What if Shen Yuan, instead of being trasmigrated into Shen Qingqiu, was reborn into an infant much earlier in the timeline of PIDW?
In the spring of the same year as Shen Jiu is born, Shen Yuan wakes up as the infant son of an Army General.
He hates it. Infants have no dignity, and new layers of Shen Yuan's already thin face shave off with every diaper change and feeding. So! To stave off the growing cracks in his mental state, he starts focusing on the world around him.
As an infant, he figures he must be in some hacks half-assed historical fantasy or something. At three years of age, he decides that, more likely, it's some sort of Wuxia-Xianxia mix with an emphasis on...well, he's not entirely sure, but there's a lot of hidden politics his military family has to deal with, so. Maybe it's something like Game of Thrones?
It isn't until he’s started being taught military strategy and how to read that he starts seeing familiar names. After all, what are the chances of all four Cultivation Clans of PIDW being named in one book?
Yeah, no. Shen Yuan loses his shit.
Some time later (much, much later), Shen Yuan has the wherewithal to start scouting around. The good news is, he's several years away from the start of PIDW's plot, and even more before he would have to worrying about the Realms Merger Luo Binghe would wrought upon them all.
The bad news is that he may not even have to worry about any of that; because while the land Shen Yuan's family currently lives on is at peace, it's tentative at best, and Shen Yuan is next in line to be General of the Nation's army.
Many years later, Luo Binghe is ten years old, slowly traveling from town to town on his way to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, when he meets what he would later realize is the love of his life.
Walking a well-used path between towns, his bad luck had caught up with him when a young master in a carriage took exception to the sight of him and, as young masters always did, decided to harass and bully the poor defenseless child in their sight line. Lou Binghe was just starting to regret ever being born when he hears the sounds of hoof beats catching up to their position.
"Make way!" A stern voice shouts. "Make way for the Army!"
The young master's party tries, but their master is prideful and a fool, and thus refuses. It turns out the young master is of some higher rank (with nothing better to do than cause trouble) and so the moment he is told to move, he digs his feet in. A confrontation starts.
Binghe tries to subtly scuttle away, but he's grabbed before he can go far and thrown to the ground between the two parties- used as a scapegoat for why the young master is being so obstinate. He knows- from years of watching servants take the fall- that the next few minutes are likely to hurt real bad.
But then the clouds part, and under a ray of gentle light, a voice calls out amongst the army men. Binghe dares glance up, just in time to see the rugged men part for another man on horseback.
He's different from the others. Oh, he had the build, the armor, and his hair was tied up tight in a bun, making him seemingly indistinguishable from the others, but there was something there that called all eyes to him. A silent assurance, or maybe just a quiet gravity.
Binghe feels himself fill with cautious awe.
"Why have we stopped? What is the issue?"
"Apparently this child is blocking the road." The leading soldier informed.
"That's right, this little runt refused to move for his superiors! The Master will not be moving until some proper respect is beaten into him!"
The man on horseback turns to him then. All awe dies. Binghe's heart sinks. There is a cold analysis in that gaze, and-
No. No, wait. Even as Binghe's heart fell...did those eyes gain a hint of warmth?
"I see." The man speaks. "So a single lost child is enough to ruffle the young master's feathers like this? How great your house must have fallen, that it cannot ignore a single slight from an orphaned boy."
The young master seethes, "You-!"
The man turns to the leading soldiers, cutting him off with a swift order- "Move Them," -then in a smooth, well-practiced move, swings off his horse and lands in the dirt with a gentle, heavy thud.
Binghe watches him with eyes wide- and getting wider as he approaches Binghe's kneeling self and drops to bended knee right in front of him.
"You've found some trouble, child."
Ah! A scolding! Binghe's cheeks flush with shame, his wide stare dropping to his hands. "This lowly one is sorry! This lowly one did not mean to cause trouble for you-"
"Stop. I'm not criticizing you." A warm hand lands on his head, and Binghe nearly gasps aloud. "What's your name? Where are you going?" A small pause. "You've been injured; let me bandage that for you."
For the next little while, Binghe basks in the care of a total stranger. He tells his name, his life story, and for the first time since his mother's death, feels as if he is really and truly being seen.
