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1.
There’s a boy within the waters.
From afar, nothing seems amiss. The waters are littered, yes, muddy and turbid with the moon contrasting brightly on the lake’s odd surface, yet, there is a boy within the waters.
There shouldn’t be a boy within the waters.
But as he continues to pass by the bodies afloat, bodies of which you do not recognize, the boy comes to an abrupt stop. Standing still as though he’s come to an understanding.
Can’t you recognize the scenery yet?
Limbs jerk, yet nothing happens. A voice calls out, begging. Yet, bloodied hands come to muffle and distort the volume as the voice cries out the second time.
You think they’re begging for something, and you almost come close enough to pull under. But why are they begging?
As the boy stares into the water unwavering, waiting for something almost, a phantom-like touch comes to cover the boy’s eyes for him. The boy resists at first before he relaxes into the touch, there is whispering, then tickling laughter. But how could you hear it?
You do not hear it, you cannot see it.
You do not recognize the bodies in the water.
___
Shen Qingqiu wasn’t always as forgiving as he was now to Luo Binghe. A fan to cover his mouth for when chuckles came with deep creases lining his smile, or the gentle humming and tapping rhythms into any surface that meant a cheerful serenity, Shen Qingqiu was different before all this. Two years before his feverish qi deviation, there were ink splatters on papers, handprints on rusty axes, and whip marks on a boy’s back.
Luo Binghe’s arrival at the peak began with tea poured onto his head, wherein heartfelt sincerity met with sheer disgust. From then on, he was usually outside the classroom rather than in, lesser than equal to his peers, beastly than humane to his old Shizun.
Shen Qingqiu was always an other-worldly figure, always out of touch, unreachable to people below him, distant to even his oldest disciples. Because of this, the majority painted him in a negative light: lecherous for visiting brothels on nights, cruel for whipping his disciples freely for even the smallest mistakes, perverted for treating his female disciples differently, spoiled for his attitude and intricately detailed yet expensive clothing, disrespectful for openly humiliating the Bai Zhan war lord whenever he could.
It was hard for others to understand Shen Qingqiu but quite easy for them to make assumptions about him. Luo Binghe was never the type to speculate, as his Shijie always insisted that Shen Qingqiu was a kind and patient teacher, but a part of Binghe burns, wondering if Shen Qingqiu had feigned ignorance, neglecting to address the bullying at his peak since it’s Binghe, especially when it’s him.
( So endure it, something whispers. Don’t lash out yet; endure it while you can because you are bitter. Feel that anger burning within? Hold it tightly, let it linger, keep that grudge close to your heart and let it ache. You are powerless now, but you won’t be for any longer. Allow them to torment you, but mark every face, every name, every bystander who watched and looked away. And when the time is right, when you’re finally done being weak, pay everything back a hundredfold. )
Life on the peak became a routine of sorts; there are pots to refill, firewood to collect, and chores to complete, all the time, there is always more to do than less. There are many Binghe must give for others to take, and there is nothing for him to keep, as he must constantly hand pieces of himself until he is unable to. Not to say that whatever he does is enough, there will always be more expected from him, more of him to take from.
Then one day, something changes. After the Qi deviation, a drop of kindness falls, rolling right onto his knees, in the form of a medicinal bottle. Suddenly, there is more to see beyond what Shizun outwardly projects.
From the Skinner mission towards the demon’s invasion, Shen Qingqiu’s attitude differs, and Luo Binghe’s treatment improves drastically alongside the newest rules. Shizun changes, becoming forgiving and lenient with others. He is hard to understand from afar, yes. But now, up close, he becomes in arms. By his side, Luo Binghe can see how his Shizun is kinder and softer, how his smiles are hidden behind his fan, seen within his gaze.
At first, Luo Binghe thinks it must have been a fluke. Yet Shizun starts to consistently show his care for him, even when he claims otherwise. Through actions and words, there is care within each step he takes. Shizun is always there protecting him from demons of the like, accompanying him within his dreams to stop Luo Binghe from damaging his mind, sacrificing his cultivation for a disciple who couldn’t make a dent in his cultivation years ago. Shizun is always there to keep him safe time and time again.
