Chapter 28

This year’s Immortal Alliance Conference had been the bloodiest on record.

Of the thousand-odd disciples from various sects who had participated, only Zhaohua Temple—whose monks had dedicated themselves to maintaining the barrier—emerged unscathed. The hardest hit was Fantasia Palace, with nearly a hundred casualties. Qing Jing Peak of Cang Qiong Mountain suffered the lightest losses, with just over thirty injured.

The rest of the casualties were concentrated among the minor sects and independent cultivators—those with shallow cultivation and weaker techniques. They had formed the true killing field.

To have one’s name inscribed upon the Golden Leaderboard was normally a cause for celebration. Now, however, many of those shining names belonged to cultivators who had fallen in the Jue Di Valley. The most heartbreaking of all was the name at the very top: Luo Binghe, disciple of Qing Jing Peak, beloved pupil of Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu. His sword was broken, his life extinguished. How could it not pierce the heart?

And these numbers did not even account for the rescuers who had entered the valley after the disaster. Every sect had been severely weakened.

A copy of the Golden Leaderboard was delivered to Qing Jing Peak.

There, at the very top, the name “Luo Binghe” shone with blinding, golden prominence.

Ming Fan approached and bowed. “Shizun, ten thousand spirit stones have been delivered. How should they be stored?”

“Ten thousand?” Shen Qingqiu blinked. “Why would such a sum suddenly be sent to the peak?”

Ming Fan answered cautiously, “Does Shizun not remember? At the Conference… you wagered five thousand…”

Shen Qingqiu remembered. The bet he’d placed on Luo Binghe. Yue Qingyuan had said he’d cover the loss if Luo Binghe failed, but any winnings would be Shen Qingqiu’s.

Luo Binghe had indeed been spectacularly competitive. In the final half-hour, he had surged past Gongyi Xiao and Liu Mingyan to seize the top spot, doubling the stake.

Back then, Shen Qingqiu had only placed the bet for a bit of comfort, a small consolation prize. Now, faced with the actual winnings, he felt utterly adrift.

In the past, he would have handed such matters to Luo Binghe to manage—whether to store the stones or use them for something else, and how to go about it. He’d never had to spare it a thought. Now, Ming Fan was asking him for instructions.

“Just… put them away for now,” Shen Qingqiu said after a moment.

“…” Ming Fan wanted to ask where, exactly, but his master’s expression was too forbidding. He decided it was safest to store them wherever Luo Binghe used to and quickly withdrew.

For days, the disciples of Qing Jing Peak moved with hushed caution, tiptoeing around invisible tripwires, terrified of touching the raw nerve they all believed their master was nursing. They assumed his mood would lift with time. But after more than half a month, just as Shen Qingqiu seemed to be returning to normal, he was heard calling Luo Binghe’s name twice from within his bamboo hut, just before the evening meal.

Ning Yingying came charging in, nearly giving Shen Qingqiu a heart attack. “What are you doing, barging in like that? A young lady shouldn’t be so reckless.”

Her eyes were red-rimmed like a little rabbit’s. “Shizun! What… what would you like to eat? I’ll make it for you!”

Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat. “That won’t be necessary. Go out and play.”

Ning Yingying stomped her foot. “Shizun! Even without A-Luo, you… you still have the rest of us! Seeing you like this… so listless and lost… your disciples are worried sick!”

Listless and lost. Shen Qingqiu had never imagined such words being applied to him in his entire life.

At his level of Core Formation, eating was purely optional. He’d just had a sudden craving for sweets and had momentarily forgotten he’d personally kicked Luo Binghe into the Endless Abyss. How did that earn him the label “listless and lost”?!

He opened his mouth to protest, but seeing Ning Yingying on the verge of tears, he found himself hastily comforting her instead, swearing he’d just misspoken. Only then did she calm down.

After ushering her out, Shen Qingqhu let out a long sigh. It struck him that this girl—who in the original story had been nothing but a coquettish, trouble-making liability—had actually grown up quite a bit.