"Cang Qiong, huh?" The man, plain and indistinguishable from any other soldier at first appearance- oh, but Binghe will never forget his face now. He stares at the man's features as long as he dares, determined to memorize every line and scar and out of place strand of hair. "I can't take you all the way there, but if you don't mind sharing a horse and promise to hide if trouble comes knocking, I see no reason we can't take you a town close by."
Forget memories, he needs to know this man's name now!!
He shares a horse with the man (Shen Yuan!). Others offer, but for the second time in Binghe's life, he dares to hide behind someone's legs and clings to the man's pants. (It was entirely impulse, and he scolded himself for it viciously, but Shen Yuan- proving Binghe's mother right that there are kind people in the world still- laughed. Laughed!)
Binghe had never ridden a horse before, but Shen Yuan was so kind. He taught him how to get on, helped him up the entire way, guided him on the best way to sit and hold the resigns; and when Shen Yuan climbed up himself, Binghe didn't feel nervous about their closeness at all.
In fact, an hour into the ride, Binghe fell into a light doze. He couldn't help it. Shen Yuan was warm and sturdy, and Binghe was small and tired. It was bound to happen, and he only woke up when new sounds reached his ears.
When camp was made, Shen Yuan shared his food with him. When it was time to sleep, he didn't mind that Binghe clung to his side and refused to go anywhere else. When Binghe got scared to relieve himself in the forest at night, Shen Yuan would sigh, pat his head, and say "Alright, I'll go with you. But only the once, got it?" And Binghe would happily agree; but by that point they both knew if Binghe asked, Shen Yuan would indulge him. A week of this, and even the other soldiers would tease them for becoming "father and child on the way to war."
Traveling through towns was the best, though. Shen Yuan told the best stories, and when he saw things in the markets or food in the stalls, he would point at them and tell Binghe stories of "that time I ripped some drunk a new one for messing with a girl," and "when I was younger I accidentally broke my mother's prized necklace and spent the next month trying to hide it from her."
They couldn't really stop in town, but at one point Shen Yuan decided to wait until they'd made camp and eaten before taking Binghe on the speediest ride back into town of his life- and all to get him a bath and change of clothes.
A bath! A warm, clean bath! And he wasn't weird about it at all, like some of the street kids told him adults could be! He even bought Binghe's new clothes with his own personal coin! (It wasn't new, and the colors were a little faded, but it was clean and sturdy and bought just a little bigger than Binghe's size- but most importantly, it was His! His, and a gift from the man who was quickly becoming his favorite person!)
All in all, Binghe- oh, Binghe didn't want to leave Shen Yuan at all!
And then he overheard it.
It was a town close to Binghe's last shared destination with Shen Yuan. The townsfolk were quieter there, and when they saw the soldiers, they all murmured and stared as they passed, quiet and solemn. Like the wake of a funeral.
Binghe tentatively called up to Shen Yuan, unnerved.
"Hm?" He followed Binghe's eyes, sighed, and pat his head. "Don't worry, Binghe. They're just worried."
Later in camp, Binghe asked more about it; and that's when he learned what an Army was. Really learned.
The firelight made odd shadows on Shen Yuan's face, but for a second Binghe thought he saw somberness settle there.
"Why?" Binghe asked- and he knew he shouldn't, but a new fear had grown in him and the image of Shen Yuan cold and still on a battlefield, injured so bad he died, all alone without Binghe there to help- oh, it made his little heart tremble and made his eyes burn with tears.
"Orders from our dearest Emperor," another soldier chimed in, poking their fire with a stick. Shen Yuan called his name in a scolding tone, but another soldier cut in just as quickly.
"You see, the mortal realm's Emperor decided fighting with our neighbors was better than brokering peace."
Shen Yuan tried to scold him too, but Binghe beat him to it with another "Why?"
"Enough. Binghe does not need to hear-"
Another man- one that spoke to Shen Yuan frequently with information and questions- stepped in then. "Captain, he of all people needs to hear. You'll be parting soon, doesn't he have the right to know why you might not meet again?"
And Binghe learned. He learned that the current Emperor of the mortal realm was recently instated. That he was young and tyrannical and bore no insult, no matter if insult was meant or had ever existed in the first place. Executions were plentiful, relations with old neighboring allies were failing, negotiations with opposing neighbors were falling apart, and in fact the only person here in this camp that had come out of any sort of willingness was Shen Yuan, as the son of a General. The others had been enlisted very much against their will with little expectation to make it out alive, let alone gain anything from their misery.