The other peak lords called his case a possession at first and refused to believe that memory loss could lead to such a drastic shift in his personality. From a frigid personality to a warmer aura, they tested Shen Qingqiu’s constitution with gradually bizarre methods to confirm whether he was possessed; disciples of the like also speculated on the sudden change of attitude, if not possession, then amnesia. The most popular opinion regarding the situation though is that since Shizun forgot his heart demons, his personality changed significantly. Binghe thinks that the Shizun now is kind. That Shizun is capable of being good, selfless.
( But the thing was, “Shizun” wasn’t himself anymore. He was a different soul entirely, not too unlike the old one, but vastly different in every way that mattered, the shift that made all the difference for Binghe.
Shen Yuan was selfless to the bone. He was altruistic, and he was kind at a cost to himself. Whilst Shen Jiu cannot bring himself to be selfless for the sake of others, not anymore. He is selfish, always selfish. He must be selfish as he is a voracious monster after all that would sink his teeth right into any piece of flesh, anything to cling to, because what else does he have if not greed? What is he without the scraps he hoards, tight against his chest, always sneering, always angry at the world?
If Shen Yuan had to sum up PDIW’s infamous scum villain, it would be envious. Right from the beginning till the end, Shen Jiu had envied his disciple. Because of this, Binghe would regularly take beatings for making common mistakes that he could’ve easily corrected if he had the time to attend classes with the right manual. From chores to whippings and ending his nights locked inside the woodshed, Binghe was still himself. He was a disgusting beast, so hopeful for some reason, yet Shen Jiu envied Binghe for being more than he could be, more than he could have. Street rats, yet Binghe had a mother, a stronger core, a friend, and a home. Why couldn’t he have that?
Why was Shen Jiu transferred from one monster to the next? Forced to endure, Shen Jiu was always waiting for something, before for help, but now for an explanation. Brothers reunited, yet farther than they’ve ever been. Because he never gets what he wants, does he? Shen Jiu must always work for it, scratch, scream, kick, anything to get what he wants. Because nothing is free, nothing will ever be free, not for the likes of him.
When he dreams, a peak lord of high standing finds himself in the same woodshed. With a slave as his companion, he asks, why didn’t you leave?
He never gets a response in return, and the day plays out the same as always.
He is a slave first before a human, forced to work rather than experience his childhood. Labeled by something he will never get rid of, bound to a contract of ownership. He has chores and responsibilities he's expected to complete by the end of the day. But something about today was off. It starts with little things at first, not that he could remember everything vividly enough to note with which hand he used that time to open doors, nor could he confidently mark each scratch etched onto the walls, no. The mind forgets, but the heart can remember how it feels.
This day is different.
A touch soothes his cheek as he lulls slowly into a nap on soft sheets, oblivious to the ache that nestles deep within his chest, marked across his back. “You must be tired,” The voice croons out, and he is. There are bruising marks all across his body that contrast harshly against his sickly skin, but never on his face, never deep enough to scar.
Endure it because you are resilient. You have to endure until you can’t, and until you can’t, fix it yourself.
But how can a child fix shattered glass with nothing but his fists? What else can he do other than pick up the pieces with bare hands? What else is there to do other than cupping them delicately into his palms before crumpling them all together in hopes that things will change, even when it doesn’t, even when the pain lingers?
In one breath, he’s in a room stuck with Qiu Jianluo again; in another, a body falls on top of him limply, lifeless.
Somebody from afar screams.
And the world bursts into a blazing light. )
___
There’s a side room by the bamboo house where previous head disciples stay.
With closer proximity, it becomes easy to pick up habits from people you live with daily, the routines they retain. As reserved and inscrutable as Shizun is, behind closed doors, Shizun is different. Shizun likes to scrape the edges of his bowl when he eats congee, lounge by the window just to bask in the morning breeze and wear robes appropriate to the bare minimum for decency when he is comfortable at home.
Shizun has quirks; quirks Binghe all notes with endearment. Shen Qingqiu becomes likable, close enough to touch, and finally reachable. He is easy to talk with, easy to learn from, and easy to know about.
You’re not supposed to have that, to know him.
The timeline is all wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. You're going the wrong way, following the wrong sequence. You’re earlier, yes, ahead than you’re supposed to be, but it's not right. There’s blood seeping into your clothes, blood in your hands, blood in the waters. Or is that your blood in the water? Well, how did you get here? You’re not supposed to be here in these waters; you must have taken the wrong turn somewhere because why did you come? Why do you keep looking?
