Work Text:
Like many elements of Proud Immortal Demon Way, the Festival of Ancestors’ Return was mentioned in one chapter and then never brought up again. The throwaway plotline had gone like this: Luo Binghe’s latest conquest was a filial maiden who, despite her affection for him, refused to marry the protagonist without her parents’ permission. While this normally wouldn’t be an issue for Luo Binghe, who could charm the socks off of anyone he turned his attention towards, the maiden’s parents were tragically dead. This arc had taken place well before the Ghost Realm arc, at which point Luo Binghe had spent several chapters seducing his way through the realm of the dead. At this earlier point in the story, it was assumed that living and the dead existed separately.
Except! Except on this one specific day that only fell every twenty years, when the separation between the realm of the living and the realm of the dead became blurry and, if properly enticed, the dead could temporarily cross over and interact with the living.
And – surprise, surprise! – that specific day just happened to be around the time Luo Binghe intended to seduce this maiden, providing him the perfect opportunity to invite her deceased parents into the land of the living so that he could introduce himself and receive their blessing to be wed. They, of course, were incredibly charmed by this handsome and well-spoken young man – not to mention the high status that came with being emperor! – and so they gladly gave their blessing. Luo Binghe married the maiden, they had enthusiastic newlywed sex, and then he promptly forgot about her when the next chapter and next conquest rolled around.
Shen Yuan had raged against this plotline when he first read it. There was a way for the dead and the living to interact, and it had only come up now? Not only that, but why the hell was Luo Binghe choosing to spend this rare opportunity with the family of a woman he’d just met? Wasn’t he an orphan too? Didn’t have his own deceased family members he would want to visit? Shen Yuan cursed Airplane’s name. Shallow, insincere writer! Where was the respect for Luo Binghe’s feelings, huh?!
So, Shen Qingqiu supposed he shouldn’t have been that surprised when Luo Binghe approached him with a bashful request about an upcoming auspicious day.
“Shizun doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to!” Luo Binghe insisted, looking down and fidgeting with his hands. “This disciple understands if– if Shizun is uninterested or has his own family he wishes to see…”
Shen Qingqiu’s heart couldn’t help but soften at Luo Binghe’s display of anxiety. Luo Binghe had gained a great deal of confidence over the years since their marriage, and these days he usually only became shy and bashful when he knew that kind of act would be especially persuasive. This kind of awkward stumbling, however, was painfully genuine, a reminder that some part of Luo Binghe was still a precious white lotus, eager to please and terrified of being trampled.
“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu interrupted his husband’s nervous ramblings, laying a gentle hand over Luo Binghe’s to make him stop fidgeting. Luo Binghe looked up at him through his eyelashes, and Shen Qingqiu gave him a smile. “This master would be honored to meet your mother.”
And so, that was how they found themselves here, on the outskirts of the riverside town where Luo Binghe was raised.
The town itself was modest, large enough to house a market, an inn, and the manor of a moderately wealthy family. Part of him wanted to explore his husband’s old stomping grounds, but he knew young Luo Binghe had spent much of his time here getting stomped upon and the place likely carried very few happy memories for him, so he didn’t push it. Instead, he followed Luo Binghe as he led them not into the town proper, but rather to a rundown plot of land closer to the bank of the river.
Shen Qingqiu’s heart ached abruptly at the sight of the shack that sat on that plot of land, clearly abandoned. The whole building was smaller than his bedroom in the Bamboo House. Was that really where Luo Binghe…?
But even that Luo Binghe ignored. With single-minded focus, he led them to a tall hemlock tree on the edge of the plot and knelt at its base. It required brushing away years of pine needles and dirt, but eventually he managed to reveal a small stone, with the characters for a name inexpertly carved into its surface.
Luo Wenhou.
Luo Binghe had been quiet and withdrawn throughout this whole endeavor, so Shen Qingqiu did his best to provide steady support in his own way. Luo Binghe had locked himself in the palace kitchens for hours leading up to this trip of theirs, so while he methodically cleaned his mother’s gravestone, Shen Qingqiu pulled out all the carefully packaged offerings Luo Binghe had prepared and stored in their qiankun pouches. Perfectly smooth rice balls, fragrant steamed buns, and, of course, a bowl of congee. He arranged these in front of the freshly cleaned grave, followed by the incense, though he let Luo Binghe take responsibility for lighting it.
When Luo Binghe sat back, posture perfect and eyes shut in prayer, Shen Qingqiu followed suit.
