#look forward to reading 54 pgs in this massive update

[phoenixtakaramono]

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 their 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 “Bing gē” from the released Extra short story. It was also too bad that Shen Yuan, in his mortal form, resembled Shen Qingqiu by a good thirty-to-forty percent.)

This was the second time they’d held hands. Fingers threaded together, palms touching. A significant amount of information could be communicated in the simple act of taking someone’s hand—the shape and texture of it, the roughness or softness of the life they’d led, and the strength or fragility of their grip. Luo Binghe would remember the feeling of that pale hand gripping his tightly for the rest of his life.

The mist billowed under Luo Binghe the moment he was allowed entry into the dream realm of the divine. Instantly, he was besieged with the feeling of falling into a frozen lake. The cold was a shock through his body, forcing his hand to convulsively clamp down as he stumbled.

Foolish, Luo Binghe berated himself. To have been finally welcomed inside the dream realm of a celestial being meant this version of his shizun had thought highly of Luo Binghe and his constitution. Yet instead of a composed and dignified air, Luo Binghe had just shown his weak side.

Shen Yuan halted midstride. Concern was written upon those white brows upon seeing his reaction.

It was, nonetheless, an opportunity. Luo Binghe forced an amiable smile as he pretended to be oblivious, masking any sign of his discomfort as he leaned against Shen Yuan’s weight. The sensation of pins-and-needles assailing him wasn’t something he couldn’t tolerate, but it was unpleasant. Except for their one point of contact, no part had been spared. His gaze lingered on the long scholarly fingers wrapped trustingly around his, before sweeping a glance over their new surroundings.

He felt like he’d stepped into a world composed of silk screens. Ahead, the fine mist passing through the painted scenery shrouded the outline of the tall mountain range and forest. Even the walls of the buildings were composed of firm brushstrokes and soft ink wash.

Since Luo Binghe had difficulty walking, Shen Yuan had to support him. Both men, mutually depending on each other, took slow steps forward.

Droplets of water splashed quietly from their strides as Shen Yuan guided him in the direction of whatever he’d wanted Luo Binghe to see. Like black ink that had been dipped into clear water, the transparent surface was beginning to darken with each tread that Luo Binghe took.

He stared down at his feet. The sight of the ink and water swirling into one another as though they were made to be together gave rise to the tide of emotions which had been circulating within his mind.

In the newly fallen darkness, he could sense his companion had fallen into another state of deep contemplation. As the two men disembarked in companionable silence, Luo Binghe took a long, measuring look at the landscape—at the secrets hiding within the fog, behind the translucent silks.

The atmosphere was incomparably resplendent and harmonious, yet it painted an undeniable fact about his companion. Knowledge could be gleaned of how this revered existence perceived the outside world. Life was a flow of changes—transient and ephemeral. Being in this realm didn’t feel real, with the indifference of an observer who was transcendent and so far removed from the mortal scale.

They were truly opposites—not only in their physical appearance and status, but also in how their dream realms manifested.  

“…You’ve always had an unruly habit to roam and draw unnecessary attention to yourself!” An insidious and vicious whisper brushed against Luo Binghe’s mind like a wisp of smoke. “ It’s impressive you can even move so well inside this barrier. To think you’d chase him here on impulse!”

Hearing the litany of grievances, Luo Binghe hid the blade that was his smile. Unlike himself, he had no doubt that his senior might have been exorcised had he not taken refuge in Luo Binghe.

Because however convincingly Meng Mo conveyed his displeasure, his voice was nonetheless weakened by the barrier. He was merely being crotchety to maintain appearances.

Shen Yuan had made it clear that his invitation into his dream was extended to Luo Binghe only. With that one remark addressing the senior dream demon, and by performing the gesture of taking his hand, it couldn’t have been even more obvious what he’d wanted.

Earlier, Luo Binghe had gambled that on this fateful evening that the celestial fortuneteller would have no choice but to attend to his growing fatigue. His guard would be lowered and that was when the opportunity would present itself.

