Content warnings: PTSD anxiety attack, and descriptions of physical injuries.

Dawn had barely broken when Shen Qingqiu rapped hesitantly on Binghe's bedroom door – without response.

"Your Binghe is in the kitchen, Shizun!" Binghe called out cheerfully, as he heard the distant knocking. Shen Qingqiu found him already in the kitchen slicing up fruit for their breakfast.

"Of course Binghe is up early," his teacher said, voice rich with amused affection. His left arm was tucked behind his back, while his right hand wielded a fan for its usual purpose – hiding his expressions.

"This disciple would never dare to ignore Shizun's instructions!" Binghe carefully arranged the cut fruit on two plates, fanning out thin slices of plum, alternated with some starfruit and mangosteen in a delicate pattern. Only the best fruit for Shizun! If he couldn't cook to display his caring and expertise, he must serve only the ripest and most precious fruits, made into a feast for the eyes as well as the lips.

"I have Binghe's gift ready," his Shizun said, bringing his arm out from hiding to present Binghe with a green sash. He tucked away his fan in his sleeve as he did so, so both hands were free to show off his gift.

Binghe quickly wiped his hands clean before he turned to accept the sash. It was unremarkable in appearance, looking like an ordinary green cloth sash in the typical bamboo green of Qing Jing Peak.

"Let me tie it on you… for luck," his Shizun said. His hands were, oddly, shaking slightly as he replaced Binghe's old sash with the new one.

Is it the intimacy of the moment that has him trembling? Binghe hoped it was, but his Shizun drew away swiftly once the sash was tightly secured, his movements disappointingly devoid of any lingering touches.

"You will leave your new belt on during the conference, and you must leave it strictly alone. Trust me, you will know when to take it off! You must wear it at all times while you're in Jue Di Gorge."

"This discipline will not take Shizun's gift off except to bathe, and will guard it at all times while I do!" Binghe said, fussing curiously at the belt, but carefully not trying to untie it. Was there a qiankun pouch hidden in the lining? It was a little thicker in the centre, as if it had one too many layers of cloth all the way across the front half of the sash. There was also a touch of qi embedded in it that teased at his senses. He poked at it curiously, running a finger along the seams. Then he twisted the sash lightly as he tried to access the side next to his belly, wondering where the pouch's opening was, only to be rapped on the knuckles by his Shizun's swiftly-drawn folded fan.

"Ow!" He drew his hand back, hurt by the sting of it.

"No! Leave it alone," Shizun said sternly, his voice low and serious.

His face bore a dissatisfied scowl that had Binghe suppressing a flinch. Not because his Shizun's expression was unfamiliar, but because it was familiar. Just not a look he had seen so sharp and clear in almost four years; the angry crease between his furrowed eyebrows, the tightness of his thin lips. He glanced nervously at the teapot and cups on a tray on the kitchen counter. Surely he wasn't going to have tea tipped on his head again? Or be beaten again? The teapot was cold and empty, however, ready to be filled from the kettle for the morning meal. That at least wouldn't be an option. Though a whip would be much worse than hot tea…

It was just a light fan tap, he promised himself. He does that sometimes. Harder than his usual playful rebukes but not… not bad. Not like it used to be. He watched his Shizun's hands anxiously, his heart racing and his breath short. Would he raise them to strike at him? Would he go and find a whip? Luo Binghe had answered wrong, ignoring what his Shizun had told him. He'd prepared a terrible breakfast too. It was all his fault! His Shizun was never like this; it must be his own fault somehow!

Shizun mustn't change back to how he was before! I couldn't bear it!

His chest was tight with pain. He straightened the belt back frantically, trying to restore it to exactly how it had been positioned when Shizun tied it on him.

"Are you listening to this master? Leave it be, don't fuss with it or take it off! You must wear it at all times!"

"Yes, Shizun! At all times!" Binghe echoed, eager to appease and soothe his Shizun's odd bout of temper. He bowed his head and his hands dropped to his sides instantly, while his eyes covertly darted around the room like a trapped animal, checking for threats and lines of escape.

His Shizun still didn't seem satisfied. Perhaps Binghe's false, appeasing smile was to blame.