Shen Qingqiu… really wasn’t sure what he should do in this situation. He didn’t have ancestors in this world to pray for, unless you counted the original goods’ family. He had a feeling that even if Shen Jiu had known his birth family, he wouldn’t be praying for them anyway. He supposed he could pray for his own birth family, but as far as he knew, they weren’t dead – it was Shen Yuan who was the dead family member. Did that make him the deceased ancestor in this situation? He wasn’t sure what the protocol was on the deceased side of things…
Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn’t hear the way the constant rush of the Luo River grew slightly muffled. He kept his eyes shut even as he heard soft footsteps approaching them, unwilling to disrupt whatever spell this auspicious day cast on them until he was certain it worked.
“Binghe?” called out a woman’s voice. “Is that my Xiao-Binghe?”
“A-Niang,” Luo Binghe answered, his tone slightly desperate. At the sound of his husband scrambling to his feet beside him, Shen Qingqiu decided he was safe to open his eyes and stand too.
The woman who approached them from the shore of the river wasn’t as old as he’d expected – middle-aged, maybe – though that was heartbreaking in its own right. In Luo Binghe’s young eyes, she must have seemed so old, but seeing her now, she likely wasn’t much older than Shen Qingqiu himself. But while he had the benefit of a Golden Core and the body of an Immortal Master, she was distinctly mortal and aged beyond her years through a life of hard labor. Still, her steps were light as mother and son rushed to meet each other in the middle.
She really looked nothing like Luo Binghe. Her hair was much darker than his, and her nose and face shape were completely different. She was short and stocky compared to his tall and willowy frame, the poor woman having to crane her head to look up at him. There was no doubt that everyone in town would’ve known he was a foundling, not her child by birth, and yet Shen Qingqiu could tell at just a glance that she was his mother in all the ways that mattered. Her beaming smile took up her whole face the same way Luo Binghe’s did, and the way she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes to inspect him was remarkably familiar too.
“Binghe, it’s really you,” Luo Wenhou exclaimed softly, and he could hear the resemblance in her voice too, her regional dialect shaping the vowels the same way Luo Binghe did when he was especially impassioned or tired. “Look at you! My Xiao-Binghe is not so little anymore, hm?”
“A-Niang,” Luo Binghe repeated and then, predictably, burst into tears.
Instinct had Shen Qingqiu taking a half step forward in a rush to comfort his husband, but Luo Wenhou got there first, folding her son into an embrace like he was still a small child and not two heads taller than her.
“Ah, what’s this?” she murmured, tucking his face into the crook of her neck and stroking his hair. “So big, and still crying like a baby? What is this mother to do with you?”
“This Binghe missed you so much.” Luo Binghe’s voice was muffled by her shoulder, but Shen Qingqiu could still hear the desperation in his voice.
“Oh, Binghe,” she tsked, pressing her cheek into the side of his head. “A-Niang missed you too.”
Shen Qingqiu stood awkwardly to the side, unwilling to interrupt their moment. Eventually, Luo Binghe collected himself enough to allow his mother to pry him off her shoulder and wipe his cheeks.
“How long has it been?” she gently asked.
Luo Binghe looked down and sniffled. “Eighteen years.”
“No wonder my Binghe is so grown up now!” she exclaimed, cupping his cheek. “Have you been well? Eating properly? Has there been anyone taking care of you?” With this, she glanced over at Shen Qingqiu, who froze.
Uh-oh. This was the one thing he’d been dreading: actually having to introduce himself to his mother-in-law.
“Yes, A-Niang,” Luo Binghe said, turning to him before he could do something stupid like bolt away like a startled deer. He gave Shen Qingqiu a proud – albeit watery – smile. “A-Niang, this is Shen Qingqiu, Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.”
Luo Wenhou’s eyes widened in recognition at the name of their sect. Shen Qingqiu steeled himself and offered her a low bow.
“This humble Shen is honored to meet Luo Wenhou,” he said, years of practice keeping the nerves out of his voice.
“Oh!” Luo Wenhou was briefly stunned. It was unlikely that anyone had ever bowed to her with such respect, especially not someone with as high a status as Shen Qingqiu. Still, she overcame her surprise quickly, turning back to her son with pride on her face. “Does that mean Binghe managed to become a cultivator?”
Luo Binghe nodded proudly. “Shizun taught me very well. This one is honored to be a disciple of Qing Jing Peak.”
Shen Qingqiu bit back the impulse to correct him and say he was much more than just a disciple. “Binghe is the best student this master could ask for,” he said instead. It was easy to sing Luo Binghe’s praises, especially to someone who deserved to hear them more than anyone else. “A quick study and a natural talent. You raised him well, Madam Luo.”