Something is calling out to you— no? But they are. You’re alone, you are. But you can hear it from a distance, can’t you? It’s closer this time, or maybe you’re the one who got closer. Closer to the end that is. But aren’t we just halfway in? Same tone, same inflictions, same pitch, how? Why can you hear Shizun? Your ears are covered, aren’t they? No, they must’ve slipped out at some point right? Why can you hear it again? See him again?
That’s Shizun in the waters, but at the same time, it’s not?
Yes. Yes. Close your eyes, a voice pleads, I’m right here by your side. This disciple of mine is so silly, is he not? So foolish, so sweet. Since when does the disciple protect the master when it must be the other way around? Who’ll take care of you when you’re taking care of me? Who’ll remind you to keep your eyes and ears closed if not me?
Your ear tickles, you swear they do, yet all Shizun does is block the noise from afar even further.
You do not recognize the bodies in the water.
2.
Ning Yingying was Luo Binghe’s first and possibly only friend in the peak. From the beginning, right when Ning Yingying walked up to him and dragged him along to the peak, the two got along well and were completely stuck together by the hip.
Despite being younger by a year or two, Ning Yingying was the clingy one of the two as she loved to pester and dote on him when she deemed it necessary to insert herself into a conversation. Because of this, although Ning Yingying meant well with her attempts to welcome him into her peak, she indirectly painted a red target directly on his back that screamed, “Kick me!” Oblivious to how her actions in return affected Luo Binghe’s treatment, she continued to favor him openly and defend him on the fly. Which in return, made the backlash harsher than it was previously.
Gradually though, or right after Shizun’s Qi deviation, Ning Yingying was spoiled less and treated equally as other female disciples. With the Skinner mission and the demonic invasion teaching Ning Yingying a lesson better than Shen Qingqiu’s new attempts of scolding, she learnt to be considerate of others before doing things her way. Though she still was barely considerate despite her conclusions, nonetheless, she was nothing like the naive disciple she was once.
As of now, the pair leisurely walked together as they headed towards the lecture a few minutes before it started, with Ning Yingying leading the conversation and Binghe’s affirmatives right behind each sentence. During their first few minutes, they pleased his Shijie before she got worked up, upset from the lack of a proper response.
( Yet something in the memory smells stale, sulphury. The air tastes salty, and your mouth does too. But you’re in Qing Jing Peak right now, aren’t you? Your head should be above water, yet still, you drown, Luo Binghe. )
“A’Luo!” She calls out, tapping him pointedly on his shoulder. “Are you with me right now?”
( Your throat stings. )
“Shidi!” Ning Yingying huffs, “You keep spacing out on me when I talk to you!” she says, pulling on Binghe’s ear as he whines, aggrieved by her actions. He swats her hand away before giving her a boyish grin.
( What did you say next? )
“I was listening to you Shijie,” he coaxes towards her, tone dulcet and sweet, though they both know he’s being cheeky.
( Was that how it happened? )
“Seriously!” feeling admonished, she pushes forward, “I know you’re not ok. Repeat what I said a while ago then!”
( There are gaps between your memories. )
A pause, and then a shriek sounds out near his ear as Binghe collapses into laughter right after his response. Ning Yingying hits him roughly on his arm multiple times before she starts ramping up the antics to berate him. “You’re just repeating what I said word for word!”
( Did you? )
“Shizun is teaching us more about ██████ ! So you have to pay attention this time!”
( Look at bodies, is what he hears instead. Watch them as they sink into the ocean floor. But a selfless part of you can’t. You walk closer and closer, freezing cold now that it’s agony staying awake any longer, yet you could’ve sworn you could feel the warmth within their palm when you intertwine their fingers tightly against yours.
But corpses cannot feel. They do not emit the warmth you crave, foolish boy. Doomed to fail, your death awaits you at the end of the journey.
You’ll come back though. You’ll always be back for more. )
___
The lecture begins once Shizun enters the room. Typically, Shen Qingqiu just stands idly by the sides and spectates hall masters as they lecture disciples. But as the Immortal Alliance Conference drew closer, Shizun personally started to teach a few of the lessons. Monsters, terrains, talismans: Shizun covered anything to do with it, focusing on advanced monsters despite them being of a higher level than what the Immortal Alliance Conference would offer.