"Listen to me, Binghe," he said, lifting Binghe's head up with the tip of his fan under his chin, "don't just agree meaninglessly without thinking about it! Important things must be said three times; when I say 'always' I mean always. You will wear it when you bathe, you will wear it when you're relieving yourself behind a bush. You'll protect it over your sect-issued qiankun pouch, even over your own spiritual sword if need be. You'll wear it if you get covered in entrails or acidic demon spit… if you need to wash some noxious substance off you must jump into a river still wearing the sash. You'll wear it if some pretty and fragile shijie distracts you in the competition and begs you to give her your magical healing cock–"

Binghe choked from embarrassment at the sudden crudity of expression from his usually untouchably refined teacher. Why was Shizun saying something like that?!

"–you can lie with her if you must, but you'll keep that sash on while you do so. I don't care how stupid it might look! Am I clear?"

"This disciple will, Shizun, I promise!" he said, face bright red and hot with embarrassment. "Is Shizun still angry with his disciple? This one promises he is listening, and swears he will not disrespect Shizun's gift!"

His mind was a mess, half anxiety at his Shizun's reversion to a bad temper, and half obsessing over the idea that his Shizun was thinking about him having sex. The shock of it was almost calming, giving him something less worrisome to think about.

Shizun thinks about my cock, he thought incredulously, struggling to focus on anything else. Shizun is thinking about me being naked. Stop thinking about that, idiot! Oh no, he's looking at me!

"It's not… it won't protect you from any harm, you know," his Shizun said, and the gentle sigh he let out as his fan dropped away from under Binghe's chin was like a refreshing breeze to Binghe, soft and normal and calming.

"This master is sorry… sorry that I lost my temper, and that I spoke so crudely to you. I really didn't mean to upset you, so please take some deep breaths and relax, alright? I put a little work into your gift but don't misunderstand me… it's not a rare artifact, it's nothing truly special, just a… but we won't talk about that. I'm pretty sure you've already guessed anyway. Just wear it inside Jue Di Gorge and don't take it off until you have left the gorge. I worked too hard on this for… just wear it, alright?"

Shizun's repeating himself a lot, but he's calming down… it's not like before… he's calm, it will be alright, Luo Binghe thought with relief. He clearly doesn't want me to talk about the sash being a qiankun pouch, so I won't. Of course it's not a rare spiritual treasure, that would be a waste for one such as me, and not permitted by competition rules in any case.

"This disciple understands. And… Shizun should know that this one wouldn't… do that with a shijie," Binghe mumbled, his hands clenching the fabric on his thighs into nervous, scrunched knots. "Shizun must not imagine Binghe would."

"Ah, Binghe, your Shizun is sorry to have spoken so harshly. I apologise again. I have frightened and confused you; forgive me. This master was not angry with you, I could never be truly angry with you. I am… worried for you. I cannot help it."

His Shizun patted his hair gently, and all was right with the world again. Binghe's hands loosened from their anxious fists. He leant into the soft touch on his head with tears glistening in his eyes, and was cradled against his teacher's side for a few precious moments in a blissful hug as he sniffled sadly. He let his tears fall freely, relishing the comfort and closeness he earned in exchange.

"Binghe may do as he wishes with his willing shijies, or nothing at all, it is not this master's place to judge such matters. I… I only wish for your happiness, little though I may add to it. It is not enough, but it will have to be enough, for time is…"

His confusing sentence trailed off into nothing, and Shizun's mouth was twisted into something that looked oddly like guilt, or sadness, before he buried it behind a stiff smile.

They paused then for breakfast, leaving the kitchen behind to sit together at the low dining table, picking at their simple breakfast of fruit. His Shizun was silent, perhaps lost in thought the same way Binghe was.

He… wishes for my happiness? Binghe thought, still anxious but now for a new reason, a better one born of hope rather than fear. He thinks of me uh… bedding a shijie, and wishes it was him who could bring me that happiness? Could it be? But he thinks he cannot add to my happiness… what does it all mean? I could… what should I say? If he doubts his welcome, then I must encourage him. Is there hope for me?

After breakfast was done, Binghe decided to test the waters of his Shizun's intentions. He cleared the dishes away – a simple job – and then found his teacher picking over his collection of fans, tucking away a spare in his sleeve.

"Shizun… if this green sash is… a special gift," Binghe said, glancing nervously at his Shizun, "if it means something and may help keep this disciple safe… then… aren't I owed three kisses, as well? Like in the story?"

Binghe knew who Shizun was now, in Gawain-laozong's story. He'd thought at first that Shizun was almost certainly the green-clad mysterious warrior (and secret cut-sleeve) who laughed in the face of a mortal injury that would kill a lesser man, or perhaps that there was a small chance that Shizun was the noble King Arthur whom Gawain must sacrifice himself for. With the gift of the sash though, he thought he finally understood. Today Shizun was the lord's wife tempting the handsome young warrior with a priceless gift, hungry for forbidden kisses.

