Archive of Our Own ^beta

"No way you added marijuana into this world, Airplane!" Shen Yuan admonished, crossing his arms like a disappointed parent.

"Oh, come on. You know that's exactly something I would do!" Shang Qinghua snickered, reveling in the view of the field before them.

Shen Yuan sighed, elegantly placing his hand on his forehead in a dramatic facepalm.

You see, every three months this Cumplane duo would go on a trip together to explore the PIDW world. Despite Shen Yuan's constant criticism of Airplane's trashy stallion novel, he had to admit the world-building was fantastic. Exploring the strange and wonderful attractions was one of his favorite parts of transmigrating here.

Plus, having the literal god as a tour guide was pretty damn cool.

Shang Qinghua had been hyping up this trip for weeks, insisting on keeping the location a surprise. Shen Yuan was skeptical at first, but he eventually got won over and became excited for the adventure. He even gave Airplane the benefit of the doubt when he insisted they hike on foot instead of flying on their swords, claiming it was part of the "rewarding experience."

But then, after two hours of trekking, they finally arrived…

At a field of cannabis!

...

Never had Shen Yuan's smile turned into a frown so quickly.

There wasn't even anything magical about it; no fantasy flair whatsoever.

It. was. just. straight! up! weed!

"You're wasting our precious vacation days on this?" Shen Yuan huffed. They could’ve gone to the Begonia Gardens, the Cloud Lotus Sea, or even the legendary Azure Flames Waterfall! But noOOooo—they were here. At a giant weed field.

"It’s only a waste if you don’t try it!" Shang Qinghua tut-tutted, striding up to the front of the field and squatting down. He patted the ground beside him. "C'mere! Get comfy."

Shen Yuan begrudgingly sauntered over and crouched beside him. "Now what?" he asked, plucking a leaf. The smell hit him immediately—pungent and crude, with a sharp, skunky undertone that made his nose twitch.

"Now, we harvest!" Shang Qinghua grinned, producing a small sack from his sleeve. "Normally, weed has to go through all this drying and curing to really hit the spot, but this stuff is special. It’s ready to roll straight off the stem—no middleman needed!" He held up a cluster of buds. "Just grind it, roll it, and... well, light up."

Shen Yuan stared at him and raised an eyebrow. "You only really think things through for stuff like this, huh? Shitty author."

Shang Qinghua winked in response. "Only the best for us, buddy."

***

The Cumplane duo tiptoed their way back to the Cang Qiong Mountain sect, small sacks of weed tucked securely under their robes.

Shang Qinghua's enthusiasm was infectious, and soon Shen Yuan also found himself grinning and stifling laughter over the mischief. There was something so deliciously wicked about it—two grown men, esteemed peak lords, sneaking around like kids up to no good.

They made their way to Qing Jing Peak, to Shen Yuan's bamboo house. This was the safest place to experiment, after all—if anything weird happened, they’d be in a controlled environment and could deal with it without being discovered.

As the evening settled, the two of them sat cross-legged on the polished floor, a makeshift setup of finely rolled papers and tiny piles of weed spread before them. Shen Yuan grimaced as he handled the delicate paper. Being a master of the four arts, he kept only the finest quality paper in his abode.

"Using these to get lit up…" Shen Yuan muttered, feeling a pang of guilt over the waste, though he couldn’t stop the smirk twitching at his mouth.

He lifted the makeshift joint to his lips, took an experimental pull, and immediately coughed, his face scrunching up as he choked on the smoke. "This is vile! Should I light some incense or—"

"Just wait a minute, give it a second." Shang Qinghua laughed, exhaling a practiced puff with a wide grin. "Trust me."

"Uh huh." Shen Yuan leaned back, thinking this was all so stupid, and now his house was gonna stink.

But then... Shen Yuan’s eyelids drooped slightly, his muscles relaxed, and suddenly, the smell didn’t seem so bad. In fact, it was earthy, almost warm. "Oh my god," he breathed, blinking at Shang Qinghua with wide eyes. "You’re… you’re actually right. This is good."

Shang Qinghua cackled, raising his joint in a tiny toast. "You should see the dumb face you’re making! Imagine if your disciples saw their oh-so-lofty shifu like this."

"Shut up." Shen Yuan took another drag, this time with confidence. "How are you such a pro at this, huh? Sus as hell!"

"I’m an artist," Shang Qinghua shrugged. "Most creatives are like this. You know, Cats was written in a room where all the writers were high!"

Shen Yuan squinted. "What the hell is Cats?"

"You don't know Cats?" Shang Qinghua's jaw dropped. "The Broadway hit? The controversial, shitty CGI movie?"

"Not ringing a bell."

"Wow, and I thought you were cultured." Shang Qinghua shook his head.

"Oh, please," Shen Yuan scoffed. "I've got more culture in my pinky than you've got in your whole body."

"Hmm really?" Shang Qinghua grinned. "Care to prove it? How about a jueju competition?"

Shen Yuan’s eyes lit up. "Oh, you’re on."