( Yet somehow, for some reason, all of it became useful to you in the abyss, learnt through first-hand experience. Angry, exhausted, alone. You’re always alone, aren’t you? Luo Binghe. )
The hubbub around you dwindles as Shizun stands commandingly at front. When you look into his eyes you see something dark. Heavy, almost, yet mostly grounding. There is warmth within it, a crinkle or two near his eyes that indicates joy despite it being hidden behind the newest fan Liu Qingge picked and returned to Shen Qingqiu. The lecture begins, but you’re far away.
( Far away from the peak, that is. Somewhere entirely new. Swimming towards some illusion created by the waters, compelled to follow through. Your feet can’t touch the ground anymore, but you’ve come up for air at some point after trying to reach out, so it’s not too late yet to stop yourself from drowning if you back out while you can. Except you don’t listen to reason, do you? You’re the one actively making it worse, scratching an irritated wound for that brief sense of relief you desperately crave by trying to do it again.
You clench your fist a little tighter in an attempt to ground yourself, to feel your nails dig-in moon-shaped creases into your palms. This memory, this lecture is important, something tells you, but you can’t recall what happens next no matter how much you try.
Prodding the memory hurts, but you know it's important for you to remember. Except you can’t, there are too many gaps that need filling. But how can there be any in the first place? You know Shizun, memorized him and his features by heart at this point. You’ve created dreamscapes of brushing his hair, helping him dress, and waking him up in the morning with Meng Mo moaning at the sidelines about your wasted potential. But somehow, this memory is something you can’t remember. )
Focus, the entity whispers, bringing you back to the present. Dwelling in the past will do you no good. The water up to your waist, but only because you’re swimming afloat, and almost tempted to ask him how, but for now, you focus on what you know.
There are bodies within the water, bodies of which you do not recognize. If not their features, then their cherished items. Shizun’s favorite fan with bamboo motifs is tucked loosely on his belt, your mother’s apron is tightened around her skirt to keep it clean, even Ning Yingying’s hairpin is recognizable to you as its pieces drift afloat near her corpse.
No. She is alive right? Or have you mistaken the chill of death for warmth instead? Maybe they were alive before, but now they’re dead. Or were they always dead? Yet how could they call you if they were dead already? And wasn’t it just Shizun drowning before? But you’ve just said there's more of them in the water, haven’t you? Maybe you’re missing a lot more bodies than you originally thought you were. Those weren’t strangers, you knew all of them.
You do not recognize the bodies in the water.
You really do.
That's the problem, Luo Binghe. You’re struggling to stay afloat, limbs tired and heavy from exhaustion, yet you still stay regardless, don’t you?
And for what? People who’ve humiliated you? Lied to you with their hypocrisy? And you want to stay by them, with them, despite the pain they’ve caused you.
…
Hey. Would you walk into the waters if you knew there were bodies in it?
Maybe most of you would say no at first. But people are still able to swim in the sea, neglecting the bodies that lies beneath. People only refuse to swim when the unknown finally comes floating above, drifting towards shore, enough for our eyes to see. Eventually the bodies sink to the bottom of the sea, yes. The bottom of the sea is always covered with the unknown, but even so, the lack of sight does not change the fact there are people who died in the waters. A body can sink underwater to decompose, yes. But the corpse will rise back to the surface after all gasses are released. Would you still walk into the waters with the knowledge you have now?
Maybe you would’ve gone out of curiosity regardless, reaching for the thrill of it, but there is a difference now. There are bodies in the water, bodies of which you do not recognize. They are not strangers, they are loved ones.
They are people who you live with, maybe even live for. They’re humane, fragile, and you are too. But you care about them, don’t you? You cared enough at least to come this close. But would you still go if you knew how it ends? There was never an option to save everybody, to remain without consequences. Dead or alive, there are bodies in the water, aren’t there?
Doesn’t that mean you’re next if you follow them too?
Maybe you're selfless. A lot more selfless than me I suppose, selfless enough to try saving them but clearly not sensible enough. You love, yes, but because you love you are weak to your own emotions, vulnerable. Because you love, you try. You simply do not continue forward when you hear crying for help, you look back at them like the imbecile you are. Just like how Orpheus turns around for Eurydice because he loves her. He turns around because he loves her enough to save her, he turns around because he loves her so much he can’t save her. But you’re not brave. You don’t need to be brave. So stop it.