Binghe held his breath, eyes wide, while his Shizun considered his bold claim. His Shizun was looking shocked, but wasn't drawing away, which could only be a good sign.

"That connection was well observed, Binghe. I… this master supposes that it may help you remember the gift's importance, and this teacher's stories," he said tentatively. Slowly, watching Binghe intently for his reaction, he reached out to clasp Binghe's hand and raised it to his lips. His lips were warm and smooth as he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Binghe's hand.

A swift glance at thin air, wordless and frozen for a moment like always, seemed to spur his Shizun into further action, to Binghe's blissful surprise.

"That was… alright?" his Shizun checked, letting go of his hand and stepping heart-stoppingly closer.

"Yes, Shizun, this one is very happy with whatever affection Shizun will grant him," Binghe said breathlessly.

Shizun was so close now, closer than he ever stood unless Binghe was being granted the rare privilege of a hug, but his Shizun was hesitating and unusually shy and it felt so intimate standing so close, gazing into each other's eyes. Binghe realised with a flush of excitement that he was as tall as his Shizun now. Maybe taller! Surely tall enough to be regarded as an adult! He was old enough to marry, truly!

"Binghe must know and remember," Shizun murmured, "that there is nothing about Binghe that this master dislikes."

His right hand stretched out to cradle the back of Binghe's head, stroking Binghe's soft hair before his grasp firmed and pulled him forward. Pliant and excited, Binghe let himself be gently drawn down into… a kiss on the middle of his forehead?!

Binghe let out a tiny whimper. No! he thought, half delighted and half embodied with pure frustration. More! Shizuuun!

"Shizun… I am still owed one kiss," he pleaded, tilting his head up and trying to look enticing and seductive. He fluttered his eyelashes and let his tongue dart out to wet his lips, the way Ning Yingying had coached him, supportive of his efforts to slowly seduce their Shizun. She was such a good friend, his shijie!

Shizun looked distant again, his hand frozen on the back of Binghe's head. Binghe wouldn't have minded it staying there forever if he wasn't so desperate to be kissed again. Preferably a real kiss this time! Whatever Shizun's curse was, it didn't seem to be inclined to halt further intimacy, which Binghe could bless it for.

Would my kiss – true love's kiss – cure Shizun? he hoped, desperately. Even if it doesn't… what bliss!

"What if…" his Shizun murmured nervously, looking torn. His warm palm slid around from the back of Binghe's head to instead cradle his cheek, and his face leant closer, his breath soft on Binghe's face. He was glancing at Binghe's lips now and it thrilled Binghe to his core.

"You're seventeen, after all, that's not so young. I never thought before… and I'm surely not as good a partner as a pretty girl, but if it brings you a lot of satisfaction then would it perhaps be worth the risk? Would you forgive this master if… Maybe just once… Binghe, since you asked… may I k-kiss…?"

"Yes, Shizun," Binghe panted, lips parting with gentle eagerness, breathless with anticipation. He reached out tentatively, his hands trembling, yearning to wrap around his Shizun's waist. "Please."

Don't pull him too close, he coached himself, hands fluttering uncertainly in mid-air, he'll feel… that if you press too much against him. Don't frighten him away!

At that very moment as Binghe's hands skimmed his Shizun's silk-clad lean waist, as his Shizun closed his eyes and leant in close, Ming Fan knocked sharply on the door.

"Shizun, the carriage is ready and everyone is assembled for departure!" Ming Fan called loudly, from outside.

His Shizun instantly drew back, startled into resuming a proper distance. In a whirl of green robes – swift as a breeze as only cultivators could be – he'd darted across to the other side of the room. The door hadn't even opened yet, but the mere threat of it was enough to scare him away from Binghe's suddenly painfully vacant arms.

Binghe was filled with a burst of possessive anger at the intrusion ruining his moment with his secret love, ruining his almost first real kiss. He felt the kind of boiling rage Meng Mo had warned him those with demonic heritage were prone to and that he mustn't ever show to humans if he wanted to pass as normal. It felt like fire down his spiritual veins, like his blood was burning him from the inside. His head ached with the pain of it all, a sharp nexus of pressure.

He barely heard Shizun's murmured desperate apologies, begging quietly for forgiveness for his mistake over and over.

An old fantasy drifted through Binghe's mind, of Ming Fan helpless and screaming as he was staked out atop a nest of flesh-eating ants.