After a few minutes break to gather their thoughts, Shen Yuan began:

Airplane shoots for the sky but lands in the dirt,

Rat-like man, no guts to assert

Made yourself an ice King wet dream,

Only to end up like the hamster banana meme.

Shang Qinghua applauded, leaning in with a wicked grin. "Aha! So that's how you want to play?"

He made eye contact with Shen Yuan as he said:

Pretending to be a master of eloquent flare,

But really just a child groomer, full of hot air.

I see through you, clear as glass—

Like the wine bottle shoved up your ass.

Shen Yuan blanched. "Wait, how do you know about that?!" He lunged at Shang Qinghua, grabbing him by his robes. "Airplane!"

"Heh!" Shang Qinghua only shrugged, sticking his tongue out with a mischievous grin.

**

"Here me out," Shang Qinghua began.

"I'm listening."

"Would it really be that hard if we just… tried to build a computer?"

"Sure, no problem. Let's just head down to the village and pick up some RAM and a motherboard," Shen Yuan said, rolling his eyes.

"Ha-ha. But seriously, theoretically, there’s metalworking here, there’s magic… spiritual energy is basically electricity, right? We can amplify qi in spirit stones to make them act like silicon chips?"

"Hmm.. maybe you're onto something..."

**

"Do you... ever think about air conditioning? Like, really think about it?" Shen Yuan sighed dreamily.

"Dude, yes! All the time!" Shang Qinghua nodded emphatically. "It gets so damn hot up at my peak. And I can’t even order my disciples to fan me!"

"Think there's any chance we live long enough to make it back to modern times?"

"Maybe," Shang Qinghua said thoughtfully. Then he grinned. "But spending centuries with you? Yikes!" He laughed as Shen Yuan gave him a light punch on the shoulder.

**

After a few hours of joking around and playing games, they were finally getting ready to sleep.

"Airplane Bro!" Shen Yuan slurred, sprawled out on the bed beside Shang Qinghua, who didn’t respond. "Air! Plane! Bro!"

"What? You’re so loud!" Shang Qinghua groaned, covering his ears.

"Wait… am I speakiiiiing in your voice, or are you speaking in my vooooice?"

"I’m not sure," Shang Qinghua muttered, squinting. "Come closer so I can tell."

They leaned in, pressing their foreheads together, hands on the back of each other’s heads as if trying to focus.

"Airplane Bro, you’re my best frieeeend," Shen Yuan mumbled, his voice cracking slightly.

"And you’re my best friend!" Shang Qinghua sniffed, his eyes watering. "But don’t say stuff like that, Cucumber Bro! People only say that kind of shit when something bad’s about to happen!"

"Hahaha, it's okay. Binghe will protect us from anything," Shen Yuan said, flashing a bright smile.

Shang Qinghua rolled his eyes. "Only you, probably. I still can't believe you turned my son gay..."

They laughed, and then Shang Qinghua made a stupid smile. "Kiss your homies goodnight?"

Without hesitation, they each gave the other a quick peck on the forehead.

"We’re so cringe," Shen Yuan muttered, and they burst into laughter, giggling together until they both drifted off to sleep.

***

The next day, Luo Binghe and Mobei-Jun arrived at the bamboo house to check on their husbands. They’d seen the two of them yesterday, giggling over folded pieces of paper, but since it was still technically their vacation time, the demonic duo held back from interfering.

Luo Binghe’s eye twitched at the sight that greeted them.

Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua were still tangled up together in a strange cuddle, both blissfully asleep.

Instantly, Luo Binghe moved to pry Shang Qinghua away, gripping him by the collar and lifting him upright.

The movement stirred Shen Yuan, who blinked sleepily before a smile spread across his face. "Binghe!" he greeted cheerfully, only to pout when he noticed Luo Binghe holding up Shang Qinghua. His gaze then drifted to Mobei-Jun, and fragments of memories from the night before surfaced.

Something about Airplane having better English than him.

"U pretty, he ugly! U swan, he frog!" Shen Yuan drawled in English, gesturing dramatically between Mobei-jun and Shang Qinghua.

The shouting roused Shang Qinghua, who frowned at Shen Yuan's antics.

"What the f—! Abandon! Abandon him!" Shang Qinghua also yelled in English, clinging to Luo Binghe's boot, jabbing a finger in Shen Yuan's direction.

Luo Binghe and Mobei-Jun exchanged vinegar-eating glances. What on earth were their eccentric husbands saying this time?

Their brows furrowed as they surveyed the scene: a pile of weed lay strewn across the low table, with remnants of makeshift joints and crumpled paper discarded, evidence of the night’s chaotic revelry.

"Their decorum has completely disappeared," Mobei-Jun observed.

Luo Binghe sighed. "Whatever. At least Shizun had fun."

Despite the bickering, it was clear the trip had been a resounding success. Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua had thoroughly enjoyed themselves, even though it later ended with them arguing over how to fairly split the remaining weed.