She was supposed to be part of Luo Binghe’s harem. Shouldn’t she be the one weeping and wailing? Yet here she was, trying to comfort her master.

Could this be counted as a small success in his teaching?

Anyway, this had to stop!

He was the one who had raised that little white sheep of a protagonist. How had it somehow reversed, making it seem like the protagonist had been keeping him? Moping around with the face of a bereaved widow after just a few days—who was he trying to scare?

Wait, no! Pei! Shen Qingqiu mentally slapped himself.

Who’s a widow?! Who’s lost a husband?! What kind of nonsense was that? He was really regressing, his mouth spewing nothing but trash. He deserved a beating!

Still… with Luo Binghe gone, he probably was feeling a little lonely and reluctant to let go.

Especially when he thought that in five years, when they met again, their former harmony (…) would be replaced by smiling faces hiding daggers, by veiled murderous intent.

Shen Qingqiu had taken the shattered remnants of Zheng Yang back to Qing Jing Peak. He’d haphazardly dug a pit behind his bamboo hut, erected a stone slab, and built a sword tomb. Others, seeing him stare at the empty monument, assumed he was mourning his beloved disciple and sighed over the tragic bond between master and pupil, the cruelty of fate. Only he knew that the sigh was for the boy buried within that tomb—the gentle, sun-bright youth who would never return.

What truly sent him reeling, buffeted by the winds of despair and weeping at the heavens, was a brutally inhumane system notification that arrived after several days of silence.

[Congratulations! User has successfully completed key quest: “Legend Begins: The Fall and Rebirth of Luo Binghe.” Reward: +10,000 Protagonist Satisfaction Points.]

Before Shen Qingqiu could even feel a spark of joy, another message followed.

[However, due to special circumstances, new value activated: Luo Binghe’s Heartbreak. Due to excessively high Heartbreak value, Protagonist Satisfaction Points have been reset to zero. Please continue your efforts!]

Reset to zero… reset to zero… reset to zero…

The two words echoed endlessly in Shen Qingqiu’s mind.

What the hell was this “Heartbreak” value?!

Didn’t I tell you not to activate random strange data sets?!

Screw it! Luo Binghe really is the favored son, getting his own dedicated heartbreak meter!

Thirty years of toil, wiped out in a single night. This villain was heartbroken, his sorrow as vast as the Pacific.

Since he was miserable, he naturally had to go and make someone else miserable too.

Thus, Shen Qingqiu sent Ming Fan running with an invitation, summoning Shang Qinghua to his bamboo hut.

Shang Qinghua set down a snow-glaze teacup and smiled. “Senior Brother Shen’s Qing Jing Peak is truly a place of serene elegance. Even a humble teacup is so exquisitely crafted. Such refinement puts this humble brother to shame.”

Qing Jing Peak and An Ding Peak had always kept to their own affairs. Shen Qingqiu, with his aloof demeanor, rarely invited guests. That he had sent a disciple with a formal invitation to An Ding Peak naturally put Shang Qinghua on guard. Still, you don’t strike a smiling face, so offering flattery first couldn’t hurt.

Shen Qingqiu dismissed the attending disciples, closed the door, and sighed. “Hearing you say that only makes me miss him more. Every plant, every tree in this humble dwelling, every cup and dish… was arranged by that disciple of mine.”

“…” Shang Qinghua sighed in sympathy. “Ah, Junior Nephew Luo was a true talent among the youth. Such a pity. Those demons inflicted heavy losses upon us, truly hateful. The whole world shares your grief, Senior Brother Shen. Please, take care.”

Shen Qingqiu said softly, “If Junior Brother Shang truly thought it a pity, this tragedy would never have occurred.”

Shang Qinghua froze.

A moment later, he smoothed his smile back into place without a trace of flaw. “What does Senior Brother mean by that? Are you blaming my An Ding Peak for inadequate supervision? If so, this junior brother offers his sincere apologies.”