It would serve him right! he thought viciously, and the cruel vision of it brought a kind of momentary relief from his pain.

He is no threat, he thought. Shizun doesn't like him like that, he's not here trying to steal Shizun at all. And even if he was, I could beat him if I needed to; get rid of him for good. Not that I will! But I could.

As he focused back on his Shizun, he saw his eyes were distant and focused on nothing in that special blank way, before he shook himself back into life.

"Now it's a loss… a loss! And it would likely not have been enough anyway," Shizun murmured to himself sadly, "and we're out of time. Please believe me, I'm so sorry, Binghe, truly I am. More than words can say."

He snapped his fan shut with a sharp gesture (Binghe wasn't sure when he'd even gotten it out), and stalked out of the bamboo house, trailed by Binghe.

'It would not have been enough for me anyway.' Binghe echoed the core of his Shizun's wistful complaint in his own mind, his instincts purring and calmly content now that the one he wanted, the man he'd chosen, wanted him back insatiably! Had unmistakably wanted to kiss him!

"There will be time for many things after the conference," Binghe offered shyly, wary of saying anything too direct lest he scare off his Shizun's still-tentative interest, or alert the potentially eavesdropping Ming Fan to any hints of impropriety.

"Of course there will be," his Shizun said, but the joy was gone from his voice, and his face was still sad. "But I won't do… anything like that again, I promise you. Please Binghe, please don't be angry with me for my shameful mistake… I'm so, so sorry."

Binghe glared furiously at Ming Fan's back as he followed his Shizun outside, his blood boiling with anger once more, though less intensely. It was all his fault for ruining everything!

Shizun flinched at nothing as he hurried past Ming Fan, on the way to their waiting carriages and horses. Binghe was sure his Shizun's flinch was his shixiong's fault too, somehow.

-000-

Much later at the conference, when Binghe revived from being knocked unconscious, he came to kneeling on the ground amidst a ruined landscape. He was very confused at first. What had happened to the ice demon whom he'd been fighting? His body was a mass of pain from the battle. His head ached, his blood felt like magma in his veins, and his meridians also felt strange.

The demon king was gone – excellent. He'd worried there for a moment that he might be abducted to be his bride, like Persephone. He'd hissed a quiet refusal to the demon in the middle of the battle, but the ice demon had only given him a look of utter confusion and said nothing in reply. There had been no desire in his gaze, which was good, for he only wanted Shizun.

Shizun?! Shizun was in front of him; good, Shizun was safe!

No, he's spitting up blood all over his robes. Shizun, what's wrong? Binghe wondered groggily. His Shizun looked furious, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he stared off into the distance, an angry snarl fixed on his unmoving face.

His anger dropped away instantly as he saw Binghe stirring, much to Binghe's relief. His eyes were no longer enraged at empty air but instead gazed more softly at Binghe with what he thought might be concern, or perhaps determination. It wasn't a happy look, which was worrying, but at least the fury wasn't for him.

"Awake?" his Shizun asked. "Let us have a talk, then. Tell me, how long have you been practicing demonic cultivation techniques?"

Oh no! Binghe felt frozen with fear, forgetting every pain in his body which all felt inconsequential in the face of losing his Shizun. "Shizun, this disciple can explain…" he began, desperation widening his eyes.

His Shizun just sighed, looking tired as he wiped blood off from around his own mouth with the back of his hand. "How long?" he asked quietly.

"…Two years."

"It shows," his Shizun replied. "You have a natural talent for it, and now the techniques you have so carefully cultivated are… obvious. Literally written on your face." Shizun's eyes were shadowed and sad as he gazed at Binghe. Not looking at his eyes but above them, at his temples. "You are changed, Binghe, by demonic qi. Marked for all the world to see now Mobei Jun has unlocked your true potential as a half-demon."

Was that the ice demon's name? Binghe wondered. Shizun was surely right.

Binghe patted uncertainly at his face, then felt around at the top of his head. "What happened… do I have horns?" he asked, unconsciously murmuring his panicked thoughts aloud. He didn't feel any!

"No, but… Binghe can no longer pass as human," his Shizun replied, firm and unyielding. "Your forehead, Binghe, bears the fiery red seal of a Heavenly Demon, and your eyes are blood red. Even without those clear signs, you give off the resentful energy of a powerful demon. You are not going to learn how to suppress any of those signs fast enough, and skilled cultivators will be able to sense your energy. Are surely sensing it at this moment and are likely heading here to confront the powerful demon who no doubt led this incursion."