Luo Wenhou surprised him by stepping into his space and fervently grasping his hands. “Thank you, Immortal Master Shen,” she said with the same disarming earnestness that Luo Binghe often used against him. “For raising my son when I could not.”
“Ah.” Shen Qingqiu pulled a hand back to hide behind his fan. “It really was no trouble. Madam Luo surely did all the hard parts, changing diapers and whatever else comes with raising a child. This master had the easy part of teaching him how to cultivate and be a scholar.”
Luo Binghe seemed to want to protest Shen Qingqiu’s humility, but Luo Wenhou chuckled. “This old woman isn’t sure changing diapers is as difficult as teaching someone to cultivate, but we all have our strengths. It’s a relief to know Binghe was cared for.” She squeezed his hand once more, then released him, turning back to smile at Luo Binghe. “Why don’t we sit down, and you tell me everything I’ve missed?”
They sat around her grave, sharing the food they’d laid out as offerings. Luo Binghe got a little weepy again when she praised his congee, but he mostly kept it together as he told her about his years as a disciple on Qing Jing Peak. Much to Shen Qingqiu’s relief, Luo Binghe glossed over those early years, instead choosing to focus on good experiences – mostly bragging about missions he went on and praising his shizun.
Eventually, however, he ran out of happy stories to tell of his adolescence, and he was forced to pause and decide what to share next. Shen Qingqiu resisted the urge to grimace behind his fan. He really did not want Luo Wenhou to hear about the Abyss or the painful years that followed.
“Now, Shizun and I go exploring together,” Luo Binghe said, recovering from his indecision.
“I’m glad you have a shizun who takes such good care of you,” Luo Wenhou said, a knowing glint in her eye.
“Yes, Shizun takes very good care of me,” Luo Binghe said, daring to put a suggestive hand on Shen Qingqiu’s knee. Shen Qingqiu swatted his hand away. Paws off, young man! In front of your mother, no less?!
“Madam Luo, that is something this master was intending to bring up,” he said, gathering his courage. Nearly everyone else hadn’t minded when they got married – though the rest of the sect had been annoyed that they hadn’t been able to throw a massive wedding – but surely this is something Luo Binghe’s mother would have feelings about? You know, the whole being gay thing? Don’t mothers usually want grandkids? “I regret that I was unable to meet you before and ask permission, but I hope you will forgive this Shen.” He gave Luo Binghe his hand to hold to distract him from pawing at his robes. “Madam Luo, your son and I have been married for three years now.”
Luo Wenhou examined him for an excruciating moment, then smiled kindly. “Thank you for telling me, son-in-law.”
Shen Qingqiu’s heart fluttered frantically. Son-in-law! Sure, he’d heard the title teasingly said by Tianlang-jun, but it felt different coming from the person who actually raised his husband. Luo Binghe squeezed his hand and when he looked over, he found him absolutely beaming at him.
“This humble Luo is very honored that my Binghe could marry into an immortal master’s house and be his… first wife?” she said, glancing at Luo Binghe for confirmation. Shen Qingqiu spluttered. First wife?! Try only husband! Wait, why was Binghe nodding, stop that!! “My only regret is that I couldn’t provide anything to the dowry.”
Shen Qingqiu snorted. “Oh, Binghe provides plenty,” he said dryly and half to himself. He’d mostly been thinking about Luo Binghe’s incredible dedication to his house husband lifestyle, but to his surprise, Luo Binghe winced beside him.
“A-Niang…” Luo Binghe began hesitantly. “This Binghe has something else to share with you. Something less pleasant.”
Shen Qingqiu blinked at him. What other news did he need to share? What could be a bigger deal than telling your mother you’re gay?
Luo Binghe took in a breath and, on the exhale, revealed his zuiyin. The points of his ears poked through his curls, the fingers interlaced with Shen Qingqiu’s became claw-tipped, and he gnawed on his bottom lip with a sharp fang.
Ah. Right. The demon thing. He supposed that was a pretty big deal.
“This Binghe is a half-demon,” he admitted, staring down at his lap. Shen Qingqiu squeezed his hand encouragingly. “I swear, A-Niang, I never meant to hide it from you. I didn’t even know myself. Begging A-Niang’s forgiveness. A-Niang is an honorable woman and surely never would’ve harbored a demon had she known–”
“Binghe,” Luo Wenhou interrupted his panicked spiral, reaching across to cradle his cheek and lift his gaze to hers. “Silly child, I’ve always known my Binghe was special.”