Why? Because the Emperor had perceived insult from an envoy negotiating peace, had them locked up, and when the country they came from refused to apologize for some imagined slight, the Emperor had lost it and had the envoy executed before the whole capital.
Binghe had never hated someone before, but now, knowing that it would be on this man's orders that his Shen Yuan could die...
The soldiers laughed at him. It wasn't mean-spirited, just sad and knowing, and Binghe understood even if he didn't like it. What would a ten year old do on the battlefield? Die, that's what.
Shen Yuan pulled him over into his arms before Binghe could really start crying, sitting him in his lap and rocking him side to side.
"It'll be alright. Even if I do die, I won't go."
"You won't?" Binghe hiccups into his chest. His small arms cling to Shen Yuan's sides, and Shen Yuan holds him almost exactly how his mama used to.
"Of course not. Binghe wants me to stay, so how could I die?"
There's a smattering of laughs behind him, and Binghe pouts. "Don't joke!"
"Not joking, not joking," Shen Yuan soothes with lightness in his voice- definitely laughing then! "I'm very serious. The most serious. Binghe doesn't want me to go, so even if I die, I'll stay and wait for Binghe to find me; how does that sound?'
Binghe sniffles, "Sounds good."
"Good. Then it's a deal: as long as Binghe wants me, I won't move on to the next life. I'll wait right where I fell, I promise."
Binghe would prefer a promise to live, but even he knew that wasn't one a person could keep. Atleast this way, even if Shen Yuan wasn't alive, Binghe could still keep him. Maybe...maybe he could even find a way to bring him back? If cultivation magic was real and demons walked amongst mortals, then why not bringing back the dead?
Their parting isn't happy in that final town. Everyone knew Binghe had to go. Binghe knew he had to go. Yet, when Binghe looked up at Shen Yuan, he could see the soldier struggling with himself. His hold on Binghe's hand was firm, and it tightened when Binghe adjusted his hand inside it before finally letting go.
Just like the first time they met, Shen Yuan moves to kneel before him.
"You'll be safe? Stay out of trouble? Cang Qiong isn't far; if you're scared, I can take you the rest of the way..."
Binghe shakes his head. "You can't. The Emperor won't like it."
Shen Yuan purses his lips. Binghe likes to think he knows the man very well now, and so he swears he can almost hear Shen Yuan say "Damn the Emperor!" in his mind. It makes him smile.
The soldier moves on. "Food then? Water? Do you have enough? Should I give you coin for an Inn? A bath might be good if you want to make a good first impression on Cang Qiong."
"The boy will be fine, Captain. You've given him everything he'll need. If you give anymore, you'll end up giving him half our supplies and go broke."
Binghe and Yuan both pout at the man: Binghe, for interrupting their goodbye, and Shen Yuan for denying his need to care for (spoil) Binghe with his Logic. Still, the logic was sound. Binghe had to convince Shen Yuan not to give him his entire coin pouch as a parting gift.
(Binghe loves this man. He's too young to know what kind of love it is at the moment, but when he's fifteen and discovering the existence of romance for the first time, he'll think back on these long weeks with Shen Yuan and Know.)
It takes awhile for Shen Yuan to drag himself away. Binghe doesn't even try to put distance between them, watching Shen Yuan mount his horse like- like a man off to war.
The procession leaves slowly, each soldier yelling out their own farwell as they pass. Binghe waves to them as they call, but his eyes cling to Shen Yuan, not wanting to miss a second.
Shen Yuan glances back frequently over his shoulder. Their eyes meet more than once, and each time Binghe feels a jolt in his heart. Will Shen Yuan turn around? Will he take him with him after all?
He never does. Eventually the soldiers take a turn on the path and disappear behind the trees.
Alone, Binghe makes his way to Cang Qiong Mountain.
There's a phrase he hears on Qing Jing that doesn't quite process until he’s knee deep in the demon realm, amassing power at an alarming rate: "A General must follow an Emperor."
Now, sitting on a throne under the roof of a Palance that belongs solely to him, he thinks, "If Shen Yuan must swear fealty, let it be to someone who will never send him to his death pointlessly- or send him to his death at all."
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