"Shizun, I didn't! I would never be so cruel!" Binghe pleaded, shuffling into a more correct kneeling position for the best grovelling possible. "You know that! You taught me over and over that demons can still be good, and I am! It was Mobei Jun, you saw him, you fought him too – you can explain it to everyone!"

"They will not all listen. He has fled, and your life is forfeit if you remain here. There is only a minute to spare, no more."

His teacher's gaze shifted to the ravine in the earth that had opened up nearby. Demonic energy roiled out from the chasm, its bottom was concealed with crimson ghostlight and ominous black fog. A terrible sound emanated from its depths, a noise like a thousand eerie wails of pain, hungry snarls, and shrieks of terror: the sounds of the hunters and the hunted below. One could only occasionally catch crimson-lit glimpses of their clawed limbs through the dark fog shrouding the ravine.

"This is what must be, Binghe. You must enter the Endless Abyss, and I beg for you not to fight me over what fate has decreed. Once upon a time…" his Shizun said, leadingly.

Oh. Yes, I know who I am now, Binghe thought wildly. Like you promised, Shizun, one day it would all suddenly make sense! I'm the brave young cultivator who must take a mortal blow without flinching from his attacker who doesn't truly want to harm him. I'm the half-demon like Ariel who cannot bear to fight against the man who will betray her and who must thus lose her love… and her life. I'm Achilles who can no longer hide his harsh nature nor escape his blood-drenched fate, who can no longer stay soft and hidden, loved and protected. I'm the Emperor whose loved one pleads for mercy and understanding with every intimately murmured tale. And above all, I'm Guanyin and I'm Persephone, doomed to be sent to a demon realm, whose loved ones hope despite everything to be forgiven for condemning them there.

He rose to his feet and stumbled to the edge of the chasm that his Shizun had identified – somehow – as leading to the Endless Abyss. Where else could it lead, looking like that?!

Shizun's hands on his chest firmly pushed him, without resistance, into the perilous chasm, and the last sad glimpse of the world above Luo Binghe had as he fell was of his teacher's tear-streaked face. As he plummeted through fire and earth, hearing the crackle of flames and the metallic shrieks of hungry demons, he wondered how long Shizun knew he'd been raising a demon. Binghe also wondered if he would ever, like Persephone and Guanyin, have the chance to return… to escape. Would he ever have a chance to ask for answers? What curse had the heavens inflicted on his Shizun, to know a man's fate but be stricken with muteness and unable to warn him directly of it? Would he ever see his beloved again?

He hit the bottom of the chasm and the harsh ground struck like a hammer blow, and for a time he knew no more.

-000-

With his left leg broken, his body battered and bruised, and his clothes torn and covered in blood, red-brown dirt, and his enemies' fuchsia bile, Binghe dragged himself into the dubious shelter offered by a cluster of looming, jagged boulders. There was enough of a shadowy overhang to shield him somewhat from the sight of the flock of Bat-Winged Shriekers screeching overhead, and he was now far enough from the shore of the blood-red river that the unidentified thing in the water with claws and tentacles couldn't pursue him any longer. The air was bitter with the smell of smoke, sulphur, and the iron tang of blood.

He coughed as he let out a brief bark of wild laughter. "Well, Shizun," he said to no-one, "I'm not in Jue Di Gorge any longer!"

Hands shaking with fatigue and pain, he untied and retied his sash, letting the opening of the qiankun pouch face outwards this time instead of being hidden tight against his body. Even if it ended up being completely empty, without the healing pills or bandages he was hoping to find inside, he didn't want to risk losing the last gift that his Shizun had pressed upon him with such insistent urgency and tenderness.

The monsters of the Endless Abyss hadn't let him rest for more than a moment since he'd tumbled down the chasm to the harsh rocks below. This was the first bit of peace he'd managed to snatch for himself since he'd stirred awake, broken and starved. He didn't know how long it had been. Four shichen? Six? A day? More? He'd been unconscious for enough time to grow hungry while he'd slept, and since he'd woken the sky hadn't changed. The sky was still the ugly crimson it had always been; there was no night, at least not yet, just the endless burning sky.

"Healing supplies… please," he begged, pleading in a quiet whisper with the qiankun pouch like it could hear him, as his left hand, less injured than his right, dipped inside.

His hand emerged with a spill of tiny, labelled ceramic bottles. Overflowing his clutch as they burst out in a flood, some slipped through his fingers and tumbled to the ground.