“You… What?” Luo Binghe blinked, bewildered. Luo Wenhou gave him a fondly exasperated look, a sentiment Shen Qingqiu certainly had personal experience with.
“Binghe, when you were very little, you used to growl at things,” she said gently.
Shen Qingqiu didn’t manage to muffle his snort, struggling to disguise it as a cough. Luo Binghe’s jaw dropped.
“No I didn’t!” he protested.
“You did,” Luo Wenhou insisted with a soft laugh. “I thought it was due to your time on the streets as a baby, but now…”
It was so rare to see Luo Binghe taken completely off guard. Shen Qingqiu struggled valiantly not to laugh at his dear sensitive husband in this moment of vulnerability.
“You also bit through every teething aid I gave you,” Luo Wenhou added helpfully.
Shen Qingqiu gave up and began laughing helplessly, only barely managing to hide behind his fan. Luo Binghe gaped at him like he couldn’t decide whether to be delighted by his husband’s laughter or feel betrayed that his husband was laughing at him.
“So… A-Niang knew?” Luo Binghe asked weakly.
“Not entirely. I just knew my Binghe was different.” Luo Wenhou patted his cheek. “I had always wanted a child but never thought I would have one. When you came into my life… You were a blessing. You could have been the spirit of the Luo River for all I cared. I was simply happy to have a son of my own.”
Luo Binghe, the big crybaby he was, promptly began sobbing again. Luo Wenhou embraced him again, and Shen Qingqiu rubbed his back, the two of them exchanging expressions that read what are we to do with him?
Shen Qingqiu’s heart did twinge seeing him like this. After all the time that had passed, he’d thought Luo Binghe no longer felt as ashamed of his heritage as he once did. Those insecurities must run deeper than he realized.
Once Luo Binghe calmed down to just sniffles, his mother pushed him back upright. “This old woman will admit, you cultivators must know much more about demons than just a humble washerwoman. All I know are stories, which… are usually unflattering.” She squeezed his arm encouragingly. “Tell your mother what this means?”
Luo Binghe sniffled once more and nodded, visibly collecting himself. He explained that he was a Heavenly Demon and described what that entailed. His mother seemed pleased to hear that her son was immune to nearly every poison and disease and could heal from nearly every injury at rapid speed. With as hard of a life she’d lived, it must’ve been a relief to know her son was virtually unkillable. Then, bashfully, he admitted his status among other demons.
“The Emperor?” This seemed to be her first true shock of the night, eyes wide. “My Xiao-Binghe? Emperor of the Demon Realm?”
Luo Binghe nodded. “Most of it, at least,” he added humbly. “There are some regions on the western outskirts that have remained unconquered. We have established trade alliances with them for now. It would’ve been more trouble than it was worth to waste resources conquering, so it was more profitable to simply ally with them.”
“My Xiao-Binghe, talking of conquering and trade alliances,” she repeated in a gobsmacked daze.
“Well, it was Shizun’s idea,” Luo Binghe said.
“Ah? And whose clever charm was it that won them over?” Shen Qingqiu shot back. This disciple of his, so eager to beg for praise, only to deflect when he felt his master deserved it more! As if anyone could deserve praise more than Luo Binghe! “Whose strategic mind sketched out every detail of the trade deals? Who deflected an assassination attempt against his new allies right in the middle of those negotiations? Certainly not this master!”
“Everything this disciple learned about strategy, he learned from Shizun,” Luo Binghe insisted. This was an argument they’d had many times with no winner yet. “This lord would be nothing without the cultivation world’s chief strategist at his side.”
Shen Qingqiu swatted at him with his fan. “Cheeky! Binghe could certainly handle himself without this master, I’m sure of it.”
Luo Binghe smiled at the smack, then focused on his mother again. “This Binghe is sure this isn’t what A-Niang expected from her son’s future,” he said self-consciously. “Truly, this Binghe would be perfectly content spending his days tending house for his husband, cooking for him in our humble home–”
Shen Qingqiu swatted at him again. Enough of the cottagecore fantasies! They’d lived like that in their secluded cabin during their honeymoon, and it was lovely, but there was only so much he could handle before he started climbing the walls in need of enrichment. He liked a little excitement in his life sometimes, sue him! Surely Binghe was the same? There was no way he actually wanted to spend his days barefoot in the kitchen… right?