Stop reading stop reading STOP READING-
I’m telling you right now. Walk away while you can. You have the power to do so. You can’t hear them, you aren’t there, so you can walk away. It’s not real until you make it real. You’re somewhere safe, somewhere we can’t reach you, separated by a barrier. Turn around and look back, it doesn’t matter how you found me, I just need you to leave. There’s no need to drown when you can just swim up anytime. Waddle back to shore if you have to, I don’t care. Just leave.
You can swim right?
…
Oh..
You’re still here… Maybe, maybe maybe maybe you’re compelled too. Maybe you want to see how things turn out. Do you want to die? You’re not moving, yes, but you’re still going forward. You’re the protagonist, are you not? Or is that Luo Binghe, but he is you, isn’t he?
What would you do then? Would you save them if you knew your loved ones were drowning too? Do you still want to go when you know you’re destined to fail?
…
Huh…
Still here? You’re kind of stupid, aren’t you? Nevermind.
——
You’re at the edge of a cliff, cornered by Shizun. Tired, feverish, and lightheaded, yet it's your heart that hurts the most.
An inch close to your heart, and it stings. But this is more than just a wound to you, it’s the betrayal of it all, the reminder that you will never belong in the peak with others, be more than a beast to him.
He tells you to go back to where you belong, as if Luo Binghe didn’t belong beside Shizun, with Shizun.
It aches. Xiu Ya, that is, tickles. The blade is still as it points right in front of your heart, digging itself right unto your chest. You didn’t dodge the blade as it came, and only moved right after the blade dug right in, steadying it lightly with your fist despite the additional pain. It’s only by sheer will are you still able to stand on your feet. You’re exhausted beyond belief, but you still stand and stare. Waiting.
Despite the threat, you don’t fight back. Instead, you take a step closer, hoping to explain yourself. Hoping to come close enough to tug him by the arm, begging for something.
A cry leaves your mouth instead before words, the sword digging deeper as you inched closer. You’re trying your best to keep it together but you’re still 17, joining the Immortal Alliance Conference in honor of your Shizun. You’re old, but not old enough. Mature, but not mature enough. Desperate to stay, you’ve started to come up with scenarios defending yourself but Shizun does not hear. You yourself don’t even hear what you're saying, you’re hysteric.
Somehow, the blade retreats as you both linger in silence. When Shizun sheathes his blade you feel a brief sense of relief, but what comes next is a quick shove, and then you fall. Fall right into the abyss.
You stare at him, or rather where he should’ve been standing. You face straight above as the cliff gets farther and farther from your view, closing. You do not brace yourself for impact when you know this will hurt, nor do you try. Your mind moves too slowly to process what’s going on. Because you were right there, and now you’re falling to your demise. Punished for the blood that flows through your veins, associated despite being raised differently.
Then. Your bone fractures, breaking under the pressure of gravity. There are a few fractures that visibly show as they poke through your skin, one noticeably digging deep on your left thigh. You want to scream but your throat chokes up, not a word escapes you but your body tingles, wide awake as you face the most mind numbing pain you’ve ever felt in your entire life. Your mouth gurgles as you attempt to spit your blood out, teeth painted with red. You can’t tell which part of you is severely affected the most when everything around you hurts. Living burns as you start to feel your bones actively twist and break itself in order to mend all fractures. It drives you to insanity. The drop was unforgiving, your body even more so as it forcibly repairs your state. It splits and splinters, tearing muscles and replicating blood as you somehow find yourself able to sit up just to heave more blood out.
Your ears ring, but all you’re able to hear is your own breathing. Your chest aches, shaking as you try to breathe with short runny gasps that stop you from calming down completely. The air around you makes it harder to breathe with how dense the atmosphere is, breathing stings as you’re still half human, aren’t you? You try clenching your fists just to focus on something, but find yourself detached from your body as you see yourself forcing staggering breaths, trying to process the drop.
Then. You hear something. Something hostile.
( And then. Then what?
Well. Now you’re here, and you’ve traveled for so long, yes, but not long enough.You’ve suffered for a while, yet you’re three years earlier than expected, closer than you should’ve been, Luo Binghe. So maybe that’s why it’s wrong. You’ve taken a detour somewhere because you’re going the wrong way.
If you know it’s wrong, then why did you come? Why are you still following along?
This is the closest you’ve ever been yet, so so so close, that something tugs you downwards. What else can you do but follow? You’re compelled again, not by the abyss, but by Shizun. The one that's in the waters, the one that’s asking. Begging you to listen. Do you see it now?
Can you recognize him?
What left is there to do other than to drown? )