He picked them up, frantic with joy, then frantic with worry that some demonic beast would bound around the corner and he'd lose his precious gifts. He skimmed the labels as he stuffed most of the tiny bottles hastily back in the pouch.

For severe poisoning. For infection. To help regrow limbs – his Shizun thought he'd need this?! His Shizun was probably, sadly, correct. To treat springtime urges. What?! He had medicines to treat erections? Surely harmless but embarrassing 'springtime' flowers wouldn't grow in a terrible place like the Endless Abyss! For diseases of the skin. For bone-mending.

That one he opened, prising off the wax and unstoppering the bottle. Carefully tipping out one of a dozen tiny pills rattling around inside the container, he swallowed it dry, and with a painful grab and yank of his shin made sure that the damaged bones in his left leg were correctly aligned for the best results. The dull ache in his leg increased rather than lessened as the pill took effect, and so did his ribs, but that was a good sign in this case, a sign that things were already starting to mend.

Antidote to most snake venom. Antidote to poison slime. Anti-fungal: apply topically if infested. Ew. Binghe's mind flashed back to one of the many herbals that Shizun had insisted he read. He knew of some parasitic demonic mushrooms that he shuddered to think he might encounter it in the Endless Abyss.

"Shizun," he murmured, tearing up at his teacher's thoughtfulness as he replaced the rest of the bottles, pausing only to take another pill from a larger-sized bottle labelled 'For mild pain & minor healing'. His leg still ached, but it was a good ache now, and lessened; the bone was knitting. His breathing was easier too, as some damage to his ribs he'd barely noticed was also being repaired.

"You were thinking of me all along, training me! You knew I would have to come here… how did you know? A seer you spoke to? A vision? A deal with a demon? Did you see a future your curse forbid you from speaking of? What did the heavens do to you, Shizun? What price did you pay for your knowledge?"

As he healed, slowly but surely, he rummaged through the contents of the qiankun pouch that he discovered was stuffed to capacity. The line to open it ran a foot long, stretching right across the now-front of the sash. Two full waterskins were a joyous discovery, and he took several careful sips of blissfully clean and cool water to the relief of his parched throat.

Small, tightly wrapped cloth bundles were labelled simply 'Food' and it made him laugh at his Shizun. His teacher was such a gourmet when he ate, but such a terrible cook. He ate the handful of nuts, dried berries, and fatty spiced meat jerky from one of the smaller bundles with thanks that his Shizun had prepared something that required no cooking whatsoever, and that would last well. He folded the cloth into a compact small roll afterwards, tying it back up with the small piece of string. It might be useful later.

He took things out from the pouch and replaced them there immediately afterwards, learning what wealth of possessions he now had. There was a slight resistance every time he replaced items; the qiankun pouch was truly filled to capacity despite its impressive volume for its size.

A blanket. Bandages. A herbal about demonic plants. A bestiary about demonic creatures. A change of clothes. A cooking pot. A small bag of salt. A sheathed sword.

A sword! Binghe drew it out eagerly, securing it immediately around his waist. It was one of the many plain spare swords for disciples Shizun had commissioned from Wan Jian Peak with the spirit stones he'd earned with his monster-hunting expeditions right before the Immortal Alliance Conference. He wept with happiness, tears blazing clear paths down his filthy cheeks. He wouldn't have to fight with his bare hands or sharp rocks any longer. He could fight like a man, rather than a beast.

A small knife for skinning. A rectangular piece of canvas to use as a shelter. A tightly wound coil of thin rope. A scroll tied with a pale green ribbon, labelled 'Once Upon A Time…'

He sobbed as he untied the ribbon, tears streaming down his face as he read a precious final story from his Shizun.

'Once upon a time, there was a kind and intelligent herbalist and scholar by the name of Xu Xiyan who won the love of a beautiful lady, Bai Suzhen, on a rainy day by the lake when he lent her his umbrella. Quickly falling in love, the two married and Bai Suzhen helped him run his medicine shop. When a plague struck their city, she compounded a cure for the populace, even though Xu Xiyan's bitter former employer had sold them only rotten herbs to concoct their cures with. The people of the city were grateful beyond words and loved their saviours.'

Shizun, Binghe thought to himself, imagining his teacher was reading him the story, are you the scholar? Despite how you pushed me into the Endless Abyss, I know that you are kind at heart, and of course you are an intelligent scholar. Or are you the beautiful lady?

I think, Shizun, that there will be a demon or a demon realm in this story, proving to me even more that you knew what I am, more than I did myself. Will you try and explain some more about why I had to fall by your hand, or what your curse is?

