littleapplethedonkey
It had been years since Shen Qingqiu-helpless in Luo Binghe's hands-was dragged to Huan Hua Palace and sentenced to death. His body had been torn apart piece by piece.
Yet his spirit stayed sharp and vicious, untamed like a wounded beast that still bit back.
"Shen Qingqiu," Luo Binghe purrs, voice smooth, "I returned your limbs, won't you grace your disciple with one glance? I wait for your honored gaze." He laughs softly.
Of course, it's mockery. Luo Binghe would never be gentle with the man he hates-the same man who beat him, made him sleep in a woodshed, even tried to kill him. Hurting Shen Qingqiu, hearing his screams, was its own kind of justice.
But that other world, and the softer Shizun he found there-had twisted something inside him.
Restoring Shen Qingqiu's body was only a test. To see if this bitter, cruel Shen Jiu could ever resemble the one who once showed him kindness.
He knew such peace would never come. Luo Binghe had likely returned those limbs only to tear them off anew.