The moment Bingge stepped back into his own realm, the sky felt smaller. Grayer. Quieter.

Gone was the warm laughter of that Shen Qingqiu—the one who smiled, who lectured with a touch of kindness, who touched his face without flinching.

He had seen what he was missing.

And now... He was going to take it.

Shen Jiu barely looked up from his tea when the hall doors slammed open.

"You’re back," he said flatly, voice rough from sleep and tea. “Did you cry and whimper to your little twin over there? Or did he finally put you out of your misery?”

Bingge said nothing at first. Just stood in the threshold like a shadow with eyes. His gaze traced every line of Shen Jiu’s face—familiar, cold, tired—and for the first time, it didn’t feel like looking at a mountain he needed to climb.

It felt like looking at something he already owned.

"I missed you, Shizun."

Shen Jiu blinked. “...What?”

In a flash, Bingge was in front of him, kneeling at his feet. A smile curved his lips, gentle—too gentle. His hands reached for Shen Jiu’s, warm and firm and terrifying.

"Did you eat today? Are you resting enough? You look pale."

Shen Jiu recoiled, hard. "What the hell are you playing at?"

“No games, Shizun,” Bingge murmured, eyes sparkling with something too intense to be affection. “You were just lonely, weren’t you? I understand now. I was too cruel before. But it’s alright. I can love you for the both of us.”

He pressed Shen Jiu’s hand to his cheek. "Even if you don't love me yet… I’ll make sure you do."