The practice of invading and manipulating a person’s dreams was nothing new. With his secret tutelage cultivating on the demonic path, beginning when he’d been a mere Cang Qiong Mountain sect disciple, he had learned to infiltrate many minds. Several had been his lovers—the first being his shījiě, accidental as it had been pulling his martial sister along with him—although the treatment his women received was far more considerate than the cruel methods he inflicted upon all those who opposed him.

He had seen the duplicity of people’s hearts and reproduced illusions of varying natures. He’d learned how to lure others when they were at their most defenseless and be able to find their worst fears and memories to inflict the maximum psychological torment. With his enemies who were impervious to physical torture, few could claim immunity upon being confronted with their own inner demons. And with his lovers, he could skim their memory fragments and indulge any spring dreams either of them had fantasized about, causing romantic feelings to overflow.

Because unlike the waking world, the dream realm was honest.

The capability to doubt was stripped away. Memories could be spied on. Falsehoods were exposed. And no secrets could be kept from him. Oftentimes one’s impulses could not be held back within the dream realm.

It was a glimpse into one’s truest state.

Meng Mo’s withered voice interrupted his thoughts.

“The ways of those of the Heavenly Realm are mysterious—but they are proud and have always held contempt for our kind. I know you are captivated by him, but be more prudent in choosing your words around him. Don’t be muddled in the head just because you believe he can replace the late Qing Jing Peak Lord….” Ridicule had crept into Meng Mo’s tone. “His looks aren’t bad but to have aspirations of eating the tofu of someone who bears the farseeing, discerning eyes of the Heavens…. Your ambition is bold, as is your guts. This elder doesn’t know whether to be impressed or scold you for your shamelessness.”

Although his lips had thinned into a white line, Luo Binghe remained silent.

Water shaped its course according to the nature of the ground over which it flowed. Tonight, many of his initial plans had been waylaid. Although he couldn’t have predicted its trajectory, he wasn’t discontent with the final outcome. He’d gained information that would be invaluable to him—and he’d finally found his shizun.

There had been a quiescent anticipation in the night as Luo Binghe waited like a spider spinning its web, searching and reaching for the only mind of this residence who was of interest to him, until he’d finally sensed the faintest reverberation of the otherworldly and ephemeral—a presence that could only belong to him.  

And he’d pulled.

As someone who used to humbly occupy the Mortal Realm, never in his imagination did Luo Binghe expect he could claim success to the achievement of accessing the dream realm of divinity.

The rush of triumph had been dampened once, upon seeking Shen Yuan, Luo Binghe encountered a Qi-condensed barrier—a mental defense meant to repel demonic influences. Impenetrable even against the combined efforts of himself and his senior who had centuries worth of infiltration experience, no matter how much he’d concentrated—redirecting the violent and rough flow of his Qi into something more finessed—he was unable to cross the boundary.

Luo Binghe had been stuck at an impasse. Breaching the barrier would require a much greater display of force, inflicting irreparable mental harm onto the dreamer.

He’d realized the barrier had to stay.

The passage of time was immeasurable in the world of dreams, but with every moment that had passed without the precious person inside revealing himself, the fear had mounted. Perhaps Shen Yuan had predicted such an incident would occur and had taken precautionary measures.

In hindsight, his action had indeed been too rash.

It was inevitable that they would be going their separate ways in the coming morning. Moreover, the last deep impression he’d leave behind would cast Luo Binghe in an extremely bad light, with Shen Yuan withdrawing back into seclusion and harboring a grudge for being taken advantage of. The opportunity would have slipped through Luo Binghe’s fingers like granules of sand.

All would be lost. Faced with the possibility of being abandoned, Luo Binghe had been inconsolable. The tension in the air around him had been so thick, it’d presented an oppressive miasma in his own dream realm.

The giant boulder which weighed down his heart vanished when, with the keen senses of a cultivator, his five senses had detected a ripple in the fog.

From faraway, he’d been spellbound. He’d seen a silhouette resembling that from legend, with the unattainable white moon that was Shen Yuan descending down from the stars which glistened like shards in the night.