Shen Qingqiu refilled his teacup. “Not inadequate. If anything, too thorough. You even managed to procure demonic creatures like Ghost-Face Spiders, Wraith-Willows, and Bone Eagles—beings that never actively cross into the human realm. How could I possibly blame you for being inadequate?”

Shang Qinghua shot to his feet, his face cycling through shades of pale, red, and ashen. “Peak Lord Shen! You go too far!”

Shen Qingqiu placed a hand on Shang Qinghua’s shoulder, his expression grave. “Why so agitated, Junior Brother? Let’s sit and talk. I’ll call your name. Do you dare answer?”

Shang Qinghua sneered and brushed the hand away. “Why wouldn’t I dare? I, Shang Qinghua, have a clear conscience. Do you think I fear your false accusations?”

Shen Qingqiu asked, “Xiang Tian Da Feiji?”

For a moment, it was as if a divine bolt of lightning had struck Shang Qinghua directly on the crown of his head, rendering him speechless.

After a long pause, he finally stammered, “You… how do you know that ID?”

Seeing his reaction, Shen Qingqiu felt as if he, too, had been charred by lightning.

He had only wanted to gauge Shang Qinghua’s reaction upon hearing the name to determine if he had read Proud Immortal Demon Way. But this… This looked like more than just having read it!

Three seconds later, Shen Qingqiu pounced.

“It’s you?! I followed that damn book of yours to the end, of course I know your ID! If you hadn’t accidentally let that ‘WTF’ slip when Mo Beijun showed up, I’d never have guessed where you crawled out from, you damn author!”

Back then, the moment Mo Beijun appeared, Shang Qinghua had unconsciously blurted out a “What the fuck!”

Shen Qingqiu hadn’t heard it clearly at the time and paid it no mind, but the more he thought about it afterward, the more suspicious he became.

As the mastermind’s (logistical support) lackey, Shang Qinghua, bound by the plot’s inexorable force, had failed to release the Black Moon Rhinoceros Python—a creature that should have had significant screen time. That was suspicious in itself. But if it was interpreted as a deliberate attempt to hinder the plot’s development, to sever the tragic root that would send Luo Binghe tumbling into the Endless Abyss, then it all made sense.

The two men stared at each other, both equally shell-shocked.

Finally, Shen Qingqiu spoke. “You left plot holes gaping! You abandoned your foreshadowing! You littered the story with landmines! Your prose was grade-school level! If you’re gonna write a harem novel, then write a proper harem novel! What’s with all the heart-wrenching, body-breaking torture?!”

Shang Qinghua slumped. "...I'm a victim too, okay? I was the author! If I wasn’t going to transmigrate as the protagonist, I should’ve at least gotten the System! Who knew sticking a fork in a socket would trigger a random character assignment and land me as a cannon fodder?"

Shen Qingqiu snorted. "Still better than me. When your spy identity gets exposed, Mo Beijun just finishes you off clean. At least it’s quick. Me? What did Luo Binghe personally carve me into again? Remember?"

"Hey, you only transmigrated a few years ago, right? Woke up already a Peak Lord! I came over as a baby. A dirt-poor childhood, years as a neglected outer disciple—you think you’ve suffered more than me?"

Their misery contest was a draw. In the end, they were both in the same sorry boat. Shang Qinghua sighed with feeling. "To actually meet a reader. Fate, pure fate. 'Finding kin in a foreign land'—one of life’s great joys. What was your Endpoint Literature site username? Might be an old acquaintance."

Shen Qingqiu said, "PeerlessCucumber."

Shang Qinghua thought for a moment. "Rings a bell. Weren’t you the one screaming especially loud in that 'Castrate the Villain' thread? Right when the original Shen Qingqiu was about to, uh, make a move on Ning Yingying..."

"..." Shen Qingqiu said, "I refuse to believe that’s the only thing you remember. Let’s not revisit the past."

He straightened, expression turning serious. "Enough small talk. The reason I called you here to lay things out today is that after the Immortal Alliance Conference, I suddenly thought of a method. It might solve a problem we both share."