That managed to startle Luo Wenhou back into awareness, her brow pinching in confusion. “Is Binghe apologizing for his high status?” she asked. “Binghe, the things a mother wants most for her child are for them to grow up happy and successful. I would’ve been proud of you just for becoming a cultivator. To learn that you married a man of high status who clearly adores you,” Shen Qingqiu’s cheeks flushed at being called out so plainly. Of course he adored him! It was Binghe! Who wouldn’t adore him?! “And to learn that you have achieved so much success that you became emperor? Binghe, I couldn’t possibly be more proud of you.”
Luo Binghe sighed as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He sniffled snottily but valiantly held back his tears. Instead, he took his mother’s hands and smiled sadly. “I wish you could see it, A-Niang. I’ve missed you so much.”
“Such a clingy child,” she chided him without heat. “You’ve clearly been doing well without this old woman.”
“No!” he exclaimed, suddenly squeezing her hands so hard it would probably hurt if she were still alive. “No, that’s not true! A-Niang, Mama, this Binghe has never stopped needing you. When you died…” The tears were starting to glisten in his eyes again, “A-Niang, I thought I’d lost the only person who could ever love me.”
“Who couldn’t love Binghe?” Luo Wenhou said, echoing Shen Qingqiu’s thoughts. She pressed a gentle kiss to his zuiyin even as he began to cry. “Shh, it’s alright. You know this isn’t goodbye forever. This time, this mother can rest happily knowing her son has found someone who loves him as much as she did.” She stroked his cheeks, and Shen Qingqiu noticed with alarm that he could see Luo Binghe’s skin through her hands. “We’ll see each other again. I’m sure in another twenty years, Binghe will have even more exploits to share with this old woman. And maybe some grandchildren, hm?” she added, winking at Shen Qingqiu, who made a strangled noise. Excuse you, Madam Luo, but they were both men! It wasn’t that easy! Sure, she fished a child out of the river, but that wasn’t a typical method of baby acquisition!
“A-Niang,” Luo Binghe cried, bereft, but she was already fading away. She gave him one last loving smile, and then she was gone.
This time, Shen Qingqiu was the one to catch Luo Binghe as he began weeping in earnest, allowing him to bury his face in the collars of Shen Qingqiu’s robes. Shen Qingqiu folded his arms around him, rocking him gently as he got it all out of his system.
“Binghe,” he murmured, rubbing his back. “Husband, it’s alright.”
“I thought,” Luo Binghe cut himself off with another shaking sob, “I thought it would be easier the second time.”
“At least this time she could say goodbye,” Shen Qingqiu said consolingly. “This time you weren’t alone.”
Luo Binghe took a shuddering breath and rubbed his face on Shen Qingqiu’s chest, undoubtedly smearing snot all over his robes. “Did… Did Shizun like her?”
“I did.” He lifted Luo Binghe’s face out of his robes and stroked away his tears with his thumb. “It’s nice to meet the person who raised my Binghe. Of course such a kind woman would raise such a wonderful son.”
Luo Binghe tilted his head to press a kiss into Shen Qingqiu’s palm. “I’m glad she liked Shizun. Everyone should like Shizun.”
“Silly boy,” he scolded, as if he hadn’t been nervous about making a good impression on his mother-in-law. “If only she’d had the chance to share stories from your childhood. Maybe next time, your mother and I can take turns embarrassing you, hm?”
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe whined.
Shen Qingqiu laughed and took pity on him, leaning down to press a kiss to his zuiyin just like his mother had. It’s not his fault Binghe came with a target on his forehead saying kisses here, please! He left a few more chaste kisses on his brow for good measure, then leaned back. “Do you want to spend the night in town? Or should we head home?”
“Can we… stay here a while?” Luo Binghe asked, curling his fingers into Shen Qingqiu’s robes. “Shizun might enjoy the sight of the river when the sun rises.”
“Whatever Binghe likes,” Shen Qingqiu agreed easily. He maneuvered them until they could rest between the roots of the tree, nestled beside Luo Wenhou’s gravestone. Luo Binghe glued himself to his lap, and together, they watched dawn break over the Luo River. Shen Qingqiu ignored the roots digging into his ass and the cold air, instead focusing his mind on the heavy weight of his husband on his lap – and on his encyclopedic memory of Proud Immortal Demon Way.
If he remembered correctly, there was an artifact that could bind a ghost to an object that was important to them in life, allowing them to manifest physically… Maybe if used in conjunction with the Guanyin pendant…
Shen Qingqiu made a mental note to pester Shang Qinghua about it later and settled in to watch the sunrise.