Despite the offense, he had chosen to come to Luo Binghe from his own volition.

Another realization had struck Luo Binghe. Seeing the regal figure out of his immaculate finery—dressed down to his inner clothing and with his moonlit hair undone, without a headpiece in sight—was a rare sight beyond measure. Aside from the servants who tended to their master, no one else must have seen him in such a compromising state.

It’d also been fascinating observing how someone of the Nine Heavens would interact within his world; Shen Yuan had assimilated quickly. Wandering aimlessly in an unfamiliar environment, his appearance reminded Luo Binghe of the purest white snow, high above and unreachable, the likes of which remained untarnished. Such bearing was similar to what Luo Binghe expected for somebody of high status. Like a fairy unaffected by mortal matters, Shen Yuan’s manner had been aloof and vague. The only difference was that his attitude toward Luo Binghe had not been uncaring. Courtesy had been given, even knowing who he was—and what he’d done, and would be capable of doing.

There was no one who could deny Shen Yuan’s appearance was picturesque. When he was smiling, it was as moving as spring flowers and the autumn moon. When he was lost in thought, he projected an air of melancholy—solemn and ambiguous, like the subject of a painting one could only admire from a distance.

“…Xiōng dì.” A cultured and steady voice trickled into Luo Binghe’s awareness, pulling him from his deep reflection.

An invigorating energy suddenly blanketed him. All discomfort fled, replaced with the refreshing feeling of a spring brook engulfing him. Shen Yuan had fallen a step back so that they were now shoulder to shoulder.

Shen Yuan’s gaze was appraising as his breaths feathered the fur. “I had not expected you being here would be strenuous on you. Please take care of your body.” A hand went up to clasp him on the shoulder. “Endure the skinship. I think, for now, it’s better to stay close to me until you can stand on your own. You’ll be safer by my side.”

Luo Binghe inhaled sharply.

“Hoh. How considerate!” Meng Mo’s dryness filtered into his thoughts. “He treats you very well. Such goodwill. He certainly has a good heart.”

Stay out of this, Luo Binghe rebuked. You are not invited to take part in this conversation. Scram!

Replying in the affirmative though, he ducked his head. The hidden meaning of Shen Yuan’s words had not been lost on him. He simply hadn’t expected how protective Shen Yuan was of him.

In this lifetime, Luo Binghe would like to think he could recognize his shizun even if he turned into ashes—or took on a different appearance. Even the slow-witted were able to see that Shen Yuan was of different temperament, reminding Luo Binghe of the other “Shen Qingqiu” of the mirror world. This fortuneteller had a sincere and utterly honest personality, thoughtful and broadminded. Even when blood was shed, he didn’t condemn Luo Binghe.

This night was the first time they’d met, but it was undeniable that there was a flow to their conversations—as though they were not strangers but were, instead, dear friends reuniting. It was as if someone had seen the unfulfilled desires of his heart and had crafted him a companion to be compatible. Being with Shen Yuan felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Embracing him had felt natural.

Although he was a man, Shen Yuan had fit so perfectly in his arms. The firmness and strength of his body. Warm and solid. Alive and real. It hadn’t been the same as hugging a soft feminine figure but even now, Luo Binghe could recall how it’d felt folding him into his arms, at the simple pleasure of sharing body heat. Of inhaling his clean scent.

Being that close to him, the intimacy of such an act, had been so strangely powerful the connection between them had felt tangible.

Here was somebody meant to be unattainable and unreachable, whom mere mortals never would’ve had the fortune to meet unless they’d managed to ascend to the highest realm. Knowing that he was supposed to keep all divinity at a respectable distance made his awareness of what he was doing seem all the more enchanting.

There was no such thing as a string of coincidences. Luo Binghe held no illusion of what this really was; a second chance was being offered to him. Since they have finally encountered, it must have meant they were fated. Since fated, one must live up to the fate that the Heavens have bestowed.

(Cont.)

The rest can be read on AO3!