He did not have to wait long to be proven right in his guess.

'One day a monk, Fahai, visited the medicine shop, and asked to speak secretly with Xu Xiyan. He warned him that there was a demon in his house… a demon named Bai Suzhen. Xu Xiyan laughed, for he knew that his kind-hearted and resourceful wife could not be a demon.'

Another story with a kind demon representing myself. Thank you, Shizun, for telling this disciple over and over that being a demon does not have to mean that you have to be cruel-hearted or violent.

Binghe looked down at his bloodstained hands and clothes and thought back to the fights he'd recently triumphed in… albeit barely, at times. Well, he conceded, I did that to survive, not because I wished to be randomly cruel! And perhaps I enjoyed my triumphs, but who would not?! Liu-shishu delights in his battles, and he is certainly no demon. Well… not to my knowledge, anyway.

After a glance around to reassure himself that no enemies were closing in on his tiny bit of shelter, he returned to the story.

'Fahai did not give up, earnestly arguing that Xu Xiyan was in danger. Should he wish to test his wife, on the day of the Dragon Boat Festival he should give her realgar wine: a drink that would only be harmful to a demon and would have no effect on a mortal. Xu Xiyan insisted his wife was no demon, but doubts lingered in his mind. When the festival came around, he invited his wife to have a drink of the special festival wine with him before they went out that evening.'

He could have just asked her, Binghe thought. Did he think of that?! If Shizun had asked me, calmly, I think I would have told him. Still… she could have told him too; it's not only his responsibility to speak of such things. Oh dear… she's probably going to be revealed as a demon, maybe even hurt by the wine.

Is Shizun trying to tell me that I should have told him about myself earlier? He knew, somehow he knew already. But maybe he couldn't say it. Maybe he was waiting for me to admit it! Luo Binghe thought guiltily. With all those stories, was he trying to encourage me to speak up? Could we have changed things for the better if I had?

'The instant the first mouthful of wine touched his wife's lips, Bai Suzhen claimed she felt sick and ran for the bedroom. Quickly grabbing some purification medicine, Xu Xiyan hurried to check on her, but instead of his beautiful wife there was only a huge white demonic snake with a blood-red forked tongue coiled up on the bed. Xu Xiyan collapsed and died instantly from terror.'

"No!" Binghe moaned… but very quietly. For even amidst his disappointment with the story he didn't want to attract the attention of the circling local monsters and dared not be too loud.

Well, I'm definitely Bai Suzhen. But… Shizun… Xu Xiyan… he can't be dead?! Their story has barely begun!

'When Bai Suzhen recovered her senses and transformed back to human form, she was heartbroken, for she loved her husband dearly and had taken on human form purely for the joy of being with him, wanting to raise his fortunes and share his life. She tried every talisman and herbal remedy she knew to revive him, but to no avail. Yet she refused to succumb to despair, for even death can be cured if one is determined and knowledgeable enough.'

Binghe straightened up from his bowed posture, beaming. That's it! He's hinting again about a cure for the incurable: Without-A-Cure!

'Packing a qiankun pouch with supplies, Bai Suzhen set out to the south in search of a legendary herb that could grant longevity, and even restore the dead to life. She flew on a cloud to the forbidden peaks of the Kun Lun Mountains, in search of the Old Man of the South.'

Binghe noted the not-so-subtle reference to a packed qiankun pouch, but his main focus for this section was directed elsewhere.

Mountain peaks to the south. Binghe pressed the directions into his mind. If the Endless Abyss had a mountain range, he would find it and scour it for rare herbs and any other potent poison-curing remedies he could find!

Please Shizun, if it is real, describe the herb for me! This one swears to find it for you!

'When she reached the mountains she travelled on foot, facing dangers and passing through many gateways, and walked across a silver bridge to where the Old Man's part-animal disciples guarded the herb. Disguising herself as a monk, the cunning Bai Suzhen told the disciples that their master was invited to a great feast in his honour thrown by the gods themselves. While the deer and crane disciples excitedly hurried away to relay the message, Bai Suzhen plucked some leaves from the sacred herb and ran away as fast as she could.'

Binghe sighed. He'd been hoping for a description of the herb, but 'it has leaves' wasn't very helpful. Perhaps the location was enough of a hint? Or perhaps the cure for Without-A-Cure wasn't a herb at all, and thus his Shizun carefully and deliberately hadn't described it. He still remembered his Shizun's anxiety about describing Guanyin's cure for her father. Whatever it was, it was something forbidden, he thought. Something sacred or dangerous.

