Shen Qingqiu said, starting to feel like he was the bad guy here. He was also intimately aware of their different stations.

Luo Binghe shook his head. “Don’t you remember me at all, A-Yuan?” he said.

A frisson went down Shen Qingqiu’s spine and he couldn’t help but jump, startled. It had been years since anybody called him by that name. Nobody had called him that since his parents died, and he was sent to live with his cousins… Sent here. From the city he’d grown up in.

He’d been born in Cang Qiong city, and wasn’t that the same city Luo Binghe claimed to be from?

But Luo Binghe was younger than him, he was eighteen to Shen Qingqiu’s twenty-two -- he wouldn’t have been very old when Shen Qingqiu moved. Ten, probably?

Oh.

It hit him like a horse-drawn carriage.

When Shen Qingqiu was a child, he’d become friends with an orphan, a few years younger than him. Little Binghe. Binghe had been so small, though, he’d always thought there were more than four years between them. Malnutrition, probably. Shen Qingqiu had snuck him food, when he could. Had taught him to read. Had shared what little swordsmanship he learned with him.

Binghe hadn’t had much to offer in return. He’d given Shen Qingqiu little gifts -- pretty rocks he found in the river, flowers he thought smelled nice. A couple of times, he’d made earnest promises about giving Shen Qingqiu real gifts. Gems instead of rocks, roses instead of wildflowers. He’d talked about marrying Shen Qingqiu a couple of times. Shen Qingqiu had always thought of it like a young child wanting to marry their best friend. Nothing serious.

Then Shen Qingqiu’s parents had died, and he’d been sent off to his nearest relatives. He’d never gotten the chance to say goodbye to Binghe.

He hadn’t recognized the name. He hadn’t thought of Binghe in a long time, and besides, the Binghe he’d met before was an orphan, certainly he never would have associated him with this man, the crown prince of the kingdom.

Shen Qingqiu staggered backwards a step, feeling like he’d been slapped. “Binghe?” he said.

It was foolish. Obviously, Luo Binghe’s name was Binghe. But Luo Binghe’s expression brightened.

“You remember?” he said, delighted.

“I… I remember,” Shen Qingqiu said. “I’m sorry. I never got to say goodbye.”

Luo Binghe shook his head. He was smiling again. “It’s okay. I’m just glad I found you again.”

He stepped closer to Shen Qingqiu and lifted a hand to cradle his cheek. Luo Binghe was standing very close, Shen Qingqiu noted. And Luo Binghe was taller than him now.

The shock broke. Shen Qingqiu remembered that this ridiculous man had found him for the first time in eight years and immediately proposed. He pushed Luo Binghe’s hand away from his face and scowled at him.

“What were you thinking, proposing out of the blue!” he scolded, whacking him gently on the forehead with the book he was holding in one hand. “It’s been eight years! Give a man some warning!”

“I told you I wanted to marry you, before,” Luo Binghe protested with a pout. “And now I can. I can give you real gems! I’ll give you all the presents you want. I’ll give you a proper wedding.”

Shen Qingqiu hesitated. He actually considered it for the first time, the prospect of marrying Luo Binghe. The crown prince of the kingdom, this unfairly handsome man, the cheerful little kid he’d willingly spent most of his time with from the ages of ten to fourteen.

It wasn’t… entirely unappealing. And his family had been trying to get him to marry, anyway.

However.

“How about we try dating first?” he said with a sigh.

Luo Binghe beamed like Shen Qingqiu had already agreed.

#BingQiuWeek2019 #day two #scum villain #the scum villain's self-saving system #fanfiction #i wrote a thing #long post