Mountains in the clouds, dangers, gateways, a silver bridge, and demonic animal guards, Binghe thought, pressing the key details into his memory just in case.

'Her ruse didn't work for long, and Deer Boy and White Crane Boy quickly turned around to pursue her. She knocked out Deer Boy with a ball of demonic qi, but White Crane Boy was gaining fast. Bai Suzhen put the leaves under her tongue for safekeeping and transformed into her white snake form, ready to fight. The crane disciple transformed into an animal too and the two battled. The white crane got the best of her, clamping his beak around her neck just as the Old Man of the South appeared.'

She will still win, Binghe reassured himself. She has to save her love! Part of him worried, however, that this might be another sad story like that of the Little Fish-Demon.

'The Old Man asked her, "Why did you steal my sacred herb? You are an immortal already and have no need of it."

'She answered him swiftly, pleading for understanding. "It is not for myself, but for my poor departed husband, whom I love dearly and who loves me. For he knew me and cared for me even before he was born into this life! A thousand years ago in one of Xu Xiyan's previous reincarnations when I was just a lowly tiny snake with no cultivation to speak of, when he bore another name and another face, he saved me from being killed with a rock by a hungry beggar. I vowed then to repay his kindness a hundred-fold, and I shall not fail him now. Even if I must face a thousand dangers, even if he casts me aside and wants nothing to do with me after I save him, knowing now that I am a demon, still I shall not give up." Touched by her self-sacrifice and love, the Old Man let her go with the sacred leaves.'

"Shizun," Binghe murmured, running his fingers gently over the words on the parchment scroll. "I know how much you value a faithful, loyal spouse. And I too shall repay your every kindness a hundred-fold! Do you think, Shizun, that we are a fated pair too? Did you know me in another life? Do your insight and your silence stem not from a dangerous demonic deal but are instead a gift and a duty bestowed by the will of heaven?"

'Returning to the mortal realm on her cloud, Bai Suzhen retook her human form and hurried home, where she immediately gave her husband the sacred herb.'

Binghe wondered if it was still carried in her mouth. Did she kiss her husband back to life? If only curing Shizun was that simple! He was certainly willing to try it… just in case.

Another story with returning from another realm. Whether it was a heavenly or demonic realm is unclear in this story, but that she returned to the mortal realm is telling in this sentence, Binghe observed.

'Xu Xiyan revived quickly, and to Bai Suzhen's delight the look of frozen terror on his cold, still face turned to a warm smile. "Human or demon, I shall love you always," he vowed. The two embraced, weeping and laughing in joy and relief at being reunited once more.'

Binghe sniffled quietly as tears ran down his face. Shizun, we will be reunited one day! I too shall escape back to the mortal realm, with a cure for you! Somehow… somewhere in the mountains to the south, perhaps. Uh… hopefully I can figure out which way is south.

There was only a tiny bit of writing left on the parchment.

'Some say they then lived happily ever after, and that Bai Suzhen bore a son who became a fine scholar. Other versions of the tale tell of how they were separated, of Xu Xiyan's suffering and imprisonment and Bai Suzhen's rage that caused her to murder many people and drown a whole temple in her quest to free her husband and take vengeance on the despicable monk Fahai. Binghe, I prefer the gentler ending to this story, without vengeance or imprisonment or suffering, and I hope you like that ending too.'

"I do, Shizun. I like it much more," Binghe whispered.

'"And Scheherazade perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say…" I shall tell you another story the next time I see you, my Emperor, should my life be spared for just one more night. The End.'

With tears still tracing wet streaks on his dirty and bloodstained face, Binghe vowed, "I shall give you another night, and another, and every night there is. I shall embrace my nature as a demon – but a kind-hearted and honourable one whose word is his bond and whose fidelity will never be in doubt – and I shall find you the remedy for Without-A-Cure, and if you need it, for the muteness curse that plagues you even as it grants you knowledge! When I escape this realm and return to you, I shall offer you both my forgiveness and my heart, for I will forever be a loyal husband to you, my cherished Empress, just as you wish me to be."

Despite the binding on his Shizun's tongue, his teacher's lessons were all crystal clear.

A/N: If you're wondering what SQQ was looking so angry about as Binghe revived, it's that he was arguing with the System that had recently informed him that it was increasing the cost of avoiding throwing Binghe into the Endless Abyss to 20,000 points. He was just a whisker away from the necessary 10K points after years of determined point farming, and it moved the goal